Mislaid Eggs: a review of The Midwich Cuckoos

The Midwich Cuckoos

Created by David Farr

Based on The Midwich Cuckoos by John Wyndham

Composer Hannah Peel

Production

Executive producers Neil Blair, Robert Cheek, David Farr, Ruth Kenley-Letts, Marc Samuelson, Rick Senat, Alice Troughton

Producer Pat Karam

Production companies Snowed-In Productions, DayOut Productions, Route 24,

Original network Sky Max

Keeley Hawes as Dr. Susannah Zellaby

Max Beesley as DCI Paul Haynes

Aisling Loftus as Zoë Moran

Ukweli Roach as Sam Clyde

Synnøve Karlsen as Cassie Stone

Samuel West as Bernard Westcott[6]

Lara Rossi as Jodie Blake

Indica Watson as Evie Stone

Hannah Tointon as Rachel Saunders

Alex Brock as John Lancaster

Adiel Magaji as Nathan Blake

Kimia Lamour as Olive Randall

The Midwich Cuckoos (once filmed as Village of the Damned) is probably John Wyndham’s second most famous novel, behind only Day of the Triffids. It’s very creepy, with a sort of low-level intensity that one sees in Neil Gaiman’s work. In fact, as I watched the Sky television adaptation this week, I wondered how much the original work informed Gaiman’s “A Game of You” story arc in his Sandman series. The story lines are utterly different, but the theme and tone are hauntingly similar.

This version has some significant changes; the kids appear a lot more normal, aside from facial expressions and odd behavior. They didn’t have to comb Britain looking for FLKs—just for kids that could act in un-childlike manners. The perspectives are as much from the mothers as from the males in the series, reflecting the social changes between 1957 and now.

The plot line is this; in the small town of Midwich, there is a power blackout. After a while, the lights come on, and stay on. All the inhabitants then simultaneously swoon, and are out for a period of some 18 hours. When they wake up, they feel normal and seemingly unaffected. But in fairly short order, it becomes apparent that every woman of child-bearing age has become pregnant. Quite a few of the women understandably rush to the local hospital to get abortions, but once there, find they can’t go through with it. Eventually, they all give birth, to children who resemble them but not any of the men of the village. They seem normal at first.

But they are growing at a phenomenal rate, and after 18 months or so, they all appear to be about seven years old. Further, nobody leaves the village, whether they would like to or not. The authorities are closely monitoring this beset little place, and as the story progresses, it becomes known that they have encountered this phenomenon before—and it did not go well.

The children have powers, and eventually are referred to as “The Hive.” They can share thoughts and emotions, and have telekinesis and the ability to force others to their will. They appear, at first, to be emotionally and morally vacant, and there’s very little to suggest any form of individual autonomy amongst the group. That changes as the story progresses.

For most of the kids, all they have to do is remain expressionless and stand and move in an oddly stilted manner. The five that are the focus of the series’ directors do an outstanding job of being different and weirdly dark. The adults are both credible and sometimes compelling in their efforts to come to grips with this strange flock of birds in their nest.

The series stays low-key throughout, allowing a slow sense of dread to build. Revelations add both to the mystery and the possible capabilities of the hive. The challenge of the hive to the social and ethical mores of both the village and the nation as a whole add to the deepening sense that it’s not going to work out well in the end.

Watch for it to come to an American streaming service soon.