· The Finical Filmgoer ·
The Children (2008) Nobody raises horrible children like the British. The child actors who starred in horror classics like Village of the Damned, The Innocents and The Omen set the standard for creepy children, in a manner that is unmatched in American cinema. Maybe it's the sugary smarm inherent in the American child actor? I don't know. But if the central character in a horror film reveals even the slightest trace of "cuteness", all is lost. And yet, time, MacDonalds, MTV and Barney the purple thing have slowly infected the Victorian tone of British child-rearing with the hypoglycemia which has ruined the American child-persona, and one can find evidence of this trend in a horror film enjoying some notoriety called The Children (2008). Still, one must admit that the great tradition of creepy children lingers in the performances of the young actors. Perhaps you can rent the film and weigh in? But as the days pass, all of the children appear to come down with a kind of flu. What with the various influenzas that have plagued civilization, who is to say that Hong Kong flu, Spanish flu, Avian flu and Swine flu could not be followed by Child Maniac flu? Subsequent to the onset of the illness, the childrens' personalities change, and they are tranformed to cold-blooded killers. Where did you say the children were? The film's tagline, You brought them into this world. Now ... They will take you out, admirably captures the proceedings. The film tries a little too hard to ramp up the horror, which has the effect of putting too fine a point on the knife, as it were. With a little less of the heavy-hand, this could have been great child-horror fare. Regardless, it served to cement M. Chariot's lifelong commitment to childlessness. The barren life At the very least, I strongly recommend that if one encounters children carrying knives during flu season, one should avoid allowing one's throat to be less than 4 feet off the ground. Wrong: 1.5 feet off the ground 
In The Children, two families gather on an English country estate to celebrate Christmas. The film opens on a car transporting one of the families to the event, and we are treated to parental chatter, with a sullen teenager and the cheery shrieking of children in the back seat. Upon arrival, one of the urchins vomits with some gusto, and the parents attribute it to car sickness. 
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JustJuli
David Dean Bottrell
Shivaun Nestor
Bill Maher
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I loved the short story Children of the Corn. That was Stephen King channeling Shirley Jackson and the casual menace of these murderous rural kids swept by religious fervor was fantastic. Skip the movie, but read the short.
This Tuesday has become brighter with an appearance of a post from you.
I was grateful to see you were referencing the classic 1960’s version of “Village of the Damned” and not that awful John Carpenter directed remake of 1995.
As usual you have made me grin, laugh, and admire your use of language as well as your forethought in regard to what a happy life means to you.
If Open Salon ever considers having a signature wordsmith I would happily cast my vote for you.
Rated and appreciated as always.
p.s. The blood spattered ornament was a very nice touch.
rated
All of which will take place at a different, new playground. Where they don't know me.
This reminds me of some creepy twins in my social scene. They're adults, but they're petite ladies and they have long red hair and dress like Alice in Wonderland. I don't know them, I just see them out dancing a lot. Once, I was in the ladies room and I heard whispering. Then the twins came out of the handicapped stall together. I tell myself it is an act and they do it on purpose for kicks.
Right.
"When we grew up and went to school,
There were certain teachers who would,
Hurt the children any way they could.
By pouring their derision upon anything we did.
Exposing every weakness,
However carefully hidden by the kids."
"We are coming. We are coming. We are coming."
(Though supposedly all the world's children stopped what they were doing at the same time and said that in unison, they kept showing the British children in their school uniforms doing that on the playground. Which is so much creepier than American children doing so.)
Cool post. I love it when someone notices something new.
Unfortunately, we still have a number of Child Maniacs even if we don't have to cope with that strain of flu. Yet.
Rated.
Our teenage gang members just shoot each other. :D
And what other nation's youth could raise a psychopathic bastard like Sid Vicious to near sainthood? By comparison, Ozzy Osbourne and Marilyn Manson are weak tea.
As my kids are British but raised mostly in America, they are only a little creepy. Besides, they are adults now, and try to mask it when they can.
I loved your humor.
"Children in horror films must be eerily adult-like, coldly self-possessed, with ghastly dead eyes - bringing British children immediately to mind."
hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!
But would you consider spawning a young'un with me?
Most excellent, scary children should be well behaved and eat their porridge.
She was so disturbing, Hollywood had to tack a happy ending lightning bolt on to the play to get the movie past the censors. Had the actress been British, she'd have been "Patricia McCormack," which would have spoiled everything.
My dear M. Sheepdog ~ Little darlings are little darlings regardless of where they commit their murders.
My dear Mme Stephens ~ M. Chariot adores literary horror, and will be sure to check out your recommendation!
My dear M. Knight ~ I beg you not to submit that ornament for DNA testing!
My dear M. Willie ~ M. Chariot agrees. The Brits have perpetrated a history of horror on an unsuspecting public: consider if you will, Morrissey, the Osbournes and Simon Cowell.
My dear Mlle Blonde ~ As a child, M. Chariot's top hat was consistently kicked around the playground. A painful reminiscence.
My dear Mlle Latethink ~ M. Chariot is flattered by the pleasure you take in watching my "wheels turn". Just don't be under them when I back up, my dear girl.
My dear Mlle Mumbletypeg ~ May I recommend fixing a tiny stiletto to the tip of your crutch? One never knows when 'The Children' will attack, and I do worry about you, my dear.
My dear Mlle Roulette ~ Has Kid Roulette been fluish lately? I fear for your safety!
My dear Mlle LBOSpoons ~ My dear, I would do anything to tag along on one of your nightly forays!
My dear Mlle Surly ~ The Shadow knows!
My dear Mme Young ~ Be forewarned. All it takes is one.
My dear M. Cordle ~ "You! Yes, you behind the bikesheds, stand still laddy!"
My dear M. Pritchard ~ Back at you! 'Suddenly Last Summer', where Sebastian is cannibalized alive by a kiddie cabal!
My dear Mlle Nolting ~ M. Chariot is far too delicate to submit himself to the horrors of a 903 year old Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey!
My dear Mme Kelly ~ By all means, avoid 'Juno', one of the most terrifying child-horror films of all time!
My dear Mme Haynes ~ As you well know, some of the most bone-chilling films are home videos of child talent shows.
My dear Mlle Skeletnwmn ~ With your screenname one would imagine you owned an entire library of Halloween features!
My dear Mlle Mendel ~ Hogwarts, all of them!
My dear Mlle Shiral ~ An insidious disease, my dear! Keep a hand-sanitizer at the ready.
My dear Mlle Phillyart ~ Is Kate/8 one of those zombie offerings?
My dearest M. Lazar ~ And no one appreciates it like you. Sigh.
My dear Mlle Glover ~ And their tiny eyes! Their Tiny Eyes!!!!
My dear Mme Smithie Redux ~ Advice writ in blood, my dear!
My dear M. Reedtoon ~ If your children awoke you in the AM with a meat cleaver, would you not consider shipping them off to boarding school?
My dear M. GeeBee ~ Once your children are over forty, I think you can feel quite safe again.
My dear Mlle Black ~ The weirdness of the Children of Londontown is second only to the weirdness of the Children of Mississippi!
My dear Mlle Marcelle ~ Once the vomiting and diarrhea begins, they are known to switch from knives to meat cleavers. Make a note of it.
My dear Mlle Wilmarth ~ But think of the adult lives you'll save!
My dear M. Blevins ~ To say nothing of the French.
My dear Mlle Peel ~ Ghostly coldness, excruciatingly polite manners and a certain superiority spells nothing if not murder!
My dear Mlle Renaissance ~ As far as 'The Children' are concerned, there is a price on each of our heads!
My dear Mme Stellaa ~ Let's just be certain that porridge has some very special 'seasonings', shall we?
My dear M. Harrison ~ I recall that film and that treacly coda. It was like putting a dollop of whipped cream and a cherry on a corpse!
My dear Mlle Mann ~ Someone had to be the Voice of the People! Someone had to secure the safety of the Adults! Someone had to alert the world to the horror of 'The Children'!
If you think the British children are bad, you should taste their cooking.
Midnight Meat Train is directed by Ryûhei Kitamura, and promises to be theatrical and beautiful; and it stars a then-less-infamous Bradley Cooper; Vinnie Jones as the evil-doer; and cameo by Brooke Shields (I know, who'd a thunk it?). I'll let you know how it goes....
xxoo,
- Con
Why, oh why, did I ever spawn?
My dear Mlle Mack ~ Yawning during a private screening of The Children confirms something I have always suspected about you; a certain fearlessness where The Children are concerned!
My dear Mlle Celt ~ A dark wisdom indeed.
My dear Mlle Lulu&Phoebe ~ When bathing children, be certain no sharp objects are present and that your throat is covered.
My dear Mlle Warren ~ Takes one to know one, hmmm?
My dear Mlle Hyblaean ~ Next on my Halloween list: The Broken!
My dear M. Lefty ~ I had stayed away only because a cabal of menacing Children had surrounded my cloistral apartments, skipping, playing and laughing - maniacally.
My dear MAWB ~ The urge to strangle The Children is to be avoided: they carry meat cleavers to deal with the likes of you!
My dear M. LuisG ~ Consider yourself lucky to have escaped that kindergarten classroom alive, my good man!
My dear Mme Emrich ~ I am so relieved to see you have taken note. I am here only to save adult lives!
This is my only childhood phobia. Otherwise, I'm perfect! yeah right.
'She stuck the knife in the babby's head
Weile weile waile
And the more she stuck it, the more it bled
Down by the river Saile.'
I fondly remember singing it on my Daddy's knee. As Ronnie Drew of the Dubliners used to say: that gives you an idea of the kind of children we have in Dublin...