Village Of The Damned, Children Of The Damned

In a small British village, twelve emotionless blonde children with extraordinary intellect are mysteriously born at the same time. A scientist (George Sanders) whose wife (Barbara Shelley) has given birth to one of these odd children (Martin Stephens) becomes their teacher, and learns that their powers may be more destructive than anyone could have imagined…


As Danny Peary notes, this “scary, well-made movie” — a “loose adaptation of John Wyndham’s novel The Midwich Cuckoos” — is “a top-notch horror film” which features “impressive atmospheric direction by Wolf Rilla” (who never made another “important film”). As in Val Lewton’s horror films of the 1940s, Rilla generates tension primarily through atmosphere and suggestion rather than explicit violence; the opening sequence, for instance — in which villager after villager collapses in the middle of their daily business — is truly frightening in its implication of sudden collective powerlessness. Indeed, throughout the film, we’re kept in suspense about what exactly has caused these mysterious children to be (virginally) conceived and then born — we can surmise that they’re alien spawn of some kind, but we never learn this for a fact, nor do we understand why or how they’re able to grow (both in utero and out) at nearly twice the normal human rate.

While Village of the Damned works perfectly well on its own as simply a taut, enjoyable horror flick, the presentation of other-worldly children who share a collective brain and have the power to make the adults around them do whatever they wish remains ripe for thematic investigation. In some ways, they’re clearly an allegory for the Communist Scare of the 1950s — emotionless beings who have invaded an idyllic Western town, and must be destroyed (by decisive force) before they “take over” (though their icy blonde hair makes them appear more like Aryan cogs than Russian workers). Others have suggested that Village of the Damned represents a thinly veiled exploration of sexual mores in the 1960s, when women’s right to control their own reproductive potential was squarely in confrontation with religious mandates. Regardless of one’s deeper analysis, however, the unsmiling children — with their glowing, penetrating gaze (the film’s only concession to special effects) — remain an iconic trope in the history of horror cinema. 

Two scientists (Ian Hendry and Alan Badel) discover that six genetically similar children exist around the world who possess a vastly superior intelligence. When they’re brought to London for further observation, however, all hell breaks loose, as government officials begin to speculate about how the children’s powers may be “used”, and the children react defensively by secluding themselves in an enormous church.

This follow-up to 1960′s classic horror film Village of the Damned takes the original story’s essential concept — children with superhuman intelligence who pose a threat to humanity — and shifts it into an entirely different context. This time, the children (though still mysteriously born to virginal mothers) live in various countries around the world, look different (rather than wearing the same blonde wig, they’re a veritable multicultural crew), and aren’t posited as inherently evil or alien — indeed, they only band together once they realize that they’re about to be used as pawns by governments eager to exploit their extraordinary talents for military purposes. The second half of the film basically features a show-down between the children and British military forces, with additional drama generated through a quibbling pair of scientists (Ian Hendry and Alan Badel) who disagree about whether the children should be destroyed or protected. Ultimately, Children of the Damned is more of a pacifist parable than a horror flick, and never reaches the chilling heights of its iconic predecessor; nonetheless, it’s certainly worth a look on its own merits. (FilmFanatic.org)