Don't Deliver Us From Evil (1971) / Who Can Kill a Child? (1976)

Having graduated from the London International Film School in 1996, Barnaby Clay has gone on to make a name for himself as a music video and commercial director (check out the striking “Carousel” [2005] for Ritz Fine Jewellery starring Chloe Sevigny) working for the likes of Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Take That, Gnarls Barkley and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Amongst his music video work, he has also directed the multiple award-winning short film “Finkle’s Odyssey” (2007) and Rockumentary SHOT! The Psycho-Spiritual Mantra of Rock (2016). Never afraid to explore transgressive material, his choice of films we explored seemed rather apt when familiar with the themes of his feature debut The Seeding; a film that still sticks in my head from London’s Fright Fest back in August 2023.
Along with The Adams Family’s Where the Devil Roams, The Seeding was such a visceral experience on the big screen. Especially that opening! What a hook.
Some are in the camp of taking their time with a movie while others may only have a ten-minute grace period; they’re in their seat and ready for it. Personally, I like a film which starts with something up front. With The Seeding, funnily enough, the opener was not in the original script but shot five months into the edit. Originally it was a more traditional opening but due to the budget, I had to cut out some initial backstory. Without spoiling anything, that image just came to me and so I called a couple of friends with young kids… and there we have it.
With indie filmmaking, you have to be that way. I wasn’t working with a studio so you think on your feet a little bit more; it gives you a little bit of freedom and flexibility to pivot to something else. Having some friends around who are artistic and into the idea of casting their child as a little cannibalistic baby was a bonus.
I’m starting to notice the more and more I’m doing these interviews, that the choices can often be reflective of who the artist is or (at least) how the DNA of the films they tend to choose comes through in their own art. So, I wasn’t that surprised after watching The Seeding, that you would have chosen these films.
[Laughs] When you originally asked me to do this, I’m such a cinephile that I just couldn’t help myself. I had at least 20 different options that I wanted to talk about! It’s really hard. So, I ultimately went for these because they are related to The Seeding, although, interestingly enough, I hadn’t seen either of these choices until after completing my film.
Lost in the canyon. Left: Barnaby Clay. Right: Filming on location for THE SEEDING (2023) with lead actor Scott Haze.
So you have hindsight on this, at least.
Yeah. You make a movie and if it’s got “creepy kids” in people are like, “Oh, yeah, you got to see that one, you have to watch this.” Inevitably, The Seeding isn't like either of them, but it’s all in there. I think when you talk about the DNA of these things, both Don’t Deliver Us From Evil and Who Can Kill a Child? are very representative of a type of film coming out of Europe during that period. And those types of films are films that I’ve always kind of adored and been very much into. So, whether it’s from these two specific films or other films within that world, it’s in the marrow and it seeps into my outlook, my vision, and, therefore, whatever I’m writing... whatever I’m doing when presenting it.
As well as the Straw Dogs moment, Don’t Deliver US From Evil also reminded me of The Spirit of the Beehive and Cria Cuervos (Raise Ravens) — those raw and visceral elements inherent in European cinema. There is something about this period that seems to especially seep into the celluloid.
I think it’s also that ’70s cinema was at this apex. Whether in Europe or the US, it was about elevating the craft; that it had meaning and depth to it. The art of it still mattered. Maybe it’s somewhat applicable to something going on in the world at that time. I always go back to that period because of how well-made these films were, whether glossy or exploitation. In my opinion, these two films fall into both these categories.
After the Hays code was abolished in the US, they pushed genre cinema playing with horror and these demon child movies. Of course, these two rest outside of that and are very powerful, heavy-hitting films. Immediately your back is up with the title of Who Can Kill a Child? How good is this film really going to be? It has subtext but it’s also brutally real, especially in the opening montage.
Oh, God… and that’s just the thing, you’ve got to get through that before you get into the film. I rewatched it last night because I hadn’t seen it for a while and it started with the newsreel montage and it’s brutal. Absolutely horrific. Whether it’s entirely unnecessary, I don’t know… the director Chicho Ibáñez Serrador is really pushing it out there and trying to make a point, I guess.
He regretted it after, hence the other cuts.
I feel like the film could survive without it. But it shows he was taking this subject matter really seriously. Filmmakers at that time and from certain parts of Europe wanted to prove a point: “Fuck all that, we’re going to put this montage right in your face.” It goes back to what I was saying before... but my opening to The Seeding has nothing on this. It’s just full-on real. Having a child myself, the film is all the more powerful as it illustrates how all the misery that adults put each other through... well... it is the children who are ultimately the innocent victims. We’ve seen it all again in Israel and Palestine. It’s just barbaric. This is what’s happening, and children are always the unfortunate collateral damage.
Island of the damned. Lewis Fiander and Prunella Ransome in Narciso Ibáñez Serrador's WHO CAN KILL A CHILD (1976).
Who Can Kill a Child?, in particular, is such a potent film and will always have an impact. I know there has been a remake already — Come Out and Play (2012) — but even if they did another version or something similar the commentary would still be relevant as it deals with such huge themes we are unable to escape from.
The only thing I feel is when you get an opening as powerful as in that film it has so much more to achieve because the opening is so real. It’s this montage and reportage that resembles newsreel footage and then you go straight into the film which is so brilliantly crafted. It’s limited by its budget and so I feel as though putting that opening footage up front does expose some of the flaws later on, therefore there would have been this pressure of having to make such a perfect film with no room for exploitative elements for it to succeed. With this in mind, you expect a more trashy piece of Spanish cinema but you quickly realise there is a sentiment and incredible quality to it.
“... the film is all the more
powerful as it illustrates how all
the misery that adults put each other
through it is the children who are
ultimately the innocent victims.”
— Barnaby Clay
It’s such a thoughtful film.
Absolutely. It’s a slow burn but then it kind of kicks in when they get to the island. Then the story really begins. I was watching the film and it also reminded me of Werner Herzog’s short film La Soufrière put out the following year.
That travelogue quality to it.
And the same thing with this empty island. There’s nothing that beautiful; these white houses, all empty with the same eerie vibe. I was also reminded of Hitchcock's The Birds as it builds the tension with these glimpses of the children. It’s funny because they’re not like “evil children” — they could be in a milk commercial, running around laughing — but everything just ramps up with the acting, including the final act and that twist, which is so fucking good. By the end, you realise how solid Serrador’s film is.

Face off. If you make it to the end in WHO CAN KILL A CHILD?
I’m still trying to get my head around the fact he created Dusty Bin.
Oh... really? [Laughs]
Well, kind of… he created the original syndicated gameshow from our childhood, Un, dos, tres... responda otra vez, (3-2-1 ), which had different mascots including a boot and a pumpkin. Such a contrast to killer kids!
The only other film I have seen of his is The House That Screamed (1969) set in a female boarding school which has a Suspiria-like atmosphere to it.
On my watch list! The atmosphere in Spanish cinema is so unique; the repression and everything that carried over from the fallout of the Franco-era; all these important parts of history the likes of Guillermo del Toro still tap into. Although it’s a French film, Don’t Deliver Us From Evil seems to capture a similar vibe that crosses over with Spanish cinema of the period.
Obviously, Deliver US from Evil has this very strong theme surrounding Catholicism, which you see in Spain — especially with The Spirit of the Beehive and Cria Cuervos you mentioned earlier — both of which star a young Ana Torrent. Interestingly she awarded the best actress prize to Kate Lyn Sheil for The Seeding at the Sitges Film Festival. I was so psyched; Torrent has to be one of the greatest child actresses of all time.
The pain in Spain. Left: Ana Torrent in THE SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE (1973). Right: Torrent in RAISE RAVENS (1976).
Without a doubt.
Again, those films were very much rooted in the politics of that period. It’s that intersection again, with Bunuel also pushing things around this time. There is a lot to draw from, especially with all the fascism and fallout of having such ruthless leaders in power.
They are both nihilistic films, although Don’t Deliver Us From Evil is more hyper-focussed on the two girls. It reminded me of Peter Jackson’s Heavenly Creatures (1994) before I realised Joël Séria's film was also based on New Zealand’s 1954 Parker–Hulme murder case.
That’s right. Looking at Don’t Deliver Us From Evil alongside Who Can Kill a Child? they are quite different films in a way. I feel as though the latter is very much a genre film with commentary, whereas the former has elements of that but it’s really a “French” film.

Bedtime reading. Catherine Wagener and Jeanne Goupil star in Joël Séria's DON'T DELIVER US FROM EVIL (1971).
It carries that inherent French Extremity.
Yeah, it’s really rooted in that. You can tell that Séria never did anything again remotely within that genre, he just went off and directed comedies. He also ended up marrying Jeanne Goupil who plays Anne.
Wow. There we go. That’s interesting when that happens, especially when looking at the male gaze. This is so full on for its time… the field incident, in particular.
It’s very uncomfortable. Although Catherine Wagener looked about 15, she was 18 or 19 at the time of filming. In fact, aside from all of that, it was a film famously banned in France for its blasphemy, which made it so left field. With all of that in mind, I guess you could do another companion piece with Ken Russell’s The Devils, also from 1971.
Oh, a double bill of controversy.
Banned by the Catholic Church. I love it. Don’t Deliver US From Evil has a different feel to it, but legitimately both excellent films. As alluded to with Heavenly Creatures Séria’s version of events is also about two young girls in their own world but not as fantastical as what Jackson applies. However, it still talks about the imagination and how children at that age can get very obsessive. I see it with my son and his best friend. They’re always hanging out and they’re also in their own little world the whole time; a world they’ve created together. As all of that grows and kids get older things start to come into their minds and they become sexually aware and maybe question their sexuality. It can become confusing.
Don’t Deliver Us From Evil plays out like the origins of a serial killer movie with them killing a bird... there is this torment throughout.
The two girls from Don’t Deliver Us From Evil are in their world — a scary one at that — grown out of this obsessive relationship in which they have become disillusioned with their lifestyle and Catholic upbringing; even the whole French bourgeoise upbringing in the countryside. They want something different and Satan is the answer. In this very loose way; that’s just a MacGuffin because what they are really into is each other and this very nihilistic view of “fuck adults”. But, again, it’s all presented beautifully. The acting, music and cinematography elevate it all the more. With Who Can Kill a Child? it’s less about how the children relate to each other and more like there is something going on in the world around them that reminds us of The Midwich Cuckoos that ultimately triggers the children.
They don’t even have to say much. It’s all in their look and emphasises their actions all the
more. With the girls in Don’t Deliver Us From Evil, you are always waiting for the inevitable to happen. How far are they willing to go?
Yeah… and it has a fantastic ending, which is really just beautifully handled — extreme but memorable — it just leaves you with such a fucking wallop, you know. Both films exist within the European world of that period, but at the same time, you are still reminded of more recent films — at least from this century — such as Michael Haneke’s The White Ribbon.
I need to see that.
Oh, my God, it’s fantastic. I mean, he’s really delving into the roots of Nazism in Germany. It’s the film he made after Caché (aka Hidden) and his US remake of Funny Games. He was masterful during the noughties… I’m thinking of The Piano Teacher too.
Sold. The White Ribbon is going on my watchlist.
It’s stunning; beautifully shot in this immaculate black and white photography focussing on this group of children. Again, they’re kind of like evil children, but they’re just regular kids as he delves into that part of history during the eve of the First World War. It’s strong. Powerful. You know, looking at these films and other material, they remind us of these themes, they’re not just Children of the Corn; there is something in there which has an important level of social commentary that ties them all together. Another thing with European cinema is that there are always such great faces onscreen.

Bad experiments. A dark depiction of kids in Michael Haneke's THE WHITE RIBBON (2009).
Such great casting.
I always think of Argento’s Deep Red and the red-headed kid. Super creepy.
These faces are certainly a major part of what makes them so memorable. Another film of this era that springs to mind for me is The Other from 1972. Have you seen that?
No, I haven’t. But I know about it.
It’s a PG and one of those films you would absolutely question the rating on. It’s grim! Again, falls into the demonisation of children. I've written about this in more detail for Fangoria, but why do you think this became so specific to this period?
As we’ve mentioned, I just feel it is tied into the politics of the time. But I think there’s always something inherently scary about a gang of kids who are coming towards you. In Who Can Kill a Child? there is a moment where they meet this father and he appears to be the only adult left on this island. He explains how he was faced with these kids and that he got out his shotgun and couldn’t do it… because… who can kill a child? Basically, their weapon is their youth. Nowadays you may see it but even then, they may be a zombie or something else…
Something obscured like in David Cronenberg’s The Brood, so you don’t quite connect with them being children. Just… there is something warped about them.
Well, you know, with kids you’re trying to figure out what they’re thinking half the time.
And they can be right little bastards. [Laughs]
[Laughs] They can be little bastards. One of the scariest films from our childhood was The Omen. Seeing Damien’s face… that was burnt into my fucking psyche. There he is: this picture of innocence…
Sweet and innocent? Eerily familiar glances from little demons. Left: Catherine Wagener as Lore. Right: Damien Thorn is hard to forget from Richard Donner's THE OMEN (1976).
… but then that underlining evil.
As a child, you’re trying new things. Within that sometimes you’re not just going to try the nice things you’re going to try the dark things as well. Like the opening of Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch with the kids killing the scorpions. Talk about an opening that sets the tone for the whole movie. That opening is just like, “Oh, yeah, that’s it.” You know, that is it. This is the film you’re getting into.
"If they move... kill 'em!" Kids watch a swarm of ants take apart scorpions in Sam Peckinpah's THE WILD BUNCH (1969). A foreshadowing of the film's final massacre.
One of the books I read while making The Seeding was, just by chance, Mishima’s The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea (1963). It’s about these kids who are essentially experimenting in being evil. Led by one of them. They made it into a film back in ’76 with Kris Kristofferson and Sarah Miles. It’s a good film. Interesting. The central story is about a woman (a single parent) who starts a relationship with this manly sailor who her son becomes suspicious of. At the same time, the boy is getting involved in just doing bad stuff. The story is another reminder of how children have the good and the bad inside of them (especially within that time of childhood); all of which may lead to them experimenting with the bad as much as the good.
The central story is a woman who is a single parent who starts a relationship with this manly sailor who (her son becomes) suspicious of. At the same time, (the son is) getting involved in just doing bad stuff.
This highlights once again how in the ’70s people were open to taking on these more intense themes. Because it was happening in Europe, filmmakers in the States started paying attention to other cinema; the American New Wave of filmmakers continuing to be excited about it all. Take the independents too with the likes of Wes Craven turning Bergman's The Virgin Spring (1960) into The Last House on the Left (1972). It’s kind of crazy they are even linked. But they are. This interesting crossover that opens the floodgates to appreciate everything… from arthouse to the trashier exploitation vehicles.
A good place to put these kids to bed. So, if you were to present this double bill of Don’t Deliver Us From Evil and Who Can Kill a Child? where would you screen them?
I’d say because my love of film started so early — and the memories of being there — it would have to be the Scala in London… if it was still around.
Scalarama. Left: The infamous Scala Cinema. Right: The Scala in 1981 with founder Stephen Woolley (right), manager Alan Gregory and programmer Jayne Piling.
Oh, perfect. Did you get to see the recent documentary Scala!!!?
Yeah, it was great. I used to go there from about 15-years-old with Dom Hailstone — every weekend we would go to the all-nighter — until they closed down.s.
Dom also couldn’t help reminiscing about those Scala days when I interviewed him.
What was amazing about watching the documentary was that pretty much every film they showed I had seen at the Scala. It’s interesting that most of these films are all available in 4K and what we were seeing at the time was dogshit. [Laughs] So, the Scala is certainly where I would show these films because, as I say, that’s where it all started for me. It would be a “Killer Kids of Europe” screening in which I would also screen The White Ribbon at the end of it all. You would come out with a full education by the end of the night.
That’s a major reason I have these chats. I love listening to other peoples’ tastes — while being educated myself — as I get a lot out of talking to filmmakers and other creatives. Who doesn’t want to talk about movies?
Yeah, yeah. I love it. I love it. Any opportunity to talk movies, I’m there.
Do you find it easier finding a film tribe in L.A.?
Not really. It’s so sparse and studio-centric. People love movies but it’s a pretty narrow viewpoint of what movies are. We talk about movies such as these… and you’ve lost them immediately.
That’s why The Video Archives podcast is so good. It’s so wonderful to listen to because they want to curate and educate.
Absolutely. Going back to my memories of the Scala, I loved it because I lived it. But that’s because it was all about community with people coming from everywhere to watch films and find things they couldn’t find anywhere else. It all exists in the ether now…
It all exists as a five-by-five pixel-based image on your phone. It’s not experienced.
It’s not experienced. What you had to go through to find it was earnt.

Showtime. The Scala's classic programme.
More memorable.
Yeah, and it filtered out a lot of people because you really had to try. I had friends who were into film, but they weren’t going to the Scala. They only went so far. The people I hung around with loved high-brow art and low-brow trash. That’s what I still get off on. It’s harder nowadays to find those people because you don’t have those spaces anymore. There are some great things out there online though. Do you follow Cathode Cinema on Instagram?
No. I’ve not heard of them, but will certainly look them up!
They curate lineups here in L.A. and, as with what the Scala and other cinemas did back in the day, go all night on a theme. They really go out there and even have chat rooms to participate in. I’ve discovered some real gems on there as they dig deep. It's great to see these communities educating each other.
I love what Matt Landsman is doing at the Video Archives Cinema Club within the Vista Theater, especially going in blind. You could be watching anything on 16 mm or VHS. You’re seeing texture. I mean our generation doesn’t really miss the clunkiness of tapes but most of our cinematic education came through that format.
I haven’t actually done the Video Archives Cinema Club yet. I’ll have to go as I live around the corner from the Vista. Recently they had a midnight screening of Eraserhead which was a fun one for me, especially now being a parent.
It’s a different movie when you become a dad, for sure.
I enjoyed it so much. In terms of cinemas, we are lucky on that front in L.A., it’s just not easy meeting the people.
Well, it's good to have met you, Barney. Great chatting movies with you.
Yeah, it’s been great. You gave me a real head-scratcher as there are so many companion pieces I could have presented!
That’s the thing when you’re so eclectic. All worked out in the end and I’m sure we will have another chat at some point.
Of course!
You can discover more of Barnaby’s work by following him via Instagram @outoftheether. The Seeding is available on a number of streaming platforms including Amazon Prime and Apple TV.
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