03 May REVIEW – ‘Clown in a Cornfield’ is slick, brutal, and surprisingly subversive
Despite its rather obtuse title, the deliciously entertaining Clown in a Cornfield proves there’s still a world of teen slashers with bite, style, and something to say. Directed and co-written by Eli Craig, returning to horror after his cult treasure Tucker & Dale vs. Evil, this slick, brutal, and surprisingly subversive adaptation of Adam Cesare’s novel of the same name walks a tricky tonal tightrope and rarely falters.
It plays the hits that fans of ’80s and ’90s slashers crave, but it also lets a little modern-day bitterness bleed in around the edges. There’s a real pulse under the blood spray. While it doesn’t entirely land every punch, the film’s confident genre play, its super smart inversion of expectations, and a breakout performance by Katie Douglas are more than enough to make it one of the most memorable horror releases of the year so far.
The story begins in familiar territory. Quinn Maybrook (Douglas) and her dad, Dr. Glenn Maybrook (Aaron Abrams), relocate from Philadelphia to the rural town of Kettle Springs, Missouri, after a family tragedy. The town is small, decaying, and stuck in the past. Its once-thriving corn syrup factory burned down years ago, and its creepy clown mascot, Frendo, has taken on the air of a ghostly local legend.
Quinn, still grieving her mother and trying to keep her distance from her dad, falls in with a clique of rebellious teens; Cole (Carson MacCormac), Janet (Cassandra Potenza), Ronnie (Verity Marks), Tucker (Ayo Solanke), Rust (Vincent Muller), and Matt (Alexandre Martin Deakin). The group’s local notoriety stems from their prank videos on YouTube, where they dress up as Frendo the Clown and stage mock slasher scenes. The adults in town, already wary of their kids, are less than amused, especially given the filming of one of their stunts may have been the cause of the factory fire that left the majority of the town unemployed.
Of course, it isn’t long before someone in a real Frendo mask shows up wielding actual weapons. As the body count rises, suspicions fly, and Quinn finds herself navigating a blood-soaked nightmare that brings the town’s generational tensions to a head. While the setup might feel routine, Craig isn’t interested in merely rehashing the slasher formula. About halfway through, the film hits a sharp narrative pivot that changes not just the stakes but the subtext. What starts as a masked killer whodunnit becomes something far more pointed and unsettling.
It’s difficult to discuss the film’s smartest choice without veering into spoiler territory, but it’s safe to say that Clown in a Cornfield isn’t content to keep things at the surface. It begins as a nostalgic riff on rural horror but shifts into a critique of the generational blame game. The town’s youth are punished for being too loud, too online, too different, while the adults cling to a past that left them with nothing but empty cornfields and rust. That the killer dons the Frendo mask isn’t just a gimmick but a statement. The clown, once a symbol of civic pride, has been twisted into a figure of resentment, and the film mines that bitterness for every jagged edge it can find.
As our latest final girl, Douglas delivers a quietly commanding performance as Quinn. She plays grief with restraint and realism, never leaning too hard into teen angst or final girl tropes. There’s a groundedness to her work here that helps tether the film even as things grow increasingly absurd and gory. She’s not the loudest character in the ensemble, but she’s the one we root for, thanks in large part to Douglas’ ability to shift from vulnerable to fierce without ever losing our empathy. When she finally takes a stand, the film earns its applause.
The supporting cast, especially MacCormac as the bad-boy-with-a-heart Cole and Potenza as the icy but smart Janet, do solid work, even when the script doesn’t give them much more to play than familiar archetypes. Marks and Solanke have a charming dynamic as Ronnie and Tucker, and Muller’s Rust feels like the kind of lovable oddball you’d find in an early Kevin Williamson script. There’s clearly an effort to make these kids more than just cannon fodder, and while not all of them are fully realised, you do feel the loss when Frendo comes calling.
Craig brings a visual confidence to the film that elevates it above most straight-to-streaming horror fare. There’s a nasty gleam to the night scenes, and the final act is shot with real tension and flair. While the pacing stutters in the second act and a few kills lack the inventiveness of others, Craig clearly knows how to build suspense and deliver payoffs. He’s also not afraid to let the violence sting. This isn’t truly a horror comedy in the Happy Death Day mould. It’s mean when it wants to be, and there are moments that land like a gut punch. That being said, there are plenty of laughs involved, especially one involving a rotary phone that left me in legitimate hysterics.
Where Clown in a Cornfield really finds its teeth, though, is in its thematic ambition. This is a film deeply preoccupied with generational disconnect, with a town that resents its youth so bitterly it would rather erase them than evolve. That undercurrent of rage gives the film a political texture it never fully articulates, but it doesn’t need to. The imagery speaks for itself. A clown mascot meant to unite a town, but now turned into an executioner. Teens trying to build an identity out of internet ephemera, hunted by the literal face of their hometown’s past. It’s sharp, angry horror that sneaks its point in under a rubber mask.
That said, not every element of the film lands. The dialogue can be clunky, especially when characters are tasked with delivering exposition or thematic one-liners. Some of the older characters, like the bumbling sheriff played by Will Sasso and the town mayor played by Kevin Durand, verge on cartoonish in their rage. Their performances are entertaining, but they drain some of the subtlety from the film’s critique. A more restrained approach might have made the film’s twist hit even harder.
There’s also a lingering sense that the film wants to be more emotionally resonant than it is. The dynamic between Quinn and her father, played with warmth and clumsiness by Abrams, is sketched with care but never fully developed. You understand their pain, and there are a few tender moments, but the film doesn’t give them quite enough time to breathe. That’s not to say the emotional core is absent, just that it occasionally takes a backseat to the more familiar rhythms of the genre.
Still, when it matters, Clown in a Cornfield delivers. The barn party massacre sequence is one of the most electrifying horror set pieces in recent memory, marrying neon lights, frantic camera work, and brutal choreography to create a sense of escalating panic. It’s the kind of moment horror fans will replay, dissect, and rank, and it proves Craig hasn’t lost his gift for chaos. The tense score by Brandon Roberts and Marcus Trumpp adds an extra layer of dread and grandeur, mixing old-school slasher shrieks with eerie lullabies.
Importantly, the film doesn’t just coast on pastiche. While it tips its hat to classics like Scream, I Know What You Did Last Summer, and even The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, it carves out its own voice. The twist that occurs halfway through reorients the entire narrative and gives the audience a real “holy shit” moment is pure genius. It’s that rare kind of pivot that deepens the story rather than derails it, and it brings the horror home in a way that will have you thinking about this film for days.
There’s also something to be said for how the film addresses trauma, both personal and communal. Quinn is still raw from the loss of her mother, and her emotional numbness gives way to moments of real strength, not just in the fight-for-your-life sense but in choosing to care, to connect, to survive without closing herself off. Likewise, Kettle Springs is a town shell-shocked by economic collapse and tragedy, and while the adults misplace their anger, the pain underneath it is recognisably human. The horror emerges from that sadness as much as from the violence.
By the time the dust settles and the jester has finished his mayhem, Clown in a Cornfield has done more than enough to justify its premise. It balances carnage and commentary, camp and craft, in ways that most studio horror films can’t. It may not reinvent the genre, but it reminds us what a clever, mean, angry slasher can do. It points its crossbow at the generation gap and lets the arrow fly. Nothing beats a horror movie that can genuinely shock its audience. For that fact alone, this unassuming little blood-soaked gem is a huge triumph.
Distributor: StudioCanal
Cast: Katie Douglas, Aaron Abrams, Carson MacCormac, Kevin Durand, Will Sasso
Director: Eli Craig
Producers: Wyck Godfrey, Marty Bowen, Isaac Klausner, John Fischer, Paris Kassidokostas-Latsis, Terry Douglas
Screenplay: Carter Blanchard, Eli Craig
Cinematography: Brian Pearson
Production Design: Brian Kane
Costume Design: Laura DeLuca
Editor: Sabrina Pitre
Music: Brandon Roberts, Marcus Trumpp
Running Time: 96 minutes
Release Date: 8th May 2025 (Australia)