Last night I decided to take advantage of the plethora of Halloween offerings still lingering about on Shudder and decided to watch Children of the Corn II: The Final Sacrifice (1992).  It was not a good movie.

Its predecessor, Children of the Corn (1984), isn’t much better, but even though it’s not a great film, it’s one that I enjoy viewing from time to time.  There’s something iconic about the type of story it tells:  a bunch of kids murder their parents and indulge in some kind of weird corn cult.

The premise is simple but effective:  a bunch of kids conduct grisly murders at the behest of Isaac, a murderous pipsqueak who uses Malachi, an ugly Eighties ginger, to enforce his devotion to “He Who Walks Behind the Rows.”  That devotion involves sacrificing people to some kind of demonic entity that, well, walks behind the corn rows of Gatlin, Nebraska.

A couple end up in the town after their every attempt to drive past it results in a continuous loop.  Running out of gas and patience—and after running over the corpse of a murdered child who earlier had attempted escape from Gatlin—they reluctantly decide to search the abandoned town for a working telephone.

Then there’s a coup of some kind in which Malachi hangs Isaac up as an offering for “He Who Walks Behind the Rows” and hilarity (i.e., terror) ensues.

The film is kind of corny (see what I did there), but its impact on pop culture is indelible.  There is something intriguing about a society run entirely by the very young (and, by extension, the very inexperienced).  It shows up more artfully in The Lord of the Flies, or in a film like Logan’s Run (1976), and it’s a common trope of sci-fi and horror.

I always think of the iconic episode of South Park that spoofs and/or pays homage to the film:

I can’t help but think of Cartman every time I get to the “Outlander! We have your woman, Outlander!” part of the film.

The film also serves as a not-so-subtle commentary on the (perceived) excesses of firebrand religiosity.  The radio stations that broadcast through Gatlin only air fire-and-brimstone preachers, and Isaac adopts that same kind of stentorian delivery in his dark “sermons” about the demon in the cornfields.  He speaks in a kind of archaic, put-on, quasi-Biblical speech pattern that sounds like a kid who only grew up hearing the King James Version read aloud by an angry preacher.

The young couple are also reflective of the kind of “kids-are-a-burden” mentality that haunted the Boomers and their Generation X offspring.  The girlfriend wants kids; the boyfriend doesn’t.  Then they go into a town with only kids and it’s a nightmare, until they rescue the two normal kids.  I’m sure there’s some kind of message there.

Actually, there is, of sorts:  the boyfriend comes around on the idea of having kids, which is rather convenient, as it prevents a brother and sister from being abandoned to become troubled wards of the state.

Again, I don’t think Children of the Corn is particularly good, but it’s a fun movie in its own way.  It has certainly left an impression, much like the high-fructose corn syrup upon which we all rely for our flabby existences.