There's Something Wrong with the Children

In the quiet stretch of a remote forest, a group of close friends gathers for a weekend retreat, swapping city noise for the rustle of pine and the soft glow of firelight. The cabins sit huddled together among towering trees, promising a peaceful escape from daily demands, yet the woods seem to hold an ancient, whisper‑thin edge that hints at something beyond ordinary solitude.

The adult dynamic is as layered as the forest canopy. Margaret opens her home with warm hospitality, while Ben, her partner, balances a cautious optimism with the quiet undercurrent of his own anxieties. Their friends, Ellie and Thomas, arrive with a marriage that feels a little frayed, their conversations tinged with unspoken tension and a yearning for reconnection. Beneath the friendly banter, each character carries personal hopes and insecurities that subtly shape the tone of their shared getaway.

Among the adults, the two children—Lucy and Spencer—move with the boundless curiosity of youth, their laughter echoing through the trees. As the weekend unfolds, the forest’s allure takes a strange turn: the kids wander farther than expected, drawn toward an unseen pulse that seems to emanate from the surrounding woods. When they return, something about them feels altered, their behavior carrying an uncanny, almost otherworldly quality that only Ben seems to fully notice. His growing unease clashes with Margaret’s attempts to rationalize the oddness, setting the stage for a tense push‑and‑pull between belief and doubt.

The film settles into a mood of lingering dread, where the natural beauty of the setting is shadowed by a subtle, pervasive horror. It invites viewers to feel the suspense ripple through the close‑knit group as they confront a mystery that slips just beyond the edge of perception, promising that the serene woods may hide secrets far more unsettling than any daytime conversation.

Last Updated: August 09, 2025 at 20:59