Clayface review – A superhero spinoff that memorably breaks the mould

It’s a truth felt more than acknowledged that the best, most standout, superhero movies transplant their costumes and special powers to other genres. Captain America: Winter Soldier flung its shield in an espionage thriller setting, The Guardians of the Galaxy headed off into space opera territory, and the best takes on Batman have hunkered down in crime noir.

Comic vigilante Batman is significant because yet another member of the Caped Crusader’s Rogues Gallery has just received their own on-screen spinoff. Joining Joker, Harley Quinn, and Penguin, is Clayface. The hook here is that this first-time live-action depiction of the grotesque shapeshifter is pure R-rated body horror – brought to audiences by genre veterans James Watkins (Eden Lake, The Woman in Black, Speak No Evil), who is on directing duties, and Mike Flanagan (Hush, Doctor Sleep, The Haunting of Hill House, The Fall of the House of Usher), who co-scripted the film with Oscar-nominated Hossein Amini. Far from a pointless cash grab, the result is thematically meaty, smartly made and frequently stomach turning – with the added benefit that it can be digested whether you’re a DC Comics appreciator or not. The film is entirely free of Dark Knight mentions.

Drawing considerable influence from Batman: The Animated Series episodes Feat of Clay: Part 1 and 2, Clayface centres on charismatic actor Matt Hagen (Tom Rhys Harries) whose star is on the rise. Matt has multiple high-profile roles lined up, he’s fresh off an Oscar nomination, but it all comes crashing down when he crosses Gotham City crime boss Markos Szabo (David Dencik). Szabo and his goons disfigure pretty boy Matt, and with the local justice system in the mob’s pocket, Matt finds himself with literally nothing, hiding masked in the slum that he once used his talent to crawl out of. Life destroyed, he convinces also-down-on-her-luck scientist Dr. Caitlyn Corr (Naomi Ackie) to test her experimental tissue restoration treatment on him. It works, with one terrifying caveat – Matt’s flesh is no longer stable, transforming to reflect his despair, fear, and rage at everyone who wronged him.

There’s a lot that works about Clayface actually, which is probably best described as a comic-born cousin to Cronenberg’s The Fly, with a considerably dose of Dorian Gray. Rhys Harries and Ackie do excellent work placing sympathetic figures at the centre of this horror tragedy meets revenge tale, which takes place against the backdrop of a Gotham City that appreciably sits outside of time. As an example, characters carry modern mobile phones but go clubbing in late 70s/early 80s fashion, while decayed urban environments call to mind New York City seen in films like Taxi Driver and Death Wish.

Meanwhile, the special effects avoid CGI bombast for the most part. Instead, Watkins’ movie plays more in the arena of nightmare, with blink-and-you miss-it facial morphs, and, conversely, long unbroken shots of skin being sliced open or off. Highlights in this regard include a night club scene where Matt masquerades as multiple characters frame-on-frame, and a sequence where our protagonist tries to reopen his suddenly sealed eyelids with manicure scissors in a middle of a turbulent flight.

So, yes, this is your warning that Clayface is not for the faint of heart. As far as body horror goes, it runs the gamut between surreally unsettling and extremely gruesome. If you coped with The Substance, or, more recently, Resident Evil, you should be fine, though.

Clayface could have been skin-deep and soulless, trading on gory thrills alone, but even here the movie surprises. Matt’s psychology is laid bare, specifically his performance motivations, while also featuring are Me Too smear campaigns, the physiological impact of emotional trauma, and the societal privileges afforded by beauty. This said, it’s dangerous to oversell the film on the thematic front, because it doesn’t dissect the points it initially prods at, and the narrative plays out predictably. Clayface has to end a certain way, and that means, after around 90 minutes of relatability, Matt suddenly crosses a line (off-screen) in terms of credible character behaviour, and becomes the villainous “other.” And that’s disappointing.

Still, for viewers who aren’t squeamish, there’s enough to recommend about Clayface. It feels like a film that will benefit from multiple rewatches to catch all its easter eggs and fully appreciate the intelligence of its creative choices. Flawed but memorable, and cinematic.

Clayface released in cinemas on 23 October.