What happens when a man loses the one thing that has always opened doors for him? And what if getting it back means losing himself in the process? This is the premise of Clayface, DC Studios’ attempt to tell the origin story of one of Gotham City’s lesser-explored villains.
Directed by James Watkins, the film follows a rising Hollywood star whose life falls apart after a violent attack leaves him disfigured. A desperate attempt to repair the damage gives him a second chance at fame, but the experimental treatment soon unleashes something far more frightening. Yet, for all its promise, it struggles to decide what kind of story it wants to tell.
Matt Hagen (Harries) is a talented, handsome actor whose career is taking off. Having grown up in Gotham’s rougher neighbourhoods, he is finally getting the recognition he has worked towards, even earning an Oscar nomination. He has a close circle of friends and colleagues, and life seems to be falling into place.
But one night out changes everything. Matt becomes involved with a woman connected to Markos Szabo (David Dencik), a Gotham crime boss. Szabo’s response is brutal. Matt’s face is mutilated, leaving him almost unrecognisable and effectively ending his career.
The damage goes far beyond his appearance. His agent abandons him, his manager exploits his financial troubles, and even his childhood friend Corey (Joshua James) moves on to better opportunities. The people who once celebrated his success have little use for him now.
Matt’s fall from grace exposes the cruelty of an industry that can build a star around his looks and discard him when those looks are gone. With nowhere else to turn, Matt approaches Dr Caitlyn Corr (Naomi Ackie), a scientist working on an experimental nanocell treatment that could repair his damaged tissue. The procedure has not been approved for human trials, but Matt is desperate enough to take the risk.
Initially, it works. His face begins to recover, and he gets a glimpse of the life he thought he had lost. But the improvement does not last. After an overdose of the treatment, Matt discovers that his body is changing in ways neither he nor Caitlyn can control. He can heal from injuries and alter his appearance, but his newfound abilities come with a terrifying cost.
This is where Clayface comes into its own. Watkins, who has previously explored psychological horror in films such as Speak No Evil, understands how to make physical horror deeply uncomfortable. Matt’s transformation is not simply a matter of becoming a monster. His body begins to behave like something he no longer recognises, turning even the smallest injury into a source of dread.
One particularly disturbing sequence takes place aboard an aeroplane, where Matt struggles with his melting eyelids and attempts to cut away the damaged tissue with nail scissors. It is an uncomfortable scene that makes the audience feel every desperate movement.
A bloody confrontation at the nightclub Vesuvius is another standout, combining gruesome violence with the kind of exaggerated spectacle that suits a comic-book villain. As Matt discovers the possibilities of his shapeshifting abilities, the film finds increasingly inventive ways to turn his body into a weapon.
The make-up work is spectacular, giving his changing features a disturbing, almost claylike quality. Some of the digital effects, however, lack the impact of the practical work, making certain transformations feel less convincing than they should.
The film also has a sense of humour about its own excesses. At times, the violence becomes so outrageous that it borders on the absurd, and these moments can be a welcome break from the grimness of Matt’s story.
The problem is that the shifts between horror, humour and tragedy do not always feel natural. Just when the film seems ready to explore Matt’s suffering in greater depth, it moves on to the next grisly set piece.
Harries is the film’s biggest asset. Even beneath layers of prosthetic make-up, he manages to convey Matt’s fear, desperation and anger. His performance makes the character’s initial transformation genuinely tragic, particularly when he realises that the treatment meant to restore his life may be taking it away from him.
He also brings conviction to Matt’s gradual descent into violence. The character is not simply a victim seeking justice. As his powers grow, so does his willingness to hurt others. Watching him cross that line could have made for a compelling study of how suffering can turn into cruelty.
Unfortunately, the screenplay by Mike Flanagan and Hossein Amini does not fully explore this transformation. The film raises several interesting questions without doing enough to answer them. Is Matt's downfall a warning about Hollywood's obsession with physical appearance? Is it about the dangers of scientific experimentation? Or is it a story about how a traumatised man becomes the very thing he once feared?
All these ideas are present, but they never come together into a satisfying whole. Matt’s motivations also become increasingly difficult to follow in the final act, weakening the emotional impact of his choices.
Ackie brings warmth to Caitlyn, but the character deserved more than what the script gives her. Her scientific work raises important questions about responsibility and ambition, particularly as the consequences of the experiment become impossible to ignore. Yet she is often reduced to explaining Matt’s condition or serving as his romantic interest.
The relationship between the two also feels underdeveloped. There is potential for a more affecting story about love, guilt and the limits of human intervention, but the film rarely gives their connection enough room to breathe.
Minghella, as Caitlyn’s police detective fiancé, provides a useful counterpoint as he begins investigating the deaths surrounding Matt. However, his character remains largely tied to the mechanics of the plot rather than developing into a fully realised presence.
Another disappointment is the film's treatment of Gotham itself. The city has often been one of DC’s greatest assets, providing a dark, oppressive backdrop for stories about corruption, violence and moral decay. Here, Gotham rarely feels as distinctive or threatening as it should.