Director / writer / editor: Damien Leone
Photography: George Steuber
Music: Paul Wiley
Cast: David Howard Thornton, Jenna Kanell, Samantha Scaffidi, Catherine Corcoran, Pooya Mohseni, Matt McAllister
My lifelong general policy on sequels—don’t ever, ever bother with them—does not help very much with franchises nowadays, arguably including the whole 16 years and counting Marvel universe. The Terrifier franchise, a canny mix of bitterly sardonic humor and extreme violence, is a good example. It starts with a 20-minute short from 2011, also called Terrifier and also featuring Art the Clown (and also available in the 2013 All Hallows’ Eve anthology picture by director and writer Damien Leone). That short provides a good overture and stake in the ground for what’s to come. Or so I presume because, full disclosure, my gorge rose basically as far as I could stand with this one and I invoked my sequel rules out of fear of what I’ll find in Terrifier 2 (2022, which got good reviews from people who like it better) and Terrifier 3 (2024 and now playing in theaters).
Art the Clown is not exactly a mime, but he never speaks. He is more like Charles Chaplin, using mincing gestures and exaggerated facial expressions to communicate—and, mostly, in his case, to terrify. Which he does quite effectively. He is terrifying and gross and powerful. His unsettling appearance pitches in to the melee with thick black lines of makeup and that stupid cockeyed hat. There is some uncertainty for most of this picture about whether he is just another fictional serial killer in the movies wearing a costume or something perhaps more supernatural. There is no uncertainty about his brutality. One particular scene here, more or less the centerpiece of the picture even though it occurs relatively early, really merits content warnings. Pay attention to them and to your limits because this movie can be very unpleasant.
My lifelong general policy on sequels—don’t ever, ever bother with them—does not help very much with franchises nowadays, arguably including the whole 16 years and counting Marvel universe. The Terrifier franchise, a canny mix of bitterly sardonic humor and extreme violence, is a good example. It starts with a 20-minute short from 2011, also called Terrifier and also featuring Art the Clown (and also available in the 2013 All Hallows’ Eve anthology picture by director and writer Damien Leone). That short provides a good overture and stake in the ground for what’s to come. Or so I presume because, full disclosure, my gorge rose basically as far as I could stand with this one and I invoked my sequel rules out of fear of what I’ll find in Terrifier 2 (2022, which got good reviews from people who like it better) and Terrifier 3 (2024 and now playing in theaters).
Art the Clown is not exactly a mime, but he never speaks. He is more like Charles Chaplin, using mincing gestures and exaggerated facial expressions to communicate—and, mostly, in his case, to terrify. Which he does quite effectively. He is terrifying and gross and powerful. His unsettling appearance pitches in to the melee with thick black lines of makeup and that stupid cockeyed hat. There is some uncertainty for most of this picture about whether he is just another fictional serial killer in the movies wearing a costume or something perhaps more supernatural. There is no uncertainty about his brutality. One particular scene here, more or less the centerpiece of the picture even though it occurs relatively early, really merits content warnings. Pay attention to them and to your limits because this movie can be very unpleasant.
At the same time, I get a big kick out of it. This raises the usual obvious question about horror, which is why do you do it, man? Why do you watch movies like this (my internal dialogue: why don’t I watch Terrifier 2?)? These might be good questions and frankly I don’t have the answers. Maybe it’s about sensation, riding the roller coaster, surviving. Maybe it’s because it’s Halloween. What I can tell you is that Terrifier delivers a scuzzy entertainment, low budget and getting up a ‘70s horror vibe, in which you are constantly uncomfortable and feel like maybe you need to take a shower. Somehow the clown bit makes it funny too. Cue Jerry Lewis.
It’s after midnight on Halloween night and two drunken Betty & Veronica girls in sexy costumes are roaming the empty city streets trying to sober up enough to drive home. One of them, Dawn (Catherine Corcoran), is oblivious to the street dangers around them. Her friend Tara (Jenna Kanell) is desperately trying to keep her cool for both of them. They first see Art the Clown on the street. He is watching them and then disappears. They decide to get something to eat to help them sober up. They find a pizzeria and are soon joined by Art the Clown. Dawn makes fun of him, takes a selfie with him, tells him he already has eight likes. We suspect with Tara that this might be a terrible mistake. When their pizza slices get to the table Art the Clown goes to the restaurant bathroom and does something unspeakable. It’s hard to know what it is exactly, but it enrages the two restaurant workers, who bodily throw him out of the place.
When the girls return to their car a tire has been slashed and they have no spare. Before long—the way these things go—they wind up in a strange and disorienting building. Exterminators are fumigating it for rats in the middle of the night. No one seems to live there except, perhaps, squatters. A strange woman wanders around carrying a doll as it if were a baby. It’s not clear what this building is—it seems to be abandoned and something of a wreck. Terrible, terrible things happen there that night. Multiple corpses.
I think what I like best about the franchise is found mostly in the 2011 short. Art the Clown is extremely dangerous but he looks extremely ridiculous and the cognitive dissonance somehow harmonizes and resolves into fascination. What’s this guy up to? A lot of it is about the look and feel of Art the Clown, a kind of masterpiece of makeup and design that insists by itself on his status as a classic villain of horror, as overly instant as it may seem. In this day and age the extreme violence is more by way of bona fides, saying since at least Saw and Hostel OK we got it if that’s what you’re looking for. It’s not what I’m looking for, but I admit it shores up the menace of this ridiculous figure, amps it way high to impossible degrees. And that feeling of discomfort and increasing helplessness is what we’re looking for in horror, or one thing some of us might be. There is a certain innate unstoppability about Art the Clown that can almost feel like he is consuming your soul. You feel tainted.
If that’s the kind of thing you’re looking for! Me, I’m still trying to figure out if I’m ready for Terrifier 2.
It’s after midnight on Halloween night and two drunken Betty & Veronica girls in sexy costumes are roaming the empty city streets trying to sober up enough to drive home. One of them, Dawn (Catherine Corcoran), is oblivious to the street dangers around them. Her friend Tara (Jenna Kanell) is desperately trying to keep her cool for both of them. They first see Art the Clown on the street. He is watching them and then disappears. They decide to get something to eat to help them sober up. They find a pizzeria and are soon joined by Art the Clown. Dawn makes fun of him, takes a selfie with him, tells him he already has eight likes. We suspect with Tara that this might be a terrible mistake. When their pizza slices get to the table Art the Clown goes to the restaurant bathroom and does something unspeakable. It’s hard to know what it is exactly, but it enrages the two restaurant workers, who bodily throw him out of the place.
When the girls return to their car a tire has been slashed and they have no spare. Before long—the way these things go—they wind up in a strange and disorienting building. Exterminators are fumigating it for rats in the middle of the night. No one seems to live there except, perhaps, squatters. A strange woman wanders around carrying a doll as it if were a baby. It’s not clear what this building is—it seems to be abandoned and something of a wreck. Terrible, terrible things happen there that night. Multiple corpses.
I think what I like best about the franchise is found mostly in the 2011 short. Art the Clown is extremely dangerous but he looks extremely ridiculous and the cognitive dissonance somehow harmonizes and resolves into fascination. What’s this guy up to? A lot of it is about the look and feel of Art the Clown, a kind of masterpiece of makeup and design that insists by itself on his status as a classic villain of horror, as overly instant as it may seem. In this day and age the extreme violence is more by way of bona fides, saying since at least Saw and Hostel OK we got it if that’s what you’re looking for. It’s not what I’m looking for, but I admit it shores up the menace of this ridiculous figure, amps it way high to impossible degrees. And that feeling of discomfort and increasing helplessness is what we’re looking for in horror, or one thing some of us might be. There is a certain innate unstoppability about Art the Clown that can almost feel like he is consuming your soul. You feel tainted.
If that’s the kind of thing you’re looking for! Me, I’m still trying to figure out if I’m ready for Terrifier 2.
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