It Chapter Two

Director: Andy Muschietti
Starring: Jessica Chastain, James McAvoy, Bill Hader, Isaiah Mustafa, Jay Ryan, James Ransone, Andy Bean, Sophia Lillis, Jaeden Martell, Finn Wolfhard, Chosen Jacobs, Jeremy Ray Taylor, Jack Dylan Grazer, Wyatt Oleff, Bill Skarsgård
Running Time: 170 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Endings have never been Stephen King's strong suit. This is worth mentioning since It Chapter Two seems to allude to that numerous times with a wink and a nod, as if audiences were already going into Andy Muschietti's sequel to his really great 2017 film adaptation of King's epic novel prepared for disappointment. After all, they've experienced it before, with 1990's underwhelming It TV miniseries having a particularly problematic second half marred by a wretched conclusion. But to lay the blame entirely at King's feet rather than the filmmakers tasked with translating his work through the years, isn't exactly fair.

You need only see The Mist or The Shawshank Redemption to realize how taking creative license with King's material can yield extremely satisfying results that enhance the themes of his storytelling. Muschietti's It was one of the good ones, delivering a Stand By Me meets Stranger Things vibe bolstered by the 80's era setting, perfectly calibrated child performances, and Bill Skarsgård's demonic turn as Pennywise The Clown. Part-horror, part coming-of-age nostalgia, you could call it the quintessential King adaptation in how it streamlines the author's over-indulgences while accenting his strengths.

Chapter Two was always going to be challenging in that it couldn't be a period piece with the same young actors, unless there's a big deviation from the novel preventing the inevitable time jump that sees all the roles recast with adult counterparts. Plus, there's just something about kids at that age being confronted with supernatural horror, just as their imaginations and emotions are already running rampant. Not only does everything seem more important during adolescence, but the stakes just feel higher when pre-teens experience a loss of innocence, forcing them to grow into who they'll eventually become, whether they're ready or not.

Now, we find out exactly who these kids become in a solid, if a little messy, sequel that does a lot right in avoiding many expected pitfalls. It helps that the same director returns with a nearly identical vision, and while it may take viewers a bit to get acclimated to the cast, Muschietti employs a very similar structure that works heavily in its favor, making for an effective, but undeniably overlong experience. But it's a testament to him that the nearly three-hour running time doesn't feel like the drag it so easily could have.

It's 2016 in Derry, Maine when a man is brutally attacked by a gang of homophobic youths at the town's carnival and thrown off a bridge, into the waiting arms of the murderous Pennywise (Skarsgård). After investigating the crime, Mike Hanlon (Isaiah Mustafa) realizes the clown has returned 27 years later and takes it upon himself to contact childhood friends Bill Denbrough (James McAvoy), Beverly Marsh (Jessica Chastain), Ben Hanscom (Jay Ryan), Richie Tozier (Bill Hader), Eddie Kaspbrak (James Ransone) and Stanley Uris (Andy Bean), summoning them back home to honor the promise they all made in 1989 as members of the Losers' Club to kill the clown if he ever returned.

All but Stan arrive back in Derry, but soon discover they only have partial memories of what occurred over two decades ago. But with Mike's help, everything comes flooding back and they're soon tormented by Pennywise with hallucinations from their own past and visions of the future, even as their tormentor seeks out new victims. Making matters worse is that teen sociopath Henry Bowers (Teach Grant) survived his fall into the well and is out for revenge, having recently escaped the mental hospital where he's been confined for his father's murder. Formulating a plan to stop Pennywise for good, the gang will have to make sacrifices of their own, retracing their steps as kids, and coming face-to-face with the painful memories they'd rather have remain buried. Only then, can they be prepared for what could be their final confrontation with Pennywise.

The film's opening is almost shockingly violent, and a reminder that this was a story that never played it safe or compromised in its first installment, and certainly not now, with the characters having long aged out of childhood. Homophobic attacks and sexual abuse aren't usually the first things that come to mind when considering King's catalogue, and while this entry does seem to be unusually hung up on the former, Muschietti deserves credit again for revolving Pennywise's supernatural reign of terror around the true-to-life challenges his victims face. Like its prequel, it doesn't hold back, again earning an 'R' which admittedly carried more of an impact the first time around with a cast comprised entirely of kids. While the genuine sense of danger, the ear for how the gang talked and felt, and Pennywise's attacks heightened the scare factor of the 2017 film, this seems more like a reunion, or greatest hits compilation of all the scariest story beats and scenes from that outing with a new cast.

The more the action gets going, the better it gets, as after all pleasantries are exchanged and we get a deeper read on the characters, you start to appreciate the tiny details and continuity that link the adult losers club protagonists to their childhood counterparts. Whether it's Bill's guilt over little brother Georgie's death at the hands of Pennnywise, Beverly's abusive upbringing, Ben's impossible crush on her, Richie's inability to fit in, or the long-term consequences of Eddie's terminally overprotective mother.

To its benefit, the narrative is flashback-heavy, cutting back and forth between the past and present, filling in details we weren't previously privy to, which takes some pressure off the new faces to top their predecessors. The biggest surprise is just how much the younger originals are in this, even if some of their scenes carry a visual awkwardness resulting from them having noticeably aged a couple of years. But mostly, it's done well, with each character's 2016 story mirroring the 1989 version, bolstering the unifying the two installments while further linking the chains that connect their traumatic childhood and adult experiences.

If there's one thing everyone knew we needed in this sequel, it was Jessica Chastain stepping in to continue Sophia Lillis' extraordinary work as Beverly. Rarely does a fan casting choice feel so obviously right on every level, and when the possibility of her playing the part suddenly became real, that hook was reason enough to continue. She doesn't disappoint, transforming young Bev's quirks into a darker, more psychologically wounded woman, while still retaining the character's tomboy spirit. In other words, she delivers exactly as predicted, with the added bonus of that uncanny physical resemblance to Lillis. Her and James McAvoy predictably shine, with the latter most registering when he needs to confront guilt-ridden Bill's mental anguish over his responsibility in Georgie's death.

Bill's career as a writer also becomes a clever meta device to reference Stephen King's aforementioned battles with endings, with the author himself even getting in on the joke with one of his more memorable screen cameos. The rest of the cast have varying degrees of success, with Bill Hader channeling the goofy eccentricities younger counterpart Finn Wolfhard brought to Richie and infusing it with an angrier adult sensibility. The bond between Ben and Beverly is revisited, this time with Jay Ryan attempting to project the formally awkward, bullied overweight new kid's insecurities as a handsome, successful architect. This sub-plot, which works better in flashbacks then present-day, should have been deeply affecting, but Ryan's kind of bland opposite Chastain, thus undercutting its impact as the story's big redemptive arc. There's also a distracting exposition dump involving Mike's theories on Pennywise's origins that make little sense and should have been excised entirely.

The cast does gel, just not to the level the kids did in the previous film, causing viewers to possibly readjust their expectations for a sequel already saddled with the burden of having to follow one of the best recent King adaptations. But Muscietti manages to tie things together at the film's most important point, and an extremely long third act where the narrative should be losing steam ends up being its highlight, aided in part by Skarsgård's less present, but still scary, performance as Pennywise and a strangely compelling final showdown wherein the script simultaneously juggles numerous narratives in the past and present. If nothing else, it's actually a well-edited three hours that doesn't leave you with that sinking feeling of disappointment prevalent in so many of the author's multi-part adaptations. Still a far cry from its first chapter, It's second half functions well enough as a companion piece to prove it was a story worth finishing.     

Knives Out

Director: Rian Johnson
Starring: Daniel Craig, Chris Evans, Ana de Armas, Jamie Lee Curtis, Michael Shannon, Don Johnson, Toni Collette, Lakeith Stanfield, Katherine Langford, Jaeden Martell, Christopher Plummer, Frank Oz, K Callan, Noah Segan, M. Emmet Walsh
Running Time: 130 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

**Warning: The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers**

Rian Johnson's Knives Out distinguishes itself from just about any other recent mainstream film by filling a massive void. It actually feels necessary, resurrecting a sub-genre many have probably forgotten even existed. And in the process, he not only improves the formula, but reminds us just how thrilling a good old fashioned murder mystery can be, especially when executed with this much precision and ingenuity. It's easy to believe there are fewer big screen mysteries because the level of difficulty is so high, both in delivering a satisfying, unpredictable script and directing so many different actors sharing the same scenes. Johnson greatly excels at this, and while its closest cinematic relatives would seem to be something like Clue or Deathtrap, you'd have to be careful not to similarly categorize this as a "whodunnit?"

An inaccurate "whodunnit?" hook would immediately set audiences up for a big reveal or ending twist that may or may not work depending upon whether we feel the culprit is suitably surprising. The players in Johnson's game don't feel like chess pieces to merely be moved across the board until we're left with a killer, but multi-dimensional characters whose motivations and actions make them interesting and complex enough to carry a morality tale all of their own. It's also doubles as a scathing, satirical commentary about wealth and privilege, rightfully earning every comparison it's gotten to Best Picture winner, Parasite, with which it would make an intriguing double-feature.

By getting the"who" question out the way by its mid-point, Johnson takes the pressure off, freeing the script up to focus instead on the "how" and "why." And it's there when you become completely absorbed by the story, recognizing that unlike previous ensemble mysteries, we actually have someone worth rooting for. The story's focus never leaves her, from the first frame up until the last, granting audiences one of the strongest protagonists you could hope to find at the center of such insanity.

When wealthy crime novelist Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer) is found dead with his throat slit in the family's Massachusetts mansion on his 85th birthday, an anonymous tip sends famed private detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) to the residence suspecting foul play. He's joined by Detective Elliott (Lakeith Stanfield) and Trooper Wagner (Noah Segan), local police who are more than ready to rule it a suicide as they begin questioning the eccentric Thrombeys, many of whom Blanc catches in lies and suspects would have strong motives to murder the ailing patriarch.

Leading up to his death, Harlan had seriously strained relationships with most of the family, mainly due to them freeloading off his fortune. He had just fired youngest son Walt (Michael Shannon) from his publishing company, threatened to expose that son-in-law Richard (Don Johnson) was cheating on daughter Linda (Jamie Lee Curtis) and cut off daughter-in-law and hippie lifestyle guru Joni's (Toni Colette's) allowance, which helps pay for granddaughter Meg's (Katherine Langford) college tuition. On the night of his death, he also had a heated verbal confrontation with black sheep grandson, Ransom (Chris Evans). His only confidante was Harlan's nurse and caregiver, Marta Cabrera (Ana de Armas), who soon becomes Blanc's biggest ally in the investigation when he realizes she often hears and sees everything. But even she has a secret, along with an unfortunate propensity to vomit when lying. But as Blanc gets closer to the truth, the Thrombeys may instead end up tearing each other apart over the contents of Harlan's will.

Supposedly, one of Johnson's biggest inspirations writing this was the classic detective series, Columbo, and you can really see how that would be, as the blueprint does faintly echo the style of mysteries you'd expect to see on that show, one of tv's most underrated crime dramas. In it, a seemingly clueless, schlubby-looking title murder detective (incomparably played by Peter Falk) would brilliantly connect all these dots to eventually come to the conclusion of how exactly the perpetrator committed the crime. That person's identity can often be telegraphed early on, making the details the reveal the main event, heavily favoring character development over a traditional "whodunnit."

That series, and especially its classic Steve Spielberg-helmed episode, "Murder By The Book" couldn't have been far from Johnson's mind when deciding to tackle this. Unlike Columbo, Blanc at least seems superficially competent and smoother, if initially unremarkable, as he observes the local officers question each lying family member. We not only get a glimpse of the detective's low-key shrewdness in these moments, but also the clueless and somewhat hilarious selfishness of this dysfunctional family. It's early into the story when we realize Harlan was justifiably sick of all of them, most of whom just so happen to have convenient alibis of some sort. But while the Thrombeys claim they view his nurse Marta as a member of their family and would do anything to help her, the validity of that promise gets shakier the more information we glean about what they truly value.

The more we discover about Marta, the easier it is to see why Harlan holds her in such high regard. Johnson's device of having the character vomit upon lying is crazily brilliant, adding another layer of tension to each scene she shares with Detective Blanc and eventually Chris Evans' obnoxious character, who eventually reveals himself as both more and less than he appears. When Johnson pulls the rug out from under us far earlier than expected and the narrative shifts to Marta's survival, she tries against her better judgment to hide her horrible mistake and survive in a shark tank full of loony Thrombeys. Of course, Blanc is more than a few steps ahead in recognizing she's the key to him piecing together the remains of the puzzle. And this is exactly the kind of quirky, outside-of-the-box role we've been waiting for Daniel Craig to take in his 007 off time, reminding just how much timing and range he demonstrates in supporting character parts, especially something as quirky and dryly comedic as this. 

Ana de Armas is the real discovery here as Marta, managing to remain the film's honest, moral center even when being forced into dishonesty. A shy medical caretaker who just wants to do right, what makes de Armas' performance special is how that quality consistently peaks through in all her actions and mannerisms, no matter how frightened the character seems or how unpredictably insane things get around her. Marta keeps finding these hidden reserves of strength, even as all the other reveal their weaknesses, embarassingly trying to manipulate her. Spoiled, black sheep Ransom tops that list, with Chris Evans relishing in this guy's inadequecies and stealing nearly every scene he's in, uproariously clashing with every member of his family, each of whom hate him a little more than the next. The feeling is more than mutual, leading to his now infamous scene in which he individually singles all of them out with a choice expletive.

Just as you've never seen Craig or Evans like this, Toni Colette similarly surprises as the irresponsible Joni, a flighty Gwyneth Paltrow-like lifestyle guru who owns a GOOP-like company. Her and daughter Meg are clearly set up as the most liberal of the clan, but despite a heated political argument with Don Johnson's ultra-conservative Richard, both reveal themselves as close-minded to Marta's situation as he is. That's most disappointingly true of Meg, whom Katherine Langford plays as her closest confidante, only to quickly turn when Harlan's fortune enters the equation, almost reflexively sucked into the vortex of her self-serving family. It also says a lot that Michael Shannon isn't playing the craziest or most unstable character, but still delivers his fair share of insanity as Harlan's entitled son.

It would almost be too easy if the Thrombeys were all just one-dimensionally terrible people, but they're not, with a few even demonstrating varying degrees of likability. It's that they're priorities are so messed up that make them the story's antagonists and allow us to root for their comeuppance in the end. They're not merely "suspects" and their alleged involvement in the crime, if you could even consider it one, is almost beside the point. This could have been aspect some viewers had problems with, especially those expecting the entire film to revolve around a reveal. We do we get something similar, but better, as Blanc gives a detailed explanation that makes logical sense, while revealing truths about its characters that confirm our investment in them.

The third act helps further establish Marta as the only trustworthy person in Harlan's life, even if no one in the family understands this, as shown by their immediate accusation that she must have been sleeping with him to be left everything in his will. And of course they would think that, given every relationship they've likely had in their lives transactionally revolved around sex or money, rendering them oblivious to how two people could share a connection that doesn't depend on either. Harlan realizes she made a big mistake, but an innocent one that would carry far worse consequences for her illegal immigrant family than a physically incapacitated octogenarian whose relatives treat him like garbage. And the true brilliance in Johnson's screenplay comes to light when we discover it wasn't her mistake at all, and Blanc's unraveling of Ransom's plan comes as a direct result of both her skills as a nurse and genuinely good heart.

When the film's sensational final minutes expose Ransom as the sociopath he is, but the rest are barely any better, as Marta stares down on them from the balcony of her newly bequeathed estate. The Thrombeys are left scrambling in their former driveway, finding themselves for the first time on the outside looking in. Or, exactly where they belong. It's a twist as worthy of Rod Serling as Agatha Christie, and a reminder of the tightrope walk required to successfully pull off socio-political satire. Johnson lets the characters take the reigns, and the rest organically falls into place, as the best genre deconstructions do. The right person is left standing because she's deserving. It's a kick in the gut and a reward for viewers paying attention to all the details. Not so bad for a director still inexplicably being raked over the coals for a certain "controversial" Star Wars entry. But with a razor-sharp script and an eclectic, super-talented cast all being used to their maximum potential, it's impossible to deny this as a far better platform for his talents. Bring on the sequel.