James Gunn’s DC Universe takes its boldest swing yet with Clayface, a lean, uncompromising body-horror thriller that proves the studio can deliver something far darker and more intimate than traditional superhero spectacle. Directed by James Watkins (Speak No Evil) from a screenplay by Mike Flanagan and Hossein Amini, this R-rated origin story for Matt Hagen arrives as the third theatrical entry in Chapter One: Gods and Monsters—and it immediately stands apart.
The premise is deceptively simple and deeply tragic. Rising Hollywood star Matt Hagen (Tom Rhys Harries) sees his career and face destroyed in a brutal attack by a Gotham crime boss. Desperate to reclaim his identity, he turns to fringe scientist Dr. Caitlin Corr (Naomi Ackie) for an experimental treatment. What follows is a nightmarish descent into physical and psychological dissolution, as Hagen’s body becomes living, malleable clay and his grip on reality—and humanity—slips away. The film explores vanity, corrosive love, scientific ambition, and the horror of no longer recognizing yourself, all without requiring any prior DCU knowledge.
Harries delivers a star-making performance. He captures Hagen’s boyish charm and quiet menace with equal conviction, making the character’s transformation both heartbreaking and terrifying. Early reactions from the October 13 premiere consistently single him out as the film’s anchor, with viewers noting the raw physical and emotional commitment required for the role. Ackie brings complexity to the scientist whose work both saves and damns him, while supporting players including Eddie Marsan and Max Minghella populate a grim Gotham that feels lived-in and corrupt.
Watkins leans hard into the body horror. Practical and visual effects are deployed with inventive cruelty—moments that had premiere audiences watching through their hands. The film has drawn comparisons to David Cronenberg’s The Fly and Sam Raimi’s Darkman for its mad-science tragedy and grotesque physicality, while also nodding to classic gothic romance and hard-boiled revenge thrillers. It is grim, largely humorless, and unapologetically brutal. Yet the gore never feels empty; it serves the story of a man literally and figuratively melting under the weight of ambition and loss.
As a longtime DC fan, this is exactly the kind of risk the DCU needed. Not every entry has to be a colorful team-up or hopeful origin. Clayface treats a classic Batman villain with seriousness and pathos, proving lesser-known rogues can carry their own films when the storytelling is this focused. It expands the tonal range of Gods and Monsters without feeling like homework, and it gives horror fans a reason to care about this universe. Early viewer reactions—calling it one of the greatest DC films they’ve seen, “Batman meets Terrifier,” “horrifying and haunting,” and “movie of the year”—align with the critical buzz. The enthusiasm is not hyperbole; the film earns it.
At a tight 108 minutes and a modest budget, Clayface avoids superhero bloat and prioritizes character and atmosphere. It is disturbing, beautifully crafted, and unexpectedly moving. For DC fans willing to embrace something far darker than Superman or Supergirl, and for horror audiences seeking a tragic monster story, this is essential viewing. See it in theaters—preferably in one of the premium formats—this Halloween season. James Gunn has the wheel, and Clayface is a reminder of how exciting that can be.
