cinema history class: the innocents (1961)

The session: Creepy Kids!
Four weeks of films featuring creepy kids. Or is it creepy films about kids?

As always, there may be spoilers here. And the trailer may be NSFW and/or NSFL.

Week 1: The Innocents (1961)
Directed by Jack Clayton

My Level of Prior Knowledge
Never heard of it.

Plot:
A governess takes a job caring for two children on a remote estate. But things turn sideways. Is the house haunted? Are the kids haunted?

Reaction and Other Folderol:
The Innocents is one of those rare movies that manages to unsettle on multiple levels, and watching it feels a bit like stepping into a dream where every shadow might have a deeper meaning. Its haunting atmosphere instantly reminded me of The Woman in Black, not just for the ghostly elements but for the imagery. The presence of overt sexual undertones in The Innocents sets it apart—unlike the chilly restraint in The Woman in Black, Clayton’s film constantly hints at forbidden desires and tangled emotions beneath its gothic surface.

There’s also a strong Carnival of Souls vibe in the way the movie uses ambiguity and atmosphere. Instead of relying on cheap scares, it draws out long stretches of discomfort, where faces dominate the frame and silence feels loaded with meaning. Deborah Kerr’s performance is key here—all those tight close-ups of her fearful, searching expressions ramp up the eeriness. There’s something hypnotic and deeply creepy about her uncertainty, and those moments when you see her face fill with terror communicate so much more than any scream or jump-scare could ever do.

One of the film’s greatest strengths is how it refuses to provide any easy answers. Is the governess losing her grip on reality, or are genuine supernatural forces at play? This question does get resolved—or at least I think it does. But it’s in that ambiguity that the movie finds real power. The final scenes with little boy stand out as the most disturbing—I realized that he was speaking as though possessed of adult logic, engaging in arguments and debates that feel too mature for his age. I don’t recall if he was doing that earlier in the film. But this manner multiplies the discomfort, making it hard to pin down whether the horror is coming from ghosts or psychological breakdowns.

All of these elements create a movie that doesn’t let go of the viewer’s mind—even days after watching, fragments return in flashes: a child’s adult speech, Kerr’s haunted eyes, the suggestion that reality itself might be shifting. If The Innocents feels deeply creepy, it’s because it knows the most powerful hauntings don’t come from what’s seen, but from what’s left unseen and unresolved.