When Richard ‘Stitches’ Grindle (Ross Noble) is killed entertaining a bunch of brats at a birthday party, he’s resurrected by a cult of demon worshipping clowns to exact his revenge on those same youths ten years later.
If you sighed at any point during that sentence, this is not a film for you.
Stitches is a glorious throw back to the 80s, when the local Cineplex and VHS machines were Freddy and Jason’s stomping grounds, followed by a bunch of clones and rip offs eager for a bit of that slasher coinage. Obviously, we mean this in a good way. Throwing caution to the wind, director Conor McMahon works well with a low-budget, providing some pitch black comedic deaths, whilst Noble bounces around gleefully speaking in one liners that would make Krueger blush.
There are some plot holes and leaps of logic that don’t exactly work and there’s a sense that the middle act was mixed up a little, but these are minor quibbles in a film that will exploit anybody’s coulrophobia (look it up).