The Space Children (USA, 1958) 69 min B&W DIR: Jack Arnold. PROD: William Alland. SCR: Bernard C. Schoenfeld, based on the story, The Egg by Tom Filer. MUSIC: Van Cleave. DOP: Ernest Laszlo. CAST: Michel Ray, Adam Williams, Peggy Webber, Johnny Washbrook, Jackie Coogan, Ty Hardin, Russell Johnson, Johnny Crawford. (Olive Films)
After his string of 1950s science fiction classics at Universal, director Jack Arnold went to Paramount for this comparatively obscure effort, which until now has never been on home video in any format. While it may not be up to par with his other works like It Came from Outer Space or The Incredible Shrinking Man, it is however one of Arnold’s most thought-provoking genre efforts.
The title is erroneous, as the children are human, however affected by an extra-terrestrial brain-like creature that lands by a nuclear test site. This being largely only makes its presence known among the children of the families who live and work on the premises, and brainwashes them into sabotaging the upcoming rocket launch.
The film lacks the production values that Arnold enjoyed at Universal: the narrative awkwardly cuts from realistic locations to obvious sets with canned stage sound. Still, Arnold gives the project his customary, matter-of-fact approach. It is distinguished with a unique atmosphere enhanced by moody lighting and the sounds of a Theremin during every hint of paranormal activity.
Two years before Village of the Damned hit the screens, Jack Arnold had already offered the fascinating scenario of what happens when the children lead. As such, there are some unsettling moments where the children, led by the angel-eyed Michel Ray, and Johnny Crawford (from TV’s The Rifleman) carry out this mission. The film succeeds in being creepy merely from the simple shots of kids holding dolls as they gaze at the havoc that unfolds in front of them.
Because this is obviously intended as a quickie half of a double bill, the brisk narrative skimps on solid characterizations. The compact screenplay however offers many thoughtful ideas. This is a fascinating look at the dysfunctions of 1950s domestic life, as the family unit is as makeshift as their cramped trailers on the base, which they call home.
Despite their attempts at having a normal life with weenie roasts and root beer, social inadequacies lie beneath the exteriors, as these nomadic military scientists cannot establish roots. The adults are further portrayed as squabbling, harried and deeply depressed; their true selves are subsided in order to serve this great brain-trust of nuclear defense. Their children are pushed aside, ignored and hushed.
In some perverse manner, the alien acts as a surrogate parent. The young minds are obviously the easiest to control, but are also the most willing to accept new ideas. At first, the alien seems diabolical, but this deity-like being has descended from the skies to elicit the help of a generation that will eventually inherit the earth. The ploy for nuclear disarmament will set the human race on a more true sense of Utopia than that which the adults falsely cling to.
The Space Children is available on disc via Olive Films, in a typical bare bones release. Still, I’m glad it’s on the shelf.
Originally published in Vol. #1, Issue 25.
Greg Woods
Greg Woods has been a film enthusiast since his teens, and began his writing "career" at the same time- prolific in capsule reviews of everything he had watched, first on index cards, then those hardcover dollar store black journals, then an old Mac IIsi. He founded The Eclectic Screening Room in 2001, as a portal to share his film love with the world, and find some like-minded enthusiasts along the way. In addition to having worked in the film industry for over two decades, he has been a co-programmer of films at Trash Palace, and a programmer/co-founder of the Toronto Film Noir Syndicate. He has also written for Broken Pencil, CU-Confidential, Micro-Film, and is currently working on his first novel. His secret desire is for someone to interview him for a podcast or a DVD extra.