Children of the Corn

In the windswept plains of Nebraska, a lone town clings to the endless rows of corn that surround it, each stalk whispering of secrets long buried beneath the earth. The landscape is both beautiful and oppressive, a golden sea that masks an undercurrent of unease. Light flickers through the stalks at dusk, turning ordinary fields into a labyrinth of shadow, while an ancient, unnamed presence seems to linger just beyond the edge of perception, its influence felt more than seen.

When a couple drives through this desolate stretch, the heat of the sun mirrors the tension in their relationship. Burt and Vicky are on a trip meant to rekindle what has frayed over the years, yet their conversations are marked by biting sarcasm and reluctant silence. The road ahead feels endless, and the isolation of the countryside forces them to confront the quiet that has settled between them, each mile bringing both a physical and emotional crossroads.

Beyond the highway lies Gatlin, a community where the children appear to hold a strange reverence for the fields, guided by a belief in a mysterious entity that dwells within the corn. The town’s atmosphere is thick with ritualistic whispers, and the line between faith and fanaticism blurs as the youngsters move with purpose through the stalks. The ancient force, known only in hushed tones, promises a bountiful harvest in exchange for a chilling devotion, casting a pall over every interaction and hinting at a darkness that could consume all who venture too far.

As the couple steps into this unsettling world, they must decide whether to remain detached observers or become entangled in a web of fear and tradition. Their strained bond, the eerie rural setting, and the unsettling cult of children create a tension that crackles like static in the summer air, inviting the audience to wonder what will happen when ordinary lives intersect with an ancient, relentless hunger.

Last Updated: August 09, 2025 at 20:54