Children of the Corn IV: The Gathering

When horror movies go into production, the writers and directors are faced with a handful of very important questions:

Question 1--"What is the scariest thing in the world?"

Answer 1--"Children."

Question 2--"Is there anything more frightening than children?"

Answer 2--"Children hot with the fire of Old Time Religion."

So there can be no question that Stephen King knew he had cinematic gold when he pounded out "Children of the Corn" insisting humbly that, no, it was never meant to be reformatted into film; it was just a story to make pediophobes cry until their eyeballs crumbled.  We all know King was inwardly calculating the cost of installing a second fully staffed Starbucks into his fourth mansion (While this viewer can procure little actual evidence that such a monstrosity is present in any of his homes, the fact that King turns every bestselling novel/short story into a blockbusting flick suggests he would certainly be capable of owning a franchise or two).

However, there is one hitch in this monetizing scheme that only the magic of cinema can reveal: child actors. The fact of the matter is that, while a Dakota Fanning occasionally strolls into a swarming casting session, the likelihood of finding such a talent for the quaternary of any horror series is improbable to say the least.  In the fourth rendition of a cinematic set, the child actors tend to be overly dramatic, especially in roles that allow them to wield a scythe while riding a speeding gurney with the intent of splicing an old man in half.  It gets a little ridiculous. I am curious about the caliber of Children of the Corn, Sr. It makes sense that the massive amount of funding poured into a debut flick would procure a handful of adequate child actors and maybe just one Daveigh Chase (yeah, Rhonda Volmer and that freakshow from The Ring, same person. Crazy).  But by the fourth installment of this once brilliant idea, we're left with an inspired elementary school rendition of something that could maybe be scary.

Best place to start: this flick's liberal us of ye olde dream sequence. They pull this out at every dramatic twist. Naomi Watts even manages the more daring double-dream sequence. After dream 1, the audience is coaxed into a sense of restored safety with a sunny morning and sleeping sisters. And then Ms. Watts gets it in the neck with a garden trowel. Doesn't get much better than that.  I will excuse this film's reliance upon this technique, being that 1996 was practically the Stone Age; how could they have known that we in the future would scoff at the dream sequence's every mention? However, if 2001's Children of the Corn: Revelations pulls any of that crap out, you have to know that this viewer's response will not be nearly as forgiving!

I also had to love the recap of the corn curse given by Methuselah's wife and younger sister in an inadequately lit shack. The one paces about finishing her sister's sentences, widening her eyes with the flair of a true thespian, and fiddling with knick-knacks that come to mean nothing. The eldest sister just slowly rocks in her chair, while the portrait behind her cries blood. Awesome.

If my dear readers choose to subject themselves to the horror of watching such a flick on cable, The SciFi channel did a respectable job.  The cliffhangers were excellent in that they left this viewer skeeved for sure, but with some idea of the craziness that would ensue after the ads for ExtenZe and Pampers. While would could say the hints may have been a little too revealing, I like to have some time to wrap my mind around the scare tactics to come. My one complaint: each commercial break lasted seven minutes. Absurdo. Advice to those of you more crunched for time: record it and return at a moment of more convenience. This flick need not last two hours.

Reason to keep reading RaeRae: The promise of one day returning with a review of each flick in this notorious series.

Rant: This flick's liberal use of "sassy, black women" as victims of the scythe. Seriously, even for 1996, the use of this particular horror device was excessive to the point of being grotesque.