It: Chapter Two (2019)

Directed by: Andy Muschietti Written by: Gary Dauberman

Two years ago I saw and reviewed the first It film, observing the following:

 Perhaps another good way of selling It, is noting that it duplicates (without resembling) much of what’s effective about Harry Potter. It is a story of kids engaging in unlikely heroics against a magical villain, in the face of worse-than-Malfoy-esque bullying and adult incompetence and cruelty.

In short, while I may have taken issue with some of It’s plot decisions, I was largely captivated by what was essentially a depiction of kids fighting their monster-under-the-bed.

It: Chapter One really could have been a standalone movie. While its ending does lay a foundation for a sequel, said foundation was a dangerous one. It: Chapter Two was set up to be (and is) a rematch between heroes and a villain. Rematches may be great in the world of sport, and over the course of long fictional series (Sherlock Holmes stories, Batman cartoons, etc). But when it comes to standalone films/ brief series originality is necessary. It: Chapter 2‘s creators were thus pinned into a corner.

In fairness to the creators of the It movies, their films are based on an immensely long book (one I admittedly haven’t read). If one ignores the presence of the source, however, its hard to understand where Chapter Two’s creators thought their story could go, when its primary premise was just taking Chapter One’s characters, and aging them into adulthood.

The film’s opening scene is perhaps Chapter Two’s best justification. While the depiction of a homophobic hate crime (committed against a couple played by Taylor Frey and Québecois auteur Xavier Dolan) may not literally be the film’s best scene, it is one of Chapter Two‘s most meaningful moments. Whereas Chapter One depicted kids facing their fears in horrored-up, twentieth-century-Dickensian conditions, Chapter Two could have been about “the issues”: about how fear continues to haunt the film’s protagonists and their society through social and political strife even after they stop seeing dancing, killer clowns. In addition to that scene, this motif is arguably carried out through the adult versions of Beverly (Jessica Chastain) as she faces spousal abuse and Stanley as he deals with being a “coward” (Andy Bean). Overall, however, Chapter Two does not really subvert or expand upon Chapter One, it only revisits it.

My main gripes with Chapter One were its inclusion of more child-stars than it had time to develop and the film’s non-sequitorial use of a love-triangle. These are problems that Chapter Two resolves, but not in a satisfying manner. Two of the films seven protagonists kids, Stanley and Mike go underdeveloped in the first film, despite both being given compelling introductions (Mike in particular). A sequel could have proved a great chance to push either character into the spotlight. As an adult, Mike (Isaiah Mustafa) is in fact given a prominent role, but it is also a bland one; one that fails to build on the character’s initial depth. Adult Mike is essentially a stand in for the viewer and/or narrator, who wisely enables the other characters to self-actualize. Stanley meanwhile, is also painfully underused as an adult, though there’s a revelation in the film’s final scene that perhaps allows for Stanley’s weird writing to be interpreted as subversive exploration of vulnerability and the costs of hero narratives, rather than simple underdevelopment.

As for the love triangle issue (Chapter One presents Beth as crushing on both Ben and Bill), Chapter Two resolves it, but in a soft-bigoted manner. After setting viewers up to think one actor is Ben’s adult incarnation, the camera reveals that adult Ben is in fact a man (Jay Ryan) with a skinnier build (and a different hair color) than the original character, thus undermining the series’ own messaging about body stigma.

Another frustration I had with Chapter Two, was its failure to live up to the original film’s “thorough horror” quality. Chapter One was so terrifying because its characters had more to fear than Pennywise the Dancing Clown (Bill Skarsgard). Parents and bullies helped build Chapter One‘s world into a true nightmare, and no character played a bigger role in this feel than did school bully Henry Bowers (played in the sequel by Teach Grant). Because Chapter Two is not a new story, but a mere rematch, the logic of Pennywise and his aura of fear is known from the film’s start. Therefore, there’s no mystery when Henry shows up in the script. It’s obvious from the get go, he’s a throw in secondary villain, a problem that reaches its peak as Henry’s subplot is abruptly and arbitrarily ended.

            The worst part of It: Chapter Two, however, is also its best. Bill Hader features prominently in the movie as Richie Tozier (the character played by Finn Wolfhard as a kid). Richie, previously introduced as a vulgar, spunky, dork, is presented as growing into a shock comedian. The result is a character who feels like the star of a Saturday Night Live comedy sketch about grown up It kids, rather than an actual imagination of what the kids would be like as adults. An SNL veteran, Hader is excellent in this role, but the role’s existence itself is questionable. Whereas kid-Richie’s rudeness comes across as a coping mechanism, one that fits him into the film’s 80s-horror-aesthetic, adult-Richie’s remarks only distance him from his character’s reality. His scenes feel funny rather than scary. This is best illustrated in a scene in a Chinese restaurant: which both feels tonally out of place for the It saga, and is wonderfully entertaining. 

It: Chapter Two certainly has its moment. Its tragic final lesson about how bravery can take different forms certainly resonated with me, as did (adult-Bill) James McAvoy’s bike scenes. Overall, however, the film is a reminder that sequels require more than: 1) the mere passing of time, 2) the hiring of adult actors with varying degrees of uncanny resemblance to the kids they are “portraying”) and 3) the presence of a popular villain. Sequels, of course, will never be as original as their predecessors, but they need to be approached as if they truly are “new” films. It is only when they are written with such underlining inspiration, that sequels can really feel alive.  `

It: Chapter One (2017)

Directed by: Andy Muschietti, Written by:  Chase Palmer, Carey Fukunaga, Gary Dauberman

Disclaimer: This review treats “It” as a standalone work. I acknowledge that it is an adaptation of a novel by an iconic writer, and recognize that this film’s overall merits cannot be weighed without considering the parameters set by the original text.  

 

            For the time being at least, It is a cultural phenomenon. James Corden featured It’s primary antagonist, Pennywise the dancing clown, in a humorous sketch, The Beaverton has used it to skewer anti-PC demagogue Jordan Peterson, and Pennywise costumes are now on sale for Halloween. In a way this is surprising. “It” is not exactly an original name for a horror film (particularly with recent, more dynamic uses of the title in mind), and a scary clown is not exactly an original monster (anything that’s interesting about Pennywise is presented in a way that is three-fold more interesting by various iterations of the Joker).

As I began to watch the film, I thus worried it would be banal by horror standards. The story wastes no time in introducing its titular clown and does nothing to conceal his dark side (if he even has a non-dark side). Instead, it turns quickly to graphic violence. As the film progresses we learn a bit more about Pennywise (ie he is not just a murderous clown, but a multi-faceted monster), but not enough to make him a particularly memorable personality or psychologically captivating villain.

It’s my belief that horror films, whether they be “high-brow” or “low-brow” are particularly likely to be good watches, as almost by definition they contain suspense and plot twists. This means they hit that ever present standard for good storytelling: unpredictability. Pennywise, for the most part, does not help It check the unpredictability box. Luckily, however, there is a lot more to It than its most advertised personality.

TV series Stranger Things, can partially credit its popularity to its invocation of nostalgia for 1980s culture and classic sci-fi/horror tropes. While I found the ultimate subtlety of (the first season of) Stranger Things made it underwhelming, It’s over-the-top repackaging Stranger Things’ qualities proved successful. One not-too-subtle overlap between the two works is cast member Finn Wolfhard. While Wolfhard was seemingly given thick glasses in It for the soul purpose of clarifying that he is not in fact Mike from stranger things, his character, Richie, is more Lucas (Mike’s sometimes hot-headed, best friend), than Mike, albeit with a magnified personality. Everything about Richie signifies “best-friend” rather than protagonist, yet the character is nonetheless one of the film’s most memorable personas: the writing of the role is perhaps It’s greatest strength.

Richie is part of a friend group of what ultimately turns out to be seven kids. Each of these kids is given at least somewhat of a backstory, and while not all of them are well developed, the ambition of introducing and bringing them all together is another of It’s strong points. It should be noted, however, that the film seems to rely on (an albeit somewhat self aware form of) tokenization. Only one of the seven kids is not-white, and although he has a very compelling backstory, he is absent for much of the middle of the film. Only one of the seven kids is a girl, and she serves as a love interest for two of the film’s male characters. Whether this should be read as a rebuke or excessive-reinforcement of the traditional imagining of a token-female-character as a love interest for geeky, male heroes is a question I imagine, that cannot easily or unambiguously be answered.

So in essence, It is a good horror film due to the flawed but still compelling portrayal of its seven young heroes. That seems like a bit of a weird way to sing the praises of a horror film. Luckily, It, like all good horror movies, situates its characters in a mysterious, terrifying universe, even if that mystery and terror is not entirely the creation of its central villain. The film also features archetypal bullies and (all degrees of) bad parenting. Perhaps another good way of selling It, is noting that it duplicates (without resembling) much of what’s effective about Harry Potter. It is a story of kids engaging in unlikely heroics against a magical villain, in the face of worse-than-Malfoy-esque bullying and adult incompetence and cruelty.

I’ve heard It described as more gross than scary. For the most part that is an apt description, as the film’s villain’s lack of subtlety limits the amount of nail-biting one will do in the lead up to his attacks. While viewers should be aware of potentially triggering content in the film (strong allusion to sexual violence against a minor), non-horror fans should not be put off from seeing It. If you are interested in ambitious narratives, and enjoy tales of rag-tag friend groups, seeing all 2 hours and 15 minutes of It is absolutely worth your while.