There’s a special joy that comes in discovering a film that was seemingly been dismissed, if not outright despised, by the industry, audiences and critical establishment, to the point where it carries the burden of being considered a failure, which becomes an indelible stain on its reputation – and realising that it is actually a singular work of unhinged ingenuity, and every negative opinion thrown against it was purely a case of it being misunderstood. This becomes even more entertaining when we realise that there are some films that perhaps do deserve some derision, but which we still find to be worth our time, solely because they are unquestionably entertaining and often even unexpectedly ambitious. We find this to be the case in Clifford, a film that was essentially the passion project for writers Steven Kampmann and Will Porter, who decided to take a bold swing by crafting a story that seems promising on the outset, but unfortunately struggled to find an immediate audience. Brought to life by Paul Flaherty, the film is centred around the titular Clifford Daniels, an adorable ten-year-old boy who loves dinosaurs. Some would consider him a delightfully mischievous rapscallion with a penchant for practical jokes, while others would prefer to describe him as a bundle of uncontrollable chaos that leaves a trail of destruction in his path wherever he goes, while a few may even suggest the only appropriate way to describe him would be through a professional diagnosis, with terms such as “psychopath” and “demented” being regular fixtures in the conversation. The film follows Clifford as he is sent to spend a week with his uncle, an architect who jumps at the opportunity to welcome his nephew into his home, solely to impress his future wife, who doesn’t believe he can actually care for a child. An outrageously funny film that has been misunderstood to the point where we can dismiss some of its more brutal criticisms, Clifford is a brilliant film – it’s not going to appeal to everyone, but for the specific target audience, it’s an absolute delight and the kind of unforgettable experience that becomes formative for those willing to surrender to the deranged charms of this peculiar cinematic curio.

The concept of the “evil child” has been fertile ground for many films across multiple genres. The most obvious examples exist in either the horror genre, with films like The Bad Seed (which was actually the impetus for this film) or The Omen, or in comedies, with Problem Child and Dennis the Menace being commonly cited as the most prominent entries. Clifford has always existed on the margins when it comes to this subject, becoming the black sheep amongst a canon of works that are mainly celebrated and acclaimed, if not simply just adored by a wide audience – and what makes this particularly interesting is that it actually combines both extremes, being an outrageous comedy that is structured like we would expect a horror film on the subject to transpire, particularly in how it becomes one moment of unhinged terror after another, albeit where the only person being subjected to these unspeakable horrors is the protagonist’s uncle, allowing the audience to just be voyeurs into these outrageous scenarios. It’s a delightful film that is built around the very simple premise of seeing just how far the filmmakers could go when creating perhaps the most insidious and unhinged child protagonist imaginable, someone who is unambiguously a terror. What makes Clifford so enthralling is that unlike those films that we mentioned previously, where the behaviour of the character could be attributed to some sinister forces, or where they genuinely believe that they are not doing anything wrong, this story centres around someone who is entirely aware that he is being profoundly evil, but relishes in the ability to be an absolute nightmare, hiding behind the veneer of innocence, pleading ignorance when in reality he is somehow far smarter and cunning than his victims. This alone is a fascinating premise – it may be extraordinarily lowbrow and perhaps even slightly off-putting, but when we consider that nothing in this film was supposed to be particularly logical, we can grow a sincere appreciation for what the film is attempting to communicate, especially in those moments when it allows itself to spiral into something far darker and more deranged, which are often the best parts of the film as a whole.

Considering it was not telling a particularly unique story, there needed to be some element that set Clifford apart from all the other films that came before it, which was found in the decision to cast Martin Short in the titular role. Despite being in his forties by the time the film went into production, and already having starred in several notable films of varying degrees of quality, the choice to place him in a part that is usually reserved for younger actors making their film debut was both bewildering and absolutely genius. A good litmus test for any prospective viewers is to take some of Short’s previous work and select those moments where he plays to the cheap seats, going as broad as possible, leaning into his love for playing the over-the-top ham who simply cannot be contained. For those who find those moments unbearable and difficult to embrace, Clifford is going to be insufferable, whereas those who can connect with Short when he is at his most excessive, being able to leap onto his wavelength, the film will be an absolute riot. It’s undeniably the actor at his most unhinged, and he makes a meal out of every moment – and you’d be foolish to not see just how exceptionally he commits to the part, even if it is the definition of an acquired taste. As we see in the core principles that define great comedy, a good patsy is just as important to the kind of clownish character played by Short, and the film is fortunate enough to get Charles Grodin, quite simply one of the greatest actors of his generation, and someone who can match some of the funniest people in the industry right down to the smallest detail, proving to be an undeniably brilliant comedic presence in his own right. Many actors would be hesitant to go toe-to-toe with Short when he is given a character that relies on him going so far that he barely even registers as human by the end, but Grodin is not only unintimidated, but welcomes the opportunity. He’s outrageously funny, being perhaps the greatest deadpan comedian to ever work in film, doing so much with even just the pronunciation of certain words or the way he expresses himself non-verbally, being just as funny as Short, only in a very different but ultimately complementary way. It’s a pair of tremendous performances, and the leads play off each other splendidly, turning in absolutely stellar performances.

My opinion on Clifford does veer towards the enthusiastically positive, but even with effusive praise, I’m not delusional enough to pretend that there aren’t clear reasons why it was critically reviled and commercially a complete failure. Unfortunately, when dealing with these off-the-wall comedy films, there are going to be those that instantly succeed, and those which are far ahead of their time, and this film absolutely occupies the latter category. The kind of humour on display here is fascinating, because it seems like it is running the gamut of every conceivable kind of comedy, all of which are compressed into this dynamic work that is so dense, it feels like it is perpetually right on the edge of eruption. From the first moment, where it makes extraordinary use of the kind of maniacal slapstick humour that was gradually becoming more prominent at the time (and which would be perfected in the coming decade), right until those final moments in which it allows itself to veer into the overtly satirical, Clifford is sampling a range of different tones, many of which seem quite strange from a distance, but which nonetheless still lead to the film developing quite an intriguing approach that is often difficult to pin down into precise words. Credit has to go to NAME, who was not an established director when he was hired to direct the film (with Kampmann leaving the production as a result of creative differences, hence why he is credited under a pseudonym), but who rolls with the punches deftly enough to handle all the twists and turns required to make Clifford work. What is notable is the complete lack of sentimentality – we saw many examples of films that play to the rafters in terms of off-the-wall comedy, but at some point have some internal conflict that results in overly saccharine moments, which is not the case here. There’s some resolution, and the logical happy ending in which everyone gets the conclusion they deserve, but it’s notably handled with the kind of sardonic, tongue-in-cheek wit that has always made Clifford stand out as a monumentally more interesting work than many people may have expected based on a cursory glance and the reputation that it has developed over time.

Clifford is one of the defining works in a category I call the “cursed classic”, films that develop such a substantial cult following that has not quite tipped over into being considered a more prominent opinion. Even in his autobiography, Short mentions that, despite being very proud of the film, he is still bewildered when he encounters young people who claim to love it, since it was such a monumental failure at the time that he cannot fathom someone actually genuinely enjoying it. There’s still a long way to go before it can truly be considered to have had a proper critical reassessment, but I’m absolutely thrilled to be amongst those that wholeheartedly believe this to be a fully-formed masterpiece in every way, even if that may seem like an unconventional opinion based on what is generally considered to be the overall consensus for this film. The reasons why I wholeheartedly believe that it warrants a critical reassessment is primarily because it has such a clear vision for what it wants to be, and actually achieves it – it’s not inherently at fault for attempting to be an off-putting, sardonic dark comedy about a genuinely malicious child, when it delivers exactly what it promises, only to be met with criticisms that it is built around a one-dimensional premise. To be fair, a large portion of the discussion that surrounds the film is based on the fact that it has a middle-aged comedian known for going broad playing a ten-year-old child, which has become the one-sentence description that has lingered over the film for over three decades. However, once we peer beneath the surface and try to determine exactly what the aims of the film were at the outset, it’s easy to see that there are slightly more layers at play. Clifford is by no means a complex film – in fact, the less thought we put into understanding it, the more we actually enjoy its unique brand of madness, but there is a ramshackle charm that keeps the film afloat, making it a very effective comedy. It’s genuinely very funny (both the balance of slapstick and satire is fascinating and is worth the price of admission alone), and has such a distinct vision, as well as being a terrific vehicle for its two leads, who are perfectly paired. It may not be to everyone’s taste, but there’s no doubt in my mind that Clifford is an extraordinarily effective film, and one that unquestionably earns the growing reputation as a misunderstood classic.