By Ben Bussey
I owe Clinger a minor apology. I’d assumed, based on the synopsis and first trailer, that this was a zom-rom-com, when in truth it’s more of a ghost story. Even so, the ghosts involved here are able to take physical form, make physical contact, and even get physically intimate… indeed, a lot of what goes on falls pretty far outside the usual jurisdiction of haunting spirits. But hey, ghosts, zombies – they’re all made up anyway, right? Rather than get hung up on futile subgenre distinctions, we should enjoy Clinger for what it is: a high school romantic comedy with a horror twist, and a perfectly enjoyable one at that. No, it doesn’t necessarily break a lot of new ground, but that’s hardly a prerequisite for an entertaining 80-minute movie; this is a simple, low budget affair without huge aspirations, and I’m happy to report that by and large it delivers just what it sets out to accomplish. (And I’m very relieved, as this is the first new horror DVD release I’ve been able to say that about so far in 2016.)
Still, while it isn’t technically a zom-rom-com, there’s no denying that Clinger is a gender-reversed play on the same essential set-up as Joe Dante’s fun but flawed Burying the Ex. Fern Petersen (Jennifer Laporte) is an ambitious high school senior with eyes on a track scholarship to MIT, when she starts dating guitar-strumming loner Robert Klingher (Vincent Martella – the voice of Phineas on the awesome Disney cartoon Phineas and Ferb, the knowledge of which made me imagine such dialogue as “Ferb, I know what we’re gonna do today! Get decapitated!”) It’s the first romance either of them has been involved in, and everything seems great at first, but as the weeks pass – remember, this is high school, any relationship that endures beyond a day or two feels like an eon – Robert’s constant gifts, songs and grandiose displays of affection start to send Fern around the bend.
However, just as she decides to bite the bullet and dump him, Robert’s latest somewhat ill-conceived romantic gesture goes horribly wrong, resulting in him literally losing his head (don’t ask), and leaving Fern understandably traumatised. However, it isn’t long before he shows up again in ghostly form, naturally putting Fern through an emotional wringer: while on the one hand she’s happy for the chance to put things right between them, she also has her own life to get on with, which Robert isn’t so keen on letting her do. And when she tries to turn her back on him, the hauntings start to get a lot less friendly.
I suppose it’s timely that Clinger is getting its home entertainment release now at the start of February, which, as most readers will doubtless be aware, has been marked as Women in Horror Month for the past seven years now (as long as BAH has been online, coincidentally). While it’s directed by a dude (Michael Steves) and two of the writers are also dudes (Steves and Bubba Fish collaborating with Gabi Chennisi), this is very much a movie told from a female perspective, with the female characters at front and centre. As well as Laporte’s Fern – a likeable, but clearly flawed protagonist, often as much to blame for the mishaps that ensue as her phantom boyfriend – we have Julia Aks as Fern’s elder sister Kelsey, a slacker with delusions of entrepreneurship; Shonna Major as Moe, Fern’s dim but well-meaning Christian best friend with an unconscious tendency to speak in graphic sexual innuendos; and Alicia Monet Caldwell as Coach Kingsley, Fern’s overbearing track coach (though she’d easily pass for another of the high school girls) who conveniently also happens to be a semi-retired professional ghost hunter. Yes, that’s a bit of a lame plot device, and indeed there’s a lot about the plot that doesn’t bear close scrutiny. It’s also a shame that, whilst Clinger makes a point of building up interesting and layered female characters, the male characters really fall by the wayside – notably Fern’s himbo-ish would-be replacement boyfriend Harlan (the perhaps unfortunately named Taylor Clift). It seems feasible that they made this character a two-dimensional fantasy figure as a pointed reflection of how women are typically presented in horror movies – it’s also notable that the film’s only gratuitous nudity comes from him. If so, point taken; I’ll leave it to the reader to decide whether flipping objectification on its head makes it okay.
So yes, Clinger is without doubt a very female-oriented film – but its status as a horror movie is a bit more open to debate. For the most part this is essentially a high school comedy in the Heathers/Mean Girls mode (we have a whole ensemble of braindead popular girls in the background), and for the most part the horror elements are quite low in the mix. Beyond Robert’s bloody but very cartoonish death scene early on, there doesn’t initially seem to be much going on to put the film above a PG-13 – but then around the midway mark, when things go sour and Robert starts whipping up some supernatural vengeance, the gore quota and the F-bombs go way up. Even so, Clinger remains a very light-hearted affair, the final showdown relying less on blood and guts than Ghostbusters-esque laser beam FX; with pretty reasonable CGI, considering how clearly low-budget a film this is. All things considered, then, this should be a perfectly okay film to show to younger teens, so long as you don’t mind them hearing a bit of swearing and sex talk (come on, it’s not as if the little fuckers haven’t heard it all on the playground).
But lest we dismiss Clinger’s horror credentials offhand, it should also be noted that Fern and Kelsey’s mother is none other than Debbie Rochon, whilst Robert’s mom is Lisa Wilcox. How’s that for horror cred?
Clinger may not be a comedy horror classic in waiting – many of the jokes fall flat, the plot’s patchy, and as mentioned some of the characters are a bit 2D – but all things considered it’s an enjoyable popcorn movie with an old fashioned spirit, and it’s not hard to see it being a great gateway movie for a new generation of fledgling horror fans.
Clinger is available now in the UK on DVD and digital download from Solo Media and Matchbox Films.