Till Death Do Us Part… and Then Some
Love can be hard. Breakups can be harder. But dating a clingy ghost who won’t take “it’s over” for an answer? That’s Clinger, a 2015 horror-comedy that dares to ask: what if Ghost (1990) and Mean Girls had a paranormal baby raised on Red Bull and grave dirt?
Directed by Michael Steves in his feature debut, Clinger is a hilariously absurd romp through the afterlife of teenage romance. It’s sweet, spooky, and stupid in all the right ways—a love story that proves sometimes your ex really ishaunting you.
Fern and the Phantom Menace
At the heart of Clinger is Fern Petersen (Jennifer Laporte), a perfectly normal high school student with a perfectly abnormal problem: her clingy ex-boyfriend Robert (Vincent Martella) is dead—and not in the “emotionally unavailable” sense. He’s an actual ghost, back from beyond the grave to smother her with spectral affection.
Robert is that ex who texts “hey” six months after the breakup—except he materializes through walls and occasionally tries to murder you so you can “be together forever.” You can’t block that number.
Fern, to her credit, handles this paranormal predicament like a seasoned ghost therapist. She tries to reason with him, comfort him, and even rekindle their connection—until she realizes that dating a dead guy is, quite literally, a dead end.
When Robert decides that if he can’t have Fern in life, he’ll just drag her into death, the movie kicks into gloriously absurd gear. Because who needs couples therapy when you have ghost-hunting track coaches and necromantic self-defense pills?
The Ghost with the Most (Emotional Damage)
Vincent Martella, best known as the voice of Phineas from Phineas and Ferb, delivers a performance that’s both endearing and unsettling—a spectral blend of dorky charm and homicidal attachment. His Robert is equal parts tragic and terrifying, like Casper after too many failed relationships.
He’s not a villain in the traditional sense—more like the world’s neediest poltergeist. He doesn’t want to rule the world or devour souls; he just wants his girlfriend back. And if that means haunting her family, manipulating the afterlife, and committing a few supernatural homicides—well, love makes you do crazy things.
Martella’s dead-eyed sincerity sells the film’s central joke: that undying devotion can be a literal curse. It’s not subtle, but it’s deliciously self-aware.
Jennifer Laporte: The Final Girl with a Heart
As Fern, Jennifer Laporte gives the film its beating (and still-living) heart. She’s not your typical horror heroine—she’s not running from masked killers or cursed VHS tapes—but from her own emotional baggage. Her performance is equal parts sass, sincerity, and survivor energy.
Fern’s evolution from sweet girlfriend to ghost-busting badass is surprisingly satisfying. She doesn’t just survive; she grows. She learns that boundaries are important—even when your boyfriend’s a vaporous manifestation of unresolved teenage lust.
By the end, when she tells her new crush she wants to stay single for a while, it’s the healthiest thing anyone’s ever said in a horror movie. Somewhere, a therapist nods approvingly.
The Supporting Cast: Spiritually Unstable
Of course, no horror-comedy is complete without a gaggle of weirdos, and Clinger delivers like a séance with an open bar.
Alicia Monet Caldwell steals scenes as Valeria Kingsley, Fern’s track coach by day and ghost hunter by night. Imagine Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s Giles if he wore running shoes and handed out ghost-seeing pills instead of life advice. She’s the type of teacher every high schooler secretly wants—one who assigns extra credit for surviving spectral attacks.
Then there’s Harlan (Taylor Clift), Fern’s new love interest, who’s basically a golden retriever in human form. His only crime is existing while Fern’s undead ex-boyfriend is watching. Poor guy spends half the movie trying to flirt and the other half dodging flying objects.
The rest of the cast—Fern’s eccentric family, spectral side characters, and a gang of undead misfits—round out the chaos. Each one feels like they wandered in from a different genre, and somehow, that’s the charm.
The Tone: A Haunted House Party
Clinger is what happens when you throw Beetlejuice, Ghostbusters, and a teen rom-com into a blender and hit “puree.” It’s funny, fast-paced, and gleefully ridiculous, mixing sentimental teen drama with slapstick supernatural nonsense.
Director Michael Steves doesn’t aim for realism—he aims for fun. The special effects are endearingly cheesy (expect glowing ghosts and plenty of ectoplasmic weirdness), and the humor walks the fine line between clever and cringe with supernatural confidence.
Where most horror films go for jump scares, Clinger goes for punchlines. There’s a fight scene involving ghost-repelling gadgets that looks like a cross between a science fair and an exorcism. There are dialogue exchanges so deadpan you can almost hear the writers giggling behind the camera.
And somehow, it all works.
Ghosts, Gags, and Growing Up
Underneath the goofy premise and paranormal hijinks, Clinger actually has a beating heart. It’s a story about moving on—literally from a relationship, metaphorically from grief, and occasionally from the corporeal world.
Robert’s ghostly obsession isn’t just a horror trope; it’s a metaphor for anyone who’s ever been trapped in a toxic relationship. Fern’s journey isn’t about vanquishing a ghost—it’s about reclaiming her life from someone who refused to let go.
The film even manages moments of genuine sweetness amid the absurdity. Fern’s interactions with her family and her decision to choose herself over romance give Clinger more emotional depth than you’d expect from a movie that also includes ghost-punching.
It’s not just about killing your clingy ex—it’s about killing your own fear of being alone.
The Humor: Morbidly Adorable
The jokes in Clinger land because they’re self-aware. The film knows it’s ridiculous and revels in it. Every ghostly gag is paired with just enough sincerity to keep it from floating off into full parody.
When Robert enlists other ghosts to help murder Fern, it plays like a supernatural support group gone horribly wrong. When Fern’s ghost-hunting coach breaks out prescription “see-the-dead” pills, you don’t question the logic—you just admire the commitment.
It’s dark humor at its finest: making you laugh at situations that should be terrifying. Like love, death, and the awkward limbo between the two.
Final Thoughts: Love Hurts (and Sometimes It Haunts)
Clinger might not have the polish of a big-budget studio film, but what it lacks in gloss, it makes up for in guts—figuratively and occasionally literally. It’s charmingly weird, surprisingly heartfelt, and unapologetically campy.
In a world full of grim, self-serious horror films, Clinger reminds us that sometimes the best scares come with a punchline. It’s Ghost for the Snapchat generation—a love story that proves that sometimes, letting go really does take an exorcism.
By the end, you’ll be smiling, shaking your head, and maybe checking your closet for overly affectionate apparitions.
Final Score: 8/10
A hauntingly hilarious breakup comedy with spirit—literally. Sweet, spooky, and refreshingly un-dead inside.
