Directed By James Watkins
Starring – Tom Rhys Harries, Naomi Ackie, Max Minghella
The Plot – Rising Hollywood star Matt Hagen (Harries) descends into a horrifying revenge-filled monster when scientific ambition strips him of his identity and humanity.
Rated R for strong bloody violence, gore, adult language, some nudity and brief drug use.
POSITIVES
Regardless of the lukewarm reception typically associated with antagonist-driven narratives such as ‘Morbius’ or ‘Kraven The Hunter’, there’s a level of creative liberties and rating designations that handicapped their capability of finding an entertained audience, and while ‘Clayface’ doesn’t completely elevate itself ahead of the pack, it does present a lack of limitations with an injected R-rating to the integrity of the material, allowing Watkins and the production ample opportunity to flesh out the body horrors of Matt’s dreaded disposition. Between the vulgarity of the violent imagery, with some creatively disgusting kills that Freddy Krueger himself would be jealous of, as well a rich tapestry of practical and special effects designs, that effortlessly emulate both the elasticity and fluidity of Matt’s ever-changing bodily shape, the film represents an ambitious landmark for James Gunn’s newly orchestrated helming of the D.E.C.U, where every square inch of the actor-turned-antagonist’s vitriolic vengeance emphasizes the maturity in the material that allows it to stand apart from anything currently or previously within the Gotham landscape, specifically once Matt reaches the magnitude of his contortive powers, where the film and its protagonist, starts to evoke the kind of unavoidable fun in such a silly and surreal concept. For most of D.C’s depicted antagonists to this point, they either have an imposing size or generated power stemming from some otherworld relic, that makes them such a devastating force of nature to combat superhuman strength in superheroes, but Matt’s adaptability and instantaneous healing are not only illustrated with a terrifying awkwardness that conjured more than a few laughs in the extent of my engagement, but also conveys how difficult that it would be for the characters in this movie, or any caped crusader that he eventually comes into contact with, to overcome and possibly destroy, and while I’m admittedly mixed on Tom Rhys Harries’ versatile portrayal, I feel like this film leaves plenty of unexplored abilities to render some chaotic fun on a grand scope and scale of sequences, such as the movie’s single greatest moment involving Matt’s confrontation in a nightclub with the very men who scarred him. It’s in that distinct moment of chaotic franticness where the film finally feels like it has a hold of its promised potential, evoking an atmospherically campy and visually manipulative game of identity that is made complex with some subtly enacted editing transitions allowing Matt to float like the wind amongst an overcrowded dance floor, all made toxically tasteful by the cold and enigmatic stares of Harries looking directly into the lens, in order to immerse us in the urgency and vulnerability of the objects of his eyes. After a stuffily insignificant first half, Harries does eventually find merit in the performance once he leans hard into the moral ambiguity of the character, outlining a necessary edginess and confrontational confidence that subtly weaponizes the charismatic presence of his character’s past life on-screen, cementing just enough memorability to the anger and desperate depression of the character’s conflict, in order to ready an emotional evolution that feels painstakingly evident in the conviction that Harries lends to portrayal. Aside from such a lethal lead asserting dominance over almost the entirety of scenes, Naomi Ackie and Max Minghella both turn in attention-stealing radiance to their respectively steady turns, with the former bestowing a depth and admirable tranquility to the morality of her character, which enacts a scintillating and simmering elemental chemistry between her and Harries, and the latter bringing a stylized kind of retro flair to an otherwise thanklessly standard supporting character, featuring his own kind of distinctly determined personality that keeps him from fading into the background, despite being an obvious third wheel to the delicious dynamic transpiring instinctually between Harries and Ackie. When these three share the screen together while constructing a love triangle that gives the movie some semblance of stakes, the storytelling is at its most compelling, especially during one such sleep study sequence that feels like it was lifted directly out of an erotic thriller, in order to illustrate the physical attraction that Ackie’s Dr. Caitlyn Corr has for Matt, long after his devilish good looks have faded away, and considering so much of the storytelling resorts to this disappointingly conventionalized outline, with nothing in the way of surprising twists or altered paths, this love triangle is definitely the individualized arc that gives the movie the much-required heart needed to contextualize the tragedies of these characters, leading to a lasting impression of a final image that strangely and surreally rivals that of last year’s ‘Together’, on poetic bizarreness alone.
NEGATIVES
As undeniably superior as this movie is to Sony’s brand of antagonist-driven narratives before it, it still feels like a noticeable disappointment to James Gunn’s unraveled universe, where a weakly pedestrian screenplay, improper character morality, and absence of directorial style and personality render it a bit of a lifeless disappointment, especially considering the level of talent assembled for the ride. If you didn’t know before, acclaimed horror director Mike Flanagan is responsible for this screenplay, and before you go pinning complete blame on him for overly muddy plot mechanics involving the mechanics of Matt’s transformational abilities, or the single dullest portrayal of Gotham City ever put to film, consider that the studio hired Hossein Amini to touch up Flanagan’s original screenplay, and the detractive evidence presents itself during an overly rushed and sloppy opening act that fails to take its time articulating who Matt is away from the wealth and privilege of the silver screen, making it increasingly difficult to care about his tragic downfall, let alone his terrifying transformation. While I understand that Flanagan’s intention is to get to the good stuff involving body horror, as quickly as possible, it comes at the compromise of a seemingly montaged set-up that robs the audience of opportunity to live within and grow with these characters, an unfortunate aspect made glaring with ‘Clayface’ continuing the tradition of its advertised villain being closer to an antihero rather than an antagonist. To be fair, Matt does become a legitimate villain during the final ten minutes of the movie, where a big reveal makes his morality unmistakable at that point, but for the other 90 minutes of the narrative, he’s a good guy who basically made some arrogant decisions along the way, and lived to pay for it, and while that may line up accordingly for some seeking an origins story, for me personally, the allowance of an aforementioned R-rating could’ve crafted something darker and more devastating to correspond with Matt’s immediate thirst for vengeance, without the need for a secondary antagonist of a mob leader, who makes ‘Supergirl’s’ antagonist feel three-dimensionally complex by comparison. Aside from this mob boss being every tired trope or cliche that you’ve learned from eighty years of cinema before it, there’s nothing about him powerfully or profoundly that feels like even the mistakable equal of Matt’s increasing ferocity, and the movie constantly wastes its momentum whenever the script deviates back to it, leaving a nothingburger of a placeholder to take the extensive magnitude of Matt’s vengeance, with an emotional impact of a resolution so flatly registered that it feels like an afterthought before it even transpires. As for the intended setting of Gotham, while visually it might illustrate the gritty darkness of its dangerously desolate streets, the reality is that there’s nothing to its distinguishing to make it feel like an influential place that centers this story, especially with no tie-in to other characters or delivered dialogue in passing, and while I wasn’t exactly looking for Batman to be a part of this film, I was looking for some semblance of definitional influence of its capture, but it becomes another in the faded ambitions of an audience who see the film that they expect quickly go up in smoke. The script isn’t responsible for every problem with the film, however, as James Watkins’ bland and bemusing direction lends itself to jarring tonal shifts and messy plotting that finds the film eventually collapsing under its own contemplative weight of trying to be a gruesome body horror, romantic tragedy, and standard superhero vengeance thriller under one umbrella, without any kind of fanciful filmmaking to breed atmospheric ambiance over such a perfunctory presentation. Everything from Watkins’ inconsistent pacing, to his pull-aways during death-depicted imagery, to even his character framing meanders on the muddled side of safe and effortless cinematics, leaving much to be desired about a presentation that should’ve stood out uniquely on its own, but instead abides by the unfortunate aspects of documentational monotony, with the consistency of so many of Matt’s most tragic moments tonally surmising this unintentional humor that underscored the dramatics entailed, in turn leaving his direction feeling overwhelmed by the magnitude of the property before him.
OVERALL
‘Clayface’ is a grisly grotesque and adult-emphasized brand of seat-squirming body-horror that frustratingly leaves its character arcs and thematic impulses pursued with the kind of skin deep dissection that meanderingly musters a missed opportunity for James Gunn’s ever-expanding cinematic universe. For D.C, it’s an ambitious undertaking outside of their conventional comfort zone, realized with a rich combination of practicality and special effects seamlessly bringing to life an inescapable slice-of-life nightmare that molds a new face for antagonist-driven origin stories.
My Grade: 6.2 or C