REVIEW: DVD Release: Who Can Kill A Child

Film: Who Can Kill A Child
Year of production: 1976
UK Release date: 23rd May 2011
Distributor: Eureka!
Certificate: 18
Running time: 111 mins
Director: Narciso Ibáñez Serrador
Starring: Lewis Fiander, Prunella Ransome, Antonio Iranzo, Miguel Narros, María Luisa Arias
Genre: Horror/Mystery/Thriller
Format: DVD
Country of Production: Spain
Language: English/Spanish/German

Review by: Paul Kelly

Spanish horror is currently experiencing something of a golden age, with the recent international success of films such as the [REC] series and The Orphanage. The 1970s saw a similar boom period for the genre in Spain, matching the current rate of production, if not the worldwide acclaim of filmmakers such as Guillermo del Toro. From this period in Spanish cinema comes Who Can Kill A Child (no question mark according to this release’s cover), which is now available for the first time in the UK on DVD.

Who Can Kill A Child begins with grainy black-and-white footage which documents the impact of the various conflicts of the 20th century, from World War II through the Korean War to the Vietnam War, focusing particularly on the number of children killed or left in the clutches of famine and disease as a result of each. From this footage we are taken to a sunny beach on the Spanish holiday resort of Benavis, where an idyllic afternoon at the seaside is spoiled when a woman's body washes up on shore. All of this is unbeknownst to Tom and Evelyn (Fiander and Ransome), a well to do English couple who are spending the night in the town before hiring a boat to take them to the remote island of Almanzora.

When the couple arrive on the island, they are greeted by a group of children frolicking in the water on what seems like a typical lazy island morning. When the couple start to realise the town is deserted, Tom has to reassure Evelyn that everything is alright. His opinion soon changes when he witnesses an old man beaten to death with his own walking stick by a little girl, and it becomes clear that there is something very wrong with the children of Almanzora. Tom must now escape the island and its inhabitants and protect his pregnant wife at any cost…


Creepy children have been a staple of horror movies for many moons, from the influential Village Of The Damned to The Omen (released in the same year as Who Can Kill A Child). What makes Serrador's little terrors stand out is that they do not have any supernatural powers; their threat comes from their strength in numbers and the fact that, no matter what the situation, most adults will struggle to harm a child. That and the fact that they clearly weren't given the talk about playing with sharp objects. As far as psychotic children go, these are some of the most effectively creepy ever imagined. What makes them work is that they say very little, they carry out their business not with a growl or in a trance, but with a giggle and a mischievous smile on their faces. They behave, in short, like children, and it is the juxtaposition between the appearance of the children and their actions which leads to most of the film's memorable moments. These include a piñata unlike any you're likely to see at a child's birthday party, and a surprise towards the end that ranks amongst the most ingeniously twisted of all time.

The horror is helped along nicely by Waldo de los Rios' subtle and unintrusive soundtrack, which lends ‘70s electric sci-fi stylings only to the moments of greatest tension in the film, building the atmosphere superbly.

While the delaying tactics employed in terms of on screen violence help to carry the film to its well plotted ending, the lack of any real gore until the final act does mean that there aren't quite enough scares along the way, and it is hard not to feel that a more even spread could have made Who Can Kill A Child even more nerve shredding than it already is. Clearly, Serrador wanted to avoid making his film farcical, as there is a statement about the way our world is heading and the lack of regard for children in society at the heart of it, and this comes across well. Like most aspects of the film, it is not driven home with a sledgehammer but left to gently wash over the viewer, having been made abundantly clear by the effective if overly long opening montage.

In terms of performances, a finer example of 1970s English stiff-upper lip acting could scarcely be found than that of the leading duo, and, as a result, it takes some time for them to come across as likeable. However, once the audience is familiarised with Evelyn's constant moaning and Tom's ridiculously positive outlook in the face of obvious peril then eventually they do come across more favourably. Enough to hope for their escape and safe return home rather than death at the hands of the little rascals, at least. They're performances are enough to keep the film interesting, which is commendable in its own way as they are given nearly all of the dialogue. What their relationship, as well as the film as a whole, is lacking is a touch of humour, with Serrador eager to ensure his film did not come off as a black comedy, intentionally or otherwise. All things considered the decision to avoid the comic potential that the film's premise offered proved to be the correct one, making Who Can Kill A Child both intriguing and genuinely chilling.


Who Can Kill A Child may lack the kind of sustained attack on the nerves of many current day Spanish horror titles, but Narciso Ibáñez Serrador provides a well balanced picture which, in its subtlety and refusal to go over the top, leaves a lasting impression when the final credits role.