My quick rating – 6.0/10. In Clown in a Cornfield, director Eli Craig (Tucker and Dale vs. Evil) returns to the horror-comedy space with a slasher that’s blood-soaked, self-aware, and subtly skewering generational divides. Based on Adam Cesare’s YA horror novel, this adaptation follows Quinn (Katie Douglas) and her father (Aaron Abrams) as they relocate to the small town of Kettle Springs, a community as outdated and bitter as the rotary phones still nailed to their walls.
The film opens with a clever prologue set in 1991, at a rural barn party that sets the tone for what’s to come. For anyone who graduated that year, it’s a nostalgic nod; for Gen Z, it’s a cultural archaeology dig. That flashback segues into the present day, or at least Kettle Springs’ version of it. The town hasn’t moved on from its glory days, and neither have its residents. With the Baypen Corn Syrup Factory burned to the ground and tensions boiling between old-school adults and rebellious teens, the scene is set for chaos.
Enter Friendo, a deranged clown mascot once used to peddle corn syrup and now reimagined as the town’s harbinger of death. When bodies start piling up, the initial shock gives way to something more sinister. By the time a second clown shows up, the mystery isn’t so much who is killing as why, and the film leans into its predictability with a wink.
Katie Douglas brings a likable presence to Quinn, anchoring the chaos with just enough emotional weight. Will Sasso pops in for a few moments of comic relief, though even he can’t breathe much life into a thinly written cast of side characters. The townsfolk, particularly the “hick” caricatures, are painted in broad strokes, likely on purpose, as Craig seems to be poking fun at the very tropes he’s using.
And that’s where Clown in a Cornfield finds its real strength: it knows exactly what it is. The kills are creative but not excessive, the pacing is tight, and the tone strikes a nice balance between camp and carnage. There’s a deeper message here—something about generational resentment, cultural stagnation, and who really needs “cleansing”—but it’s buried just deep enough that you can enjoy the film without digging too hard.
Whether Gen Z will catch the joke or not is part of the fun. Eli Craig seems to flip the mirror back on the viewer, inviting us to laugh with the film, not just at its over-the-top premise. And while it doesn’t redefine the slasher genre, it contributes to its welcome resurgence with style and blood-soaked charm.
With its open-ended finale and a trilogy of books behind it, a sequel seems more than possible. And if the fan support is there, this might just be the beginning of Friendo’s twisted legacy.
Currently streaming for theater at home pricing on various services, including Amazon.