Dear readers, though I studiously avoid giving credence to any notions that reek of generalization, I will venture that my fellow horror enthusiasts tend to prefer the indoors and it would be foolhardy on my part to assume that horticulture is a common hobby among the genre’s most dedicated fans. I myself, however, have found myself sporting something of a “green thumb” now and then. Beyond the simple satisfaction of dirt disposed and seeds sown, a garden often manifests itself as an instructive metaphor and one of the many life lessons to be found lurking about premeditated greenery is that one never truly knows what might sprout up. My sweet Penny Dee and I never dared expect that the scant handfuls of witch’s ivy seed we tossed about the yard would turn into the robust entanglement that now encompasses the entire east wing exterior, blocking all light from our windows so thoroughly that we are forced to navigate by lamplight even at midday. 

Similarly, I imagine, the great Stephen King could never have suspected that his short story “Children of the Corn” would flower into a healthy franchise of feature-length horror movies that has stood tall for three decades. The tenth and most recent installment concerns Ruth (Marci Miller), a member of the homicidal child-led cult that has been the focus of the series thus far. Showing great maturity for her age, young Ruth decided it was best to leave the murderous bunch behind and felt it best to burn the remaining members alive before departing. This daring withdrawal left her with few financial prospects and ten years later she and her son Aaron (Jake Ryan Scott), have adopted a transient existence, living in their truck and squeezing out a meager income selling scrap metal for salvage. 

When a steady job and a generous boarding offer provide an opportunity for the two of them to settle, Ruth makes the best of it for her son’s sake. Leaving the cult hasn’t been psychologically seamless and Ruth suffers child-related breaks from reality that can lead to some embarrassing public outbursts. But her visions of tiny fists raised in murderous anger prove to be more than just post-traumatic tremors when various locals in her newly adopted town are disposed of most violently, all in the presence of a little girl whose demeanor is very much in keeping with the supposedly extinguished cult that Ruth left behind.

Children of the Corn: Runaway displays a level of production value that has eluded the series in the last few decades. The cinematography is surprisingly lush and the digital gore effects are rendered in a sumptuous slow motion that adds a certain hypnotic beauty to the typically routine sight of children butchering their elders. These aesthetic improvements, a dependable cast and a few genuinely alarming sequences should be enough to cover any dissatisfaction some may find with an emotionally truncated conclusion that might have seriously hobbled a less technically accomplished effort. I, for one, heartily commend the decision to lavish funds upon a franchise that has sustained itself entirely on modest budgets. Though it may be argued with some justification that the story does not make the best of its monetary advantages, its existence is still an encouraging sign, like a satisfactory harvest season after several years of scrawny returns. Perhaps if the series continues to benefit from such rich soil, it may still grow in new and unexpected directions.

Children of the Corn: Runaway runs 82 minutes and does not possess a certified rating in the United States.