We all understand that Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger et al are the flamboyant prima donnas of their respective horror franchises, so it seems fitting that the eponymous bogeyman of this new slasher flick plies his murderous trade with a showman’s flair. Rather than springing out of the shadows, the jester (Michael Sheffield) – already the star of three shorts well-received on YouTube – is always front and centre, starting with a dapper intro sequence with him in his tangerine suit and nightmare mask, twirling his cane and primping his tie.
It’s just a shame the non-homicidal portions have none of the same sprezzatura. Writer-director Colin Krawchuk saddles us with a poorly written, lead-footed plot delivered in stodgy lumps between killings. After the apparent suicide by hanging of her estranged father (actually the jester’s first victim), musician Emma (Lelia Symington) must overcome her guilt for refusing to talk to him and her abandonment issues. Meanwhile, her favoured half-sibling Jocelyn must grapple with being all alone in the world – and where better to staunch that wound than hitting a spooky Halloween festival full of people in fake nooses and haunted houses?
There’s no logic other than “just because” as to why, intermingling with the revellers, the jester toys with this particular family. Unless it’s a fatuous suggestion that, as Krawchuk finally strains to distil this backstory into psychological allegory – that the villain represents the family’s hereditary flaw. This clutter simply isn’t needed and further dissipates already-spluttering tension, thanks to the fact the demon is near-constantly visible. All the more of a shame because the killings are superbly thought out, imaginatively grotesque and ushered along with playful brio by Sheffield – especially one show-stopper with a top hat in a convenience store. I could have watched this Paul Daniels from hell for hours. But even so: the moratorium on satanic clowns should start now.
• The Jester is released on 10 November in UK cinemas.
