Snakes on a Plane. We Bought a Zoo. In the grand tradition of these concise, revealing movie titles comes Clown in a Cornfield. Writer/director Eli Craig (who penned the screenplay, based on Adam Cesare's novel of the same, with Carter Blanchard), however, doesn't immediately submerge in Krusty lurking around maize. Instead, the focus is on teenager Quinn Maybrook (Katie Douglas). On the urging of her father Dr. Maybrook (Aaron Abrams), she's come to the small rural town Kettle Springs for her senior year of High School. Immediately, Quinn feels hostility from the local adults, like Sheriff Dunne (Will Sasso). As if moving wasn’t hard enough already.
On the other hand, local fellow teens like Cole (Carson McCormac) and Rust (Vincent Muller) are way more welcoming. A bunch of these youngsters are behind viral videos that violently reimagine the beleaguered town’s pride and joy: Frendo the Clown. This corn syrup mascot once brought the area untold riches. Now Frendo’s a way for whipper snappers to go viral. However, just a few days into Quinn arriving into her new domicile, crossbow wielding psycho dressed as Frendo crashes a big party. This is no fake stunt. People are dying and blood is flowing. Now it’s time to avoid that Clown in a Cornfield and survive the night.
That catchy title might conjure up immediate associations with Sharknado. However, Clown in a Cornfield does continue themes related to classism and rural existence Craig previously explored in his 2011 charmer Tucker and Dale vs. Evil. That feature took the “evil redneck” stereotype of horror movies and imbued such characters with depth. Turns out being in a lower economic class and living in the swamp doesn’t make you evil. Cornfield similarly challenges traditional cinematic conceptions of what fly-over-state existence looks like.
This is especially true with the characters of Cole and Rust, the latter of whom is a camo-clad man of the land much like Tucker and Dale. Heroes can look like anything in Craig’s horror films, including outdoorsy outsiders who would normally be instant villains in other slasher films. Don’t expect Cornfield to function as a whitewashed vision of these rural domiciles, though. This production has a bone to pick with older gatekeepers in these areas who cling to “transition” and exude instant hostility towards Gen Z and Alpha individuals. Even Quinn’s kindhearted dad often ignores his daughter’s point-of-view. plays a key role in the Cornfield script.
Eli Craig's Clown in a Cornfield will never get mistaken for the works of John Sayles as peak soulful cinematic reflections of rural Americans. However, the blending of trashy graphic deaths and weightier social commentary have a greater success rate (not to mention more specificity) than other 2025 horror features like Wolf Man. Unfortunately, the scares in Cornfield could’ve used some refining. Part of the issue is the latest addition to the pantheon of horror cinema clowns, Frendo. After Pennywise, those Killer Klowns from Outer Space, and Art the Clown, there’s just not much more terror to wring out of warped jesters.
Unfortunately, Frendo doesn’t rise to the challenge. Save for the darkly amusing detail of his shoes constantly squeaking, there isn’t much about this masked killer that’s distinctive. His look isn’t especially imaginative with his permanently agape smile, red nose, and hints of facial wear-and-tear. That mask also gives off heavy shades of Twisted Metal's Sweet Tooth, which makes it difficult to buy Frendo as a distinctive frightening threat. To boot, shooting Frendo almost exclusively in the dead of night means the killer’s bright red stripes or blue handkerchief aren’t really discernible. If you’re entering the crowded field of horror movie clowns, nothing less than your A-game will do. Frendo, alas, does not reach those heights.
Credit where credit is due, though, Craig and Blanchard’s script does conjure up an inspired fun detail involving Frendo’s presence in Cornfield. No spoilers here, but you won’t have to wait long after the characters first modern-day Frendo sighting to experience it. Unfortunately, other elements in that screenplay are more subpar. This includes wringing tension surrounding Frendo’s potential identity. In sharp contrast to the original Scream’s shocking reveal of the men behind Ghostface, anyone with eyes (or someone whose just seen a certain Edgar Wright movie) will quickly guess what’s going on with Frendo.
More pressingly, the budget-constraints of Clown in a Cornfield become distractingly apparent in the finale. In the grand tradition of B-movie industrial backdrops in Future War and Space Mutiny, Cornfield sets its climax in a dingily colored factory. The greatest cost-efficient horror movies use limited budgets to inspire creativity rather than constantly remind viewers of those limitations. Cornfield’s first half succeeds on that front more often than not. However, that drably shot home stretch most certainly doesn’t. Deploying overly familiar sound effects for noises like a car backing up only accentuates this problem.
Even after ending on a sour note reeking of a curtailed budget, Clown in a Cornfield’s a perfectly decent diversion. It helps that Craig wisely keeps the proceedings at a brief runtime (credits start running before even the 90-minute marks). Plus, amiable performers like Cassandra Potenza, Will Sasso, and Kevin Durand enjoyably revel in inhabiting horror cinema archetypes. Most importantly, Clown in a Cornfield offers what it says on the tin. If you come to this movie wanting a clown slicing and dicing, you’ll get what you want. Settling for just delivering the familiar, though, means Cornfield inevitably indulges in a frustrating recurring problem plaguing mainstream modern horror/comedies like Heart Eyes.
Said problem involves characters over-explaining visual gags that could’ve been humorous. Here, a Cornfield bit where a character takes the time to ring a doorbell while evading Frendo is funny. Why did they kill the gag with Quinn saying, “did you really just ring the doorbell?” There’s a more subversive version of Clown in a Cornfield that follows Craig’s most thoughtful impulses away from such cornball, conformist tendencies. The incarnation hitting theaters, though, still has its grisly pleasures. If nothing else, it’s better than both Snakes on a Plane and We Bought a Zoo.