Ah, so if a set of sub or unknown characters to the general public (relatively speaking) can make it to the big screen, DC still seems to have the advantage (see Joker, The Suicide Squad, Peacemaker, and The Penguin TV series) over Marvel (Venom, Morbius, Madame Web, Eternals, and Kraven the Hunter). Clayface seems to have joined this batch for DC’s end with its icky and, dare we say, squishy concept despite a very familiar tale at its very core.
You’ve seen the narrative before: a man broken to his end by some tragic incident that drives his desire and need to become something more, backed by a brave, innocent gal who sees something in him (if not others). The Phantom Of The Opera, Darkman, and Doctor Strange, for instance, would like to have a word. The dissonance amplifies itself, as there’s little character work for Matt Hagen (played by Tom Rhys Harries) beyond being a big-name actor who ends up getting a cosmetic makeover with a switchblade for spending a night with a crime lord’s girlfriend. What is his reasoning for acting? What is his purpose for being in front of the camera? All these questions become fatuous when director James Watkins and screenwriter Mike Flanagan have to beguile audiences with unnerving facial distortions and moments that seem ripped from the Saw films.
Once the film shifts away from a pretty mundane first act that spirals the protagonist’s life out of control, things start to get more interesting. Yes, a wave of hope appears in the medical experiments of Dr. Caitlyn Corr (Naomi Ackie), who’s working on nanobots and A.I. to repair Mr. Hagen’s tissue and skin. However, once infused, he starts having episodes of face melting and monstrous moments in public (including a somewhat disturbing scene of using scissors on his eyelids on a shaky plane!), while trying to seek revenge on the ones who killed his aspiring movie career. In a Malignant-stylized way, Matt learns he can take the shape of others, and his body becomes an elastic weapon of sorts, stretching to insane degrees and being able to take direct punches like a cushion. It’s an off-putting, well-made, terrifying atmosphere, with our protagonist’s new abilities taking center stage.
Harries has a great physical malleability here, and works well with Ackie’s emphatic performance as they navigate this journey of possibility and danger. Had the script made the former’s character more riveting, or the themes less ostensible, we might’ve been in for a fun Halloween horror classic.
As it stands, Clayface has some feasibility thanks to reveling in its nasty concepts, and it’s something for DC to bring a tale that can stand in isolation (unlike Supergirl earlier this year).
