Tag: Children of the Corn

Children of the Corn (1984)

CHILDREN OF THE CORN

CHILDREN OF THE CORN (1984) One star

CHILDREN OF THE CORN is yet another textbook example of a film that cannot be taken seriously although it would love to be considered a serious film. We know that ‘cause we read an opening title like STEPHEN KING’S CHILDREN OF THE CORN, bashing us over the head this film wants to be a major event in our lives rather than a borderline incoherent, rambling supernatural thriller with pseudo-religious hogwash and brutal thriller machinations as its main selling points.

I will be the first to admit my ambivalence toward Stephen King, as well as Tom Clancy, John Grisham, Laurel Hamilton, Dean Koontz, and every other author who seems to have built-in access to a guaranteed mass audience every single time they publish even their napkins. Kmart, Walmart, and your friendly local supermarket determine the ultimate literary value of a select few writers and the rest of us hacks wallow in anonymity and simmering jealousy.

Fortunately, and unfortunately, I am well-versed in Stephen King film adaptations, probably just as much as you are at home. For every successful adaptation, like STAND BY ME and THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION, there’s absolute doggerel like CUJO, MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE, and DREAMCATCHER that rate among the most torturous movie experiences. In fact, I’d rate DREAMCATCHER high up among my top five worst movie theater experiences. One day, I’ll have to sit down and concentrate on that list.

CHILDREN OF THE CORN rates as bad King film adaptation. The rabid cult following may disagree but they’re not writing this review.

First and foremost, this is another King adaptation with religious poppycock galore. I traditionally despise religious fanaticism in the movies ‘cause it’s used by filmmakers as a cheap exploitation tactic. I hated, hated, hated this approach in films like AMITYVILLE II: THE POSSESSION, CARRIE, and THE OMEN. Are we supposed to cheaply laugh at somebody’s faith ‘cause they’re overzealous suckers and we’re in on the know and the joke they’re suckers?

How are we supposed to react to the evil corn, the pontification, and the music recycled from THE OMEN every time our filmmakers — led by director Fritz Kiersch — want us to pay attention. I have what’s called “bad laughs” and lots of them over the running time of CHILDREN OF THE CORN.

There’s a gruesome opening scene: The kids of Gatlin, Nebraska (introductory title: “GATLIN, NEBRASKA — THREE YEARS AGO”), kill their fathers and mothers and grandfathers and grandmothers and “The Blue Man.” See, a couple shady little individuals calling themselves Isaac and Malachi are instructed by “He Who Walks Behind the Rows.”

At this point, we should make a crucial distinction that just might save your life or at least guide you toward a better movie rental: In Nebraska, corn fields command kids to kill all the adults and make them sacrificial fodder. Meanwhile, in Iowa, corn fields instruct farmers to build a baseball diamond and they will come, well, except for Ty Cobb.

Anyhoo, Isaac (John Franklin) establishes a tyrannical regime of kids opposed to “sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll.” He’s a babbling pseudo-religious visionary with bad make-up. I laughed at Isaac’s pontification more than I have at some comedians over an entire career, because Isaac is a power-hungry miniature twit.

Malachi is the brute enforcer, a red-headed Jason Voorhees minus the hockey mask. He’s played by Courtney Gains, one of the best faces of 1980s movies. Sure we all remember Courtney Gains. George Constanza remembers him as the evil video store clerk in a “Seinfeld” episode. Gains appeared in BACK TO THE FUTURE, THE ‘BURBS, CAN’T BUY ME LOVE, and SECRET ADMIRER. For example, he tried cutting in on George McFly with Lorraine Baines at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance in good ole 1955. I’d rather talk more about Courtney Gains and his career than go back to reviewing CHILDREN OF THE CORN.

Where was I again? Who am I?

Anyway, Peter Horton and Linda Hamilton play our resident clean-cut wholesome All-American couple taking a trip inside a clean-cut wholesome All-American nightmare only found within a bad horror movie. These young lovers violate the Number One rule of interstate travel: ALWAYS STAY ON THE HIGHWAY. It’s almost like they never watched THE HILLS HAVE EYES.

This is yet another one of those “Of course” movies, because we say of course, they find a run down gas station with no telephone. Of course, the gas station owner’s a diabolical, shady old man in cahoots with the evil kiddos. Of course, the husband Burt (Horton) sees and hears something OVER THERE, always OVER THERE, and checks it out while the wife Vicky (Hamilton) wants to leave. Of course, they never do leave (until the end of the movie) and must fight through a living Hell to survive.

Next time, however, I suggest they drive through Iowa and find the Buddy Holly Crash Site near Clear Lake. It’s a long walk to the shrine of Holly, Ritchie Valens, and the Big Bopper, but a must if you love rock ‘n’ roll.

Back to the old man who’s the gas station attendant. He’s played by R.G. Armstrong in not one of his finest screen moments. Armstrong plays the role of a character whose function is that of the corpse in a self-contained murder sequence in a horror film, where it takes untold minutes to reach a destination we already predetermined in our heads after having watched countless self-contained murder sequences in horror films. Armstrong (1917-2012) must have rapidly slipped in his old age, considering that he survived THE BEAST WITHIN just a couple years before.

There’s also a little girl named Sarah, another pint-sized visionary. Her endearing and redeeming character trait is that she draws pictures of everything. Of course, Malachi wants to curb her artistic inclinations and of course, Isaac defends her visionary gifts, conflict among the ranks of the evil kiddos that only escalates during CHILDREN OF THE CORN.

I’d rather have looked at an exhibit of Sarah’s illustrations than watch CHILDREN OF THE CORN.

That’s because CHILDREN OF THE CORN bludgeons us with every cheap shock tactic of the bad horror movie.

There’s a lot of thunder and lightning, fire and brimstone, and loud music. And there are way too many scenes built on tight framing so we’re supposed to be scared on cue by an unexpected object jumping into the frame. The scariest accomplishment, however, of CHILDREN OF THE CORN is that it developed a cult following.

Silver Bullet (1985)

SILVER BULLET

SILVER BULLET (1985) Two stars

“It’s such a fine line between stupid, and clever.”

— Spinal Tap lead singer David St. Hubbins

That’s one way to describe the Stephen King adaptation SILVER BULLET, which has left viewers from day one debating whether or not the film makers were intentionally parodying Stephen King and werewolf movies by making so many individual details ridiculous.

Many reviewers just considered SILVER BULLET to be laughably bad and not in the good way, hot on the entrails of previous laughably bad King adaptations CUJO and CHILDREN OF THE CORN.

Watching SILVER BULLET for the first time in many, many years, I must admit the internal split and acknowledge the fine line between stupid and clever.

Let us consider:

— We have a narrator (Broadway standout Tovah Feldshuh) who sounds like an old woman, although it’s only nine years after the main events depicted in the film when she was 15 years old. Feldshuh’s even listed as playing “Older Jane.”

— Gary Busey plays Uncle Red, a womanizing drunkard who dotes on paralyzed prepubescent protagonist Marty Coslaw (Corey Haim), Jane’s younger brother, and makes the boy customized wheelchairs called “The Silver Bullet.” I remembered the second wheelchair most from previous viewings of the film when I was roughly the same age as Marty.

— That second wheelchair, oh wow, just let me tell you that you’ve not enjoyed a complete moviegoing life until you’ve seen the scene where our priest / werewolf (Everett McGill) stalks Marty and his souped-up “Silver Bullet” in broad daylight. Marty’s second great escape is even greater than his first.

— Uncle Red should have pursued a career in wheelchair manufacturing.

— This review gives away the identity of the werewolf. Big deal. The movie tips off the identity almost immediately, but, of course, in a movie like SILVER BULLET, the townspeople are nincompoops and it takes young ones like Marty and Jane to figure out the truth. Those nincompoops are on an epic scale of nincompoop. I mean, it’s tipped off so obviously that “WEREWOLF” should have flashed on the screen below the character. They all should have died.

— The nincompoops form a “Citizens Action Brigade” in the first 30 minutes … after four killings. They load up on guns, load up into trucks, head out into the woods, step into traps, et cetera. Two nincompoops produce one of the great dialogue exchanges from the Planet X. …

Maggie Andrews: What’s the matter, Bobby? You gonna make lemonade in your pants?

Bobby Robertson: I ain’t scared!

— The werewolf resembles a black bear. After the technological advances made in the werewolf movie just four years earlier by THE HOWLING and AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON, SILVER BULLET set the species back years.

If they remade SILVER BULLET today, would the original be called a “classic”? Undoubtedly yes, of course, because every old movie remade automatically becomes “classic.” We’ve heard that incessantly about the 1989 PET SEMATARY, for example.

SILVER BULLET, like PET SEMATARY, is not a classic by any definition — “Judged over a period of time to be of the highest quality and outstanding of its kind” or “A work of art of recognized and established value.”

For crying out loud, TEEN WOLF — released a couple months before SILVER BULLET — stands up better.