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.     

It

Director: Andy Muschietti
Starring: Jaeden Lieberher, Bill Skarsgård, Jeremy Ray Taylor, Sophia Lillis, Finn Wolfhard, Wyatt Oleff, Chosen Jacobs, Jack Dylan Grazer, Nicholas Hamilton, Jackson Robert Scott
Running Time: 135 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

The experience you had watching a movie can often far surpass the movie itself, frequently causing confusion between the two. Strangely, such an experience accompanied my early 90's viewing of the miniseries adaptation of Stephen King's It. And while I exactly remember the when, why and where, it's more difficult to recall a single thing about the actual movie other than it being overlong and mostly terrible, as the King TV adaptations tended to be. But that second half featuring the child characters as adults was particularly disappointing, sucking whatever entertainment value remained from watching Tim Curry's evil clown wreck havoc in this small Maine town. And while it definitely wasn't scary, it's hard to point to any miniseries of the era that was.

It's fitting to discuss memories and nostalgia when examining the many merits of Andy Muschietti's reimagined vision of It since that's how he makes this interpretation connect. And if there's one thing we've learned about the frequently unadaptable works of Stephen King, it's that you need to find a way in. His mind goes to these strange, weird places, and unless the filmmaker can find a suitable entrance, it can all seem kind of ridiculous. In this case, that door was in front of our faces the whole time: Stand By Me-era King meets 80's Spielberg by way of Stranger Things. At the risk of simplifying it, that's the key, and the rest of the pieces just fall into place.

Anyone doubting the extent of Stranger Things' pop culture stranglehold needn't look any further than It, since this couldn't or wouldn't have unfolded the way it does without that series. But it would all mean nothing if they didn't put in the work and get it right, taking an approach that's exactly appropriate for material that now suddenly feels purposeful, possessing a palpable sense of time and place entirely absent from its predecessor. If someone asks what this is about, you can now actually tell them with a clear conscience. But why bother, when the film does such a magnificent job conveying that all on its own, earning a spot alongside the likes of Stand by Me, Carrie, The Shining, The Shawshank Redemption and Dolores Claiborne on any essential list of the most successful cinematic King adaptations.

It's October 1988 in Derry, Maine when nervously stuttering Bill Denbrough (Jaeden Lieberher) makes his 7-year-old little brother Georgie (Jackson Robert Scott) a paper sailboat, which he loses down a sewer drain in the middle of a rain storm. While attempting to retrieve it, he comes face-to face with a terrifying clown who calls himself "Pennywise The Dancing Clown" (Bill Skarsgård). After initially earning Georgie's trust, he viciously attacks the boy, dragging him into the sewer, never to be seen again.

Flashforward to the following year and Bill hasn't given hope finding his little brother, despite his parents' and much of the town believing him to be dead. But when there's another mysterious disappearance under similar circumstances, Bill enlists the help of his friends, foul-mouthed Richie Tozier (Finn Wolfhard), asthmatic Eddie Kaspbrak (Jack Dylan Grazer) and reluctant Stan Uris (Wyatt Oleff), to to go to a local marsh called the Barrens and investigate the possibility Georgie's still alive. While there, they encounter teen bully Henry Bowers (Nicholas Hamilton) and his gang who have been tormenting overweight new kid, Ben Hanscom (Jeremy Ray Taylor), whose hours of research in the Derry library has provided the group with more than a few ideas about these child abductions.

Joining them is another Bowers Gang victim, orphaned African American student Mike Hanlon (Chosen Jacobs), and the only female member of what eventually becomes "The Losers' Club," tomboy Beverly Marsh (Sophia Lillis), whose rumored promiscuity has also made her a bullying target, even as a smitten Bill and Ben compete for her affections. Soon, the kids all realize they've had visions of the same clown, the sadistic Pennywise, who assumes the appearance of whatever they fear most. And each of them have personal demons to overcome before attempting to stop this unpredictable entity who knows just how to exploit those fears, aiming to resume the reign of terror he wrecks on the children of Derry every 27 years. To beat him they'll have to bravely band together, despite the clown's best efforts to drive them apart.

Freed from many of the creative constraints that hampered previous King horror adaptations, this one rips the band-aid off right away, with a declarative opening sequence that lets you know this It means business. Shot in a washed-out VHS-era haze and backed by an unnerving, foreboding score by Benjamin Wallfisch, an unmistakable atmosphere is established that was certainly missing in the original. An "R" rating isn't necessarily a must for any horror entry, but in this specific case it really bolsters the material, at least due in part to the fact that we're just not used seeing characters this age acting authentically and being terrorized to the degree they are here. Much like Stranger Things and 80's classics that inspired it, the young actors actually look and behave like kids, and among a fairly large cast, each are given distinctive personality traits that equip them differently in dealing with the evil clown.

Muschietti masters what so many previous filmmakers adapting King's work have failed to grasp by effectively picking his spots, knowing the trigger buttons for maximum fright, as well as how hard and often to push them. After a terrifyingly graphic introduction, Pennywise's subsequent appearances are strategically placed to count, as the focus turns to building the groundwork of the kids' relationships to each other so when the time comes for that ultimate showdown, we'll care.

The more we get to know the group, the more we eventually start seeing of Pennywise, menacingly played by Bill Skarsgård in a performance that shuts down any and all comparisons to Tim Curry's portrayal, if only because the presentation feels so wildly different this time around. Skarsgård brings an innocent, almost childlike playfulness to him that somehow seems even more sinister and monstrous, as he attempts to meet them on their level. King's story always had the advantage that clowns are inherently creepy, but you can't help think this reckless incarnation is more dangerous, frequently calling to mind the differences between Ledger's and Nicholson's Jokers.

Since Pennywise is used so sparingly in the opening hour, when the time arrives for him to take center stage in the battle with these kids, it actually means something. There are moments of true terror in not only their encounters with Derry's sadistic antagonist (particularly one suspenseful scene involving a slide projector), but in their everyday lives. Darker, more adult elements of King's novel were cleaned up for a suitable network TV presentation over two decades ago such as vicious bullying, child abuse, kidnapping and murder are given a more fully fleshed-out treatment here by Muschietti. Of course none of it would work if not for the casting of these kids, each of whom overdeliver, with one delivering one of the most memorable on screen interpretations of a King character in years.

Jaeden Lieberher ably takes the lead as the reluctant but determined Bill while Jeremy Ray Taylor seems to channel a young, chubby Jerry O'Connell from Stand By Me as chronic bullying victim, Ben. The latter's story arc is sure to remind many of Stranger Things, with Nicholas Hamilton's sociopathic delinquent, Henry, baring more than a passing resemblance to the similarly psychotic Billy from that series' sophomore season. But it's ultimately the work of Sophia Lillis as the abused and ostracized Beverly that makes the strongest connection, both with viewers and the source material.

Handed the most emotionally challenging of the main roles, Beverly carries with her a knowledge and world-weariness that seems years beyond her age, even as she remains paralyzingly stunted and a prisoner of her own fear. Or more accurately, the fear of her evil, abusive father. If ever there was a bridge between the first and second chapters of this saga, it's Lillis who builds it with a performance that basically dictates where that installment needs to go, even prompting many to acknowledge there's no better actress fit to take over that role than Jessica Chastain. Aside from the obvious similarity in looks, that she might be the only one to do it justice speaks volumes about what Lillis accomplishes.

If that casting possibility is the very definition of a no-brainer, figuring out a way to make Chapter 2 as involving will still be the biggest obstacle given King's penchant for sloppy, unrealized endings. There's a reason the most successful cinematic adaptations of the author's work have frequently deviated from their sources in unexpected ways. With this being the narratively stronger section, Muschietti manages to get away with not doing much of that but it'll be intriguing to see what tricks he'll have up his sleeve to further develop the story and characters following the twenty-seven year time jump.

That the ending has us looking forward to that second chapter is something few thought was even possible after the project was announced and then spent some time in pre-production purgatory. And even fewer still could have ever guessed It would become the all-time highest- grossing horror film to date. Watching the last thirty or forty minutes should be a strong reminder why, as that slow, simmering build peaks, and the kids are forced to stare fear straight in his face. And while they do see a terrifying clown, 2017's version of It understands that their true challenge comes in dealing with their own worst fears reflected back at them.