Let’s channel some Paul Lynde right now


I don’t know what’s wrong with these kids today! 

Well, I watched the movie Wake Wood over the weekend and yes, there was a kid involved in this madness:



This movie came us from the Irish Film Board and Hammer films (huzzah!) and it stars Timothy SpallEva BirthistleElla Connolly and Aidan Gillen.  Yeah, do you recognize any of those names?  If you’ve seen the Harry Potter movies you’ve seen Timothy Spall as the misbegotten Peter Pettigrew.  He’s a little less ratty here as he does his best to channel Christopher Lee’s Lord Summersile, but you know there’s no Chris Lee but Chris Lee.  I’m not being fair though to Spall, though, he’s just the right amount of unctuous for this role.


So anyway, Louise and Patrick suffer the loss of their only child, Alice, to a vicious dog attack (although Patrick’s a vet and you’d think that a child of her age would be sensitive to reading a dog’s vibe, but hey, that doesn’t move the plot along).  The couple decides to relocate to Wake Wood, one of those quintessential Irish tiny villages, but it’s obvious that their relationship is suffering.  Through a series of events, it becomes clear that Wake Wood is one of those Irish Villages Where Goofy Mystic Shit Will Happen and Patrick and Louise learn that they can resurrect their daughter for three days, so long as:

  1. Her death was less than one year ago
  2.  Patrick and Louise promise to tie themselves to the village for the rest of their lives
  3. Re-animated Alice doesn’t stray beyond the wind turbines
  4. They get a fresh corpse — not Alice’s, they need a host corpse.  To be a pod.  Or a cocoon.

Yeah, re-animating children, that’s always a great idea in a horror movie.  Because what could possibly go wrong?  What would Fred Gwynne say?



“Look, I know that y’all thought I was dead before I made this movie, but dammit, I told you sometimes dead is better!”


Of course it all goes horribly wrong, and I’m not going to give away plot points, but there’s something creepy about a cute little wide-eyed brunette girl as she gleefully rips out someone’s stomach.  Or heart.  It was hard to tell, and those crazy Irish have all their parts in different places anyway.  Don’t they?  Oh, wait, I’m thinking Predators.

I would say more about creepy kids in creepy movies but then it would appear that I don’t like kids.  And that’s not true; I love kids.  They taste like chicken.


About The Knitting Cinephile

I'm obsessed with good yarn, bad movies, and the Hubster.
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