CHILDREN OF THE CORN (1984)

 

(Director: Fritz Kiersch. Screenwriter: George Goldsmith, his work loosely based on Stephen King’s short story, republished in his NIGHT SHIFT anthology, 1978.)

 

Review

Gatlin, Nebraska, the early 1980s. One Sunday morning, during a “corn drought,” most of the kids kill the adults in town. This brief-segment event is narrated by a young boy (Job, shown later) after the fact.

October third, three years later. A doctor, Burt Stanton (Peter Horton, FADE TO BLACK, 1980), and Vicky Baxter (Linda Hamilton, THE TERMINATOR, 1984) a couple, drive to Seattle, Washington. They’re in day-bright Nebraska, near Gatlin, when a throat-slashed boy (Joseph, played by Jonas Marlowe) stumbles in front of Burt’s car—Burt can’t stop in time, he hits Joseph.

Burt and Vicky check the dead teenager, unaware that Joseph was fleeing the adult-murdering, corn god worshipping cult. Seeing Joseph’s non-vehicular (and fatal) wound, Burt places his corpse in the car trunk, intending to report the crime to the local authorities. The couple also doesn’t know they’re being observed, something revealed via killer-point-of-view (POV) shots—used throughout CHILDREN—while trying-to-be-creepy choral music plays.

A series of cultic designs detour Vicky and Burt onto Gatlin’s eerie, seemingly deserted main street. The rest of CHILDREN is a series of frenetic cycles of life-and-death pursuits and confrontations between the Seattle-bound “outlanders” and faith-rabid Nebraskan youth—much of it fueled by menacing cultist Malachai Boardman (Courtney Gains), a kill-happy, scythe-wielding adolescent looking for the next “Blue Man” sacrifice in the cornfield where He Who Walks Behind the Rows overtly manifests Himself.

Loosely based on Stephen King’s tale of the same name* and shot in multiple locations in Iowa, CHILDREN is more upbeat and streamlined than its source tale, making it an almost generic terror flick, e.g., its loose-thread, scriptural reference to the Blue Man (whose real-world source should’ve been revealed in the film), as well as its altered, less-grim ending.

Not only that, CHILDREN, mostly suspenseless, is overlong—unfortunate, because CHILDREN’s source-story set-up is perfect for a tightly penned, B-movie-fun episode of TALES FROM THE CRYPT (1989-96), CREEPSHOW (2019-present) or shows of that ilk, where there’s enough time for King’s key source-tale backstory and the visual economy of an hourlong program.

Some genre-familiar viewers might take issue with its soundtrack, composed by Jonathan Elias (LEPRECHAUN 2, 1994)—though it sounds like he tried to imbue CHILDREN’s aural aspects with innocence and eeriness, overuse of its jump-scare motifs and constant OMEN-esque (1976) choral-lite lifts makes the film’s score come off as heavy-handed and distracting at times, perhaps further reflecting CHILDREN’s monetary constraints.

CHILDREN sports cheesy (even for back then) effects and minimal blood spatters (when more was realistically called for), something—like the rest of its qualities—are attributable to its budget being halved shortly before its cameras rolled. More-ambitious effects and set-pieces were planned, but when King (supposedly) demanded more money to put his name on the title, those scenes were abandoned prior to filming. I would’ve liked to see what FX artists Wayne Beauchamp (EXORCIST II: THE HERETIC, 1977, uncredited) and Eric Rumsey (PRAY FOR DEATH, 1985) could’ve done with more money.

One of the elements that has aged well with this film is its cinematography, provided by João Fernandes (THE PROWLER, 1981). His visual tones maintain the day-heat and nightfall of CHILDREN’s milieu; also, its set design (Cricket Rowland, TO LIVE AND DIE IN L.A., 1985) and art direction (Craig Stearns, THE BLOB, 1988) are particularly effective.

Other notable, effective cast members include:

Robby Kiger (THE MONSTER SQUAD, 1987) as Job, opening-segment narrator and one of the two kids who help the “outlanders”;

Annie Marie McEvoy (INVITATION TO HELL, 1984) as Sarah, who, blasphemously, draws her future-event visions, and also helps Burt and Vicky;

John Franklin (THE ADDAMS FAMILY, 1991) as Isaac Chroner, Gatlin’s iconic and eerie-faced cult leader;

John Philbin (THE RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD, 1985) as Amos Deigan, eager sacrifice for He Who Walks Behind the Rows;

and

character actor R.G. Armstrong (RACE WITH THE DEVIL, 1975) as Diehl, a gas station owner who directs Vicky and Burt to the safety of Hemmingford (“nineteen miles away”)—the same location that attracts, via dreams, many of the protagonists in King’s 1978 novel THE STAND.

Mitch Carter (THE FIRST POWER, 1990) lends his voice talent to CHILDREN as the over-the-top “Radio Preacher” Vicky and Burt mock, then dread.

Given its limitations, CHILDREN has fun B-flick parts, if you don’t expect much, don’t mind generic Eighties cheese, characters who won’t kill to save their own lives, and aren’t a book-to-film purist. I wouldn’t actively seek CHILDREN out, but it’s far from the worst King adaptation to grace the silver screen.

Nine sequels, starting with CHILDREN OF THE CORN II: THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE (1993), followed. A remake, also titled CHILDREN OF THE CORN, aired on stateside television on September 26, 2009, directed by Donald P. Borchers.

 

[*republished in King’s 1978 anthology NIGHT SHIFT]

GRAVEYARD SHIFT (1990)

 

(a.k.a. STEPHEN KING’S GRAVEYARD SHIFT; director: Ralph S. Singleton. Screenwriter: John Esposito, his script loosely based on Stephen King’s short story of the same name, originally published in Cavalier magazine, October 1970 issue, and later collected in King’s 1978 story anthology NIGHT SHIFT.)

 

Review

A drifter, John Hall (David Andrews, A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, 1984), wanders into a Maine textile mill town, and is hired at the cemetery- and river-adjacent Bachman Mill by its sadistic manager, Warwick (Stephen Macht, THE MONSTER SQUAD, 1987). The mill, like the town, is a seething cesspool of economic desperation, interpersonal tension, amassing rats (there’s rat hair in the local diner’s food), chemical pollution, health code violations, fatal “accidents” and lechery─that last quality is especially embodied by Warwick, who’s slept with many of his female employees. Warwick dislikes polite “college boy” (Warwick’s words) Hall. His barely restrained animosity increases when Jane Wisconsky (Kelly Wolf), who regularly rebuffs the mill manager’s advances, engages in a flirtatious friendship with Hall.

Several violent, gory employee deaths─shown onscreen as extreme close-up monster attacks─happen during Hall’s first few days in town. July fourth quickly arrives. That means that the mill needs its  decades-abandoned, and trash-filled basement cleaned to get ahead of expensive health code violations that might shut the mill down. Cleanup employees, supervised by Warwick, include Hall, Wisconsky, Carmichael (a newly hired African American employee), and several of Warwick’s cronies (Danson, Brogan, and Stevenson, who’ve been bullying the strong-but-restrained Hall).

Hall, during the shift, discovers the source of the swarming rats: an abandoned subbasement they’ve been driven from, leading to the question: what drove them from their cemetery-linked nest? Unfortunately for Warwick, Hall, and the others it’s a subbasement they must investigate. 

This critically and audience underrated film is one of my favorite King-cinematic adaptations. GRAVEYARD is pervasive-dread atmospheric with its down and dirty execution, icky and dark visuals, and shadow-past characters (few are innocent here, except for Carmichael and Wisconsky).

GRAVEYARD spices its ugly, sharp tone with Vietnam War metaphors and set-ups, e.g., Tucker Cleveland (called “The Exterminator” by IMDb), a vermin killer for Marshall Extermination, is a vocal Vietnam veteran. Also, lots of closeup shots resemble war-film combat shots, especially in GRAVEYARD’s third act when Warwick’s alpha male actions further endanger those around him.

The monster, initially seen in extreme closeups (big shadow, claws, wings, jaws, etc.), is realistic enough to be believable while incorporating a 1950s Big Monster details in the visual mix. It, like many of the film’s other elements, maintains GRAVEYARD’s down and dirty vibe and overall thematic conceit. I can well imagine director/special effects artist Bert I. Gordon approving of it.

GRAVEYARD also has an underlying sense of humor, like the scene where one of the characters, Ippeston, sitting in a diner booth behind Hall and Wisconsky, reads a paperback copy of Gilbert A. Ralston’s 1972 movie tie-in novel, BEN, about a lonely boy and his pet rat.

This being a King-sourced film, there are references to some of his other works, e.g., Wisconsky’s mention of Castle Rock (the site of numerous King works), and Cleveland’s skewering of “cheap” mine boss (Bachman)─King briefly wrote under the nom de plume Richard Bachman.

The cast is excellent, though two actors steal the film: Stephen Macht, as mill manager Warwick, oozes alpha male malevolence and privilege, making him one of the best villains of any film released in 1990; Brad Dourif’s over-the-top Cleveland harbors a grim-humored hatred of rats and the Vietcong as well as a curious empathy, the latter evidenced by his love of his small, rat-terrorizing dog, Roxie.

Other notable, effective cast members include Andrew Divoff (WISHMASTER, 1997), as Danson, and Victor Polizos (C.H.U.D.,1984) as Brogan, Bachman Mill employees and bullies. Jonathan Emerson (THE UNBORN, 1991) has a brief role at the beginning of the film as Jason Reed, a cotton picker operator who should spend less time mocking rats.

GRAVEYARD isn’t perfect (few films are)─e.g., its editing occasionally feels choppy, especially in the beginning. But if you can overlook that, are not a King purist, are a fan of gory and gritty filmmaking (GRAVEYARD sports great set design, lighting, etc.), and like big, Old School Horror monsters, you might enjoy GRAVEYARD, a good expansion of King’s excellent story.

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For those comparing the differences between the story and the film (minor film-story spoilers follow).  If you don't want to know, read no further.

Tucker Cleveland/The Exterminator doesn’t exist in King’s story. He’s a film-only character.

In the story, Wisconsky is mentioned by Hall as Warwick’s boss. In the film, Hall’s love interest, Jane, has the surname Wisconsky, and the never-shown Bachman is Warwick’s boss.

The film is structured with a Vietnam War metaphor that the source story lacks.

John Hall and Warwick’s cinematic reactions to the discovery of the subbasement are reversed from the story. In the film, Warwick is gung-ho and murderous; Hall, in his right mind, is terrified and runs. In the story, Hall hates Warwick and kills him by impelling the sadistic mill manager toward a giant, mutated rat, described as the magna mater (queen mother).

SLEEPWALKERS (1992)

 

(Director: Mick Garris. Screenwriter: Stephen King.)

Review

Two half-feline/half-monster shapeshifters─”sleepwalkers”─move into a small town (Travis, Indiana), so that one of them, sick, can feed on a virgin. These sleepwalkers, Mary Brady (Alice Krige, SILENT HILL, 2006) and her vain, seemingly adolescent son (Charles Brady, played by Brian Krause, PLAN 9, 2015), insinuate themselves into the lives of the townspeople, especially the virginal Tanya Robertson (Mädchen Amick, TWIN PEAKS, 1989-91), whom Charles sets his oh-so-charming sights on. But the Bradys’ well-established and oft-executed plans go sideways in a violent and moderately gory way.

Stephen King’s screenplay, not based on any of his published stories or novels, is a silly, fun, and loopy ride, a mix of 1950s science fiction-horror, shapeshifter terror, familiar King settings and elements (cats, small towns, etc.), with late 1980s and early 1990s elements (e.g., Charles’s heavy metal guitar-wank motif) blended in.

It’s an entertaining flick, if you can appreciate its inherent silliness and occasionally icky EC Comics homage roots and often goofy, oddball characters, played by some fine actors, not the least of whom is Clovis the Attack Cat, who really hates sleepwalkers, especially Charles.

Beyond Krige, Krause and Amick, these players include: Cindy Pickett (DEEPSTAR SIX, 1989) as Mrs. Robertson, Tanya’s mother; Lyman Ward (A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET 2: FREDDY’S REVENGE, 1985) as Mr. Robertson, Tanya’s father; Glenn Shadix (BEETLEJUICE, 1988) as Mr. Fallows, a scheming teacher; Dan Martin (NIGHTMARE CINEMA, 2018) as Deputy Andy Simpson, Clovis the Attack Cat’s driver and staff member; Jim Haynie (JACK’S BACK, 1988) as Ira, the town’s sheriff; Ron Perlman (CRONOS, 1993) as Captain Soames, one of Ira’s cynical deputies; and Rusty Schwimmer (CANDYMAN, 1992) as a housewife, seen at the start of this fast-paced film.

Film and book geeks may delight in SLEEPWALKERS’s numerous cameos: Stephen King as “Cemetery Caretaker”; Clive Barker (HELLRAISER, 1987) as a dismissive in-the-field “Forensic Tech”; Tobe Hooper (THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE, 1974), an in-the-lab “Forensic Tech,” Joe Dante (THE HOWLING, 1981), another lab “Forensic Tech”; Cynthia Garris (CRITTERS 2, 1988) as Laurie, Hooper and Dante’s fellow “Lab Technician.”

SLEEPWALKERS may prove a worthwhile flick if you’re a fan of King’s MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE (1986) and CREEPSHOW (1982, another EC Comics homage), and don’t mind oddball silliness and characters, with corn on the cob on the side.

THE DEAD ZONE (1983)

 

(Director: David Cronenberg. Screenplay: Jeffrey Boam.)

Review

Based on Stephen King’s 1979 novel of the same name, this 1983 sad and horrifying David Cronenberg movie is one of my all-time favorite precognitive films. Its perpetually-set-in-wintry-tones mood is perfect for its emotional content and events while Johnny Smith tries to find his way in the world after a five-year coma, only to find that his melancholic recovery is complicated by a clairvoyant and precognitive abilities, which may kill him.

Boam’s screenplay and Cronenberg’s direction are great, with characters worth caring about and equally excellent actors to play them. Christopher Walken played Johnny Smith. Herbert Lom played Dr. Sam Weizak. Brooke Adams played his lost-love, Sarah Bracknell. Tom Skerritt played Sheriff Bannerman. Martin Sheen played Greg Stillson. Jackie Burroughs played Vera Smith, Johnny’s mother. Nicholas Campbell played Deputy Frank Dodd. Colleen Dewhurst, who played Henrietta Dodd (Frank’s mother), previously appeared in Woody Allen’s ANNIE HALL (1977) as the mother of Walken’s character, Duane Hall. Anthony Zerbe played Robert Stuart. William B. Davis (OMEN IV: THE AWAKENING, 1991), billed as William Davis, played "Ambulance Driver".

The human-based horror, as well as its palpable mood, is unsettling and memorable, like that of the source book, King’s first Top-Ten of the year bestseller. Composer Michael Kamen’s score adds an extra sense of longing, loss and flinching terror to this potent mix of talents.

Deep(er) filmic dive

According to IMDb, King’s novel and Cronenberg’s film are “loosely based on the life of famous psychic Peter Hurkos. Hurkos claimed to have acquired his alleged power after falling off a ladder and hitting his head". 

Bill Murray was Stephen King’s choice to play Johnny Smith.

Helene Uddy, who played “Weizak’s Mother,” also appeared in MY BLOODY VALENTINE (1981), MRS. CLAUS (2018) and other, sometimes-notable films.