THE STORY – Matt Hagen’s meteoric rise from Gotham street kid to Hollywood leading man is tragically cut short when a local crime boss’s actions leave him horribly disfigured. Abandoned by his team and with nothing left, Matt seeks out a cutting-edge treatment that miraculously returns him to his former self… but also unexpectedly affects his grip on reality, spiraling him down a destructive path of all-consuming revenge.
THE CAST – Tom Rhys Harries, Naomi Ackie, David Dencik, Max Minghella & Eddie Marsan
THE TEAM – Tom Watkins (Director) & Mike Flanagan (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 116 Minutes
As a young child, “Feat of Clay,” the Clayface-centric episodes of “Batman: The Animated Series,” haunted me. It’s a tragic backstory done right for one of the caped crusader’s most underrated villains. It’s a shame that a literal clay creature that can mold himself into anyone or anything has been relegated to the bench behind countless iterations of the Joker, Penguin, and even Mr. Freeze. So it makes sense that comic aficionado and DC Studios co-CEO James Gunn saw an opportunity to breathe life into the underappreciated antagonist.
What makes this even better is bringing in one of horror’s most in-demand creatives, Mike Flanagan, to pen what should be DC’s first live-action foray into body horror. On paper, “Clayface” has plenty to be a solid capstone to DC’s calendar year, yet it’s also another clear example of this studio’s vision being nothing more than an intriguing premise. Little is specified about when “Clayface” takes place in the grand scheme of things, as its isolated nature plays far better into what Watkins is building here. The film follows Tom Rhys Harries’ Matt Hagan, a thespian from Gotham’s inner city whose talent, and, most importantly, good looks, are the golden ticket that catapults him to becoming one of Hollywood’s biggest rising stars.
Academy Award nominations, awkward line readings to get a buzzy clip on late-night appearances, and, most importantly, adoration from gorgeous people at a nightclub flocking for you are all in the cards for someone like Matt. The problem is, for Matt, one of the women who gravitated towards his orbit is tied to one of Gotham’s most violent gangsters. Matt’s mistake costs him his looks in a horrific act of retribution, his reputation, his wealth, and, most importantly, his career, the foundation of his life. He’s abandoned all hope until he learns of Naomi Ackie’s Dr. Caitlyn Corr’s highly controversial nanocell work, which gives Matt hope of reversing the damage to his face. Of course, in typical film fashion, one must always be careful what they wish for. Matt’s desire for normalcy is the poison that sets him on a globby path toward self-annihilation, and it’s another generic outing for a DC Comics feature.
“Clayface” wants you to believe this James Gunn era of DC filmmaking has the variety to sustain a creative powerhouse franchise. Still, its body-horror sheen is just a cheap coating on another anti-hero narrative that devolves into the typical comic book film we’ve seen countless times before. If anything, James Watkins’ latest feels more like one of the Spider-Man-less Sony films than an inspired horror film, lacking the morbid momentum that would win over long-time fans. The direction of “Clayface” is spiritless, neutering Flanagan’s occasionally freakish nature in his already tepid screenplay. The grotesque moments that make one want to churn are quite tame, except for a sequence where Matt cuts his droopy eyelids, which has been revealed throughout the film’s promotional run.
Rhys Harries is pretty solid in what is meant to be his breakthrough performance, but it’s not enough to overcome how bland Matt is as a protagonist in this compared to his animated depiction. Even Ackie, a performer who has more than proven she is one of the more exciting actors working today, is wasted as Caitlyn is relegated to spouting scientific exposition about Matt’s mutations or being the shoehorned love interest, leaving Max Minghella kicking dust. There are moments when “Clayface” starts to become something interesting, mainly a voyeuristic moment where Caitlyn’s evaluation of Matt’s sleep cycle turns into something equal parts terrifying and inadvertently erotic. It’s all but brief before the film morphs itself back into an uninteresting revenge thriller that isn’t all grotesque as it plays itself up to be. Some clever editing tricks appear whenever Matt’s evolving bodily control leads to his rapid transformations. The make-up work is impressive at times, but the dependence on visual effects occasionally waters down the impressive practicality on display. If Flanagan had stepped in over Watkins, “Clayface” could’ve had far more visual flair or commitment to its central premise, but that didn’t happen, and what we’re left with is a missed opportunity.
