So, how does one pregame for thirty-one days of cinematic terror and scares? If you answered "by watching another damn horror film," then you win about twenty Pennywise bucks my friend.
Don't worry, they can be redeemed in any work connected to the Stephen King macroverse. Plus, they float!
It's a rainy day in Derry, Maine, and young George Denbrough is out racing a paper sailboat down the street that his older brother Bill has crafted for him. Unfortunately, Bill is under the weather, and his decision to stay in bed while his sibling sets off to have fun, would prove to be a tragic one, as "Georgie" never returns. Approximately one year later, Bill and his group of friends and cohorts begin to experience visions and find themselves in grave danger that seem all too real to anybody but themselves, and most seem to involve a malevolent, bloodthirsty spirit that commonly takes the appearance of a clown. Putting the pieces together and digging through decades' worth of Derry's history, the children determine that something is out there killing the younger generation of the town's residents, and that if nobody else can see or bother to stop this menace, then they will.
When it comes to the works of famed Maine writer Richard Bach-......er, Stephen King, none have disturbed or frightened me any more than his infamous 1986 novel It. Despite sporting a simple, if not incredibly effective title, the book clocks in at over eleven hundred pages, making the piece his second-longest work to date (The Stand holds the top spot). When you have finally managed to make it through the entire ordeal, it isn't uncommon to feel emotionally and physically wiped out, though not without some sense of satisfaction over the sheer enjoyment of its demented content and caring for our small band of protagonists. Naturally, someone in the realm of Hollywood (specifically ABC) was hoping to capture these same feelings on the big or small screen. Four years later, fans were treated to a miniseries that would condense the lengthy piece of fiction into what was, at the end of the day, basically a stretched out three-hour-long feature film. Numerous memories of 1990's It are forever planted in my mind, including being on vacation in Ocean City, Maryland with family and seeing Tim Curry's portrayal of Pennywise scare the absolute hell out of me during a random moment or two of free time. Sadly, that aspect about the previous iteration of It is one of the very few things that doesn't age like moldy cheese, and first time viewers of the Tommy Lee Wallace effort from twenty-seven years ago (talk about a warped take on life imitating art) will likely find themselves more unintentionally amused than aghast.
Perhaps what is more debatably horrifying than anything found in the adaptation that gave us THIS piece of cinematic gold is the near ten-year-long mess of a background that 2017's It had trying to get off the ground. Initially, Cary Fukunaga (True Detective, Beasts of No Nation) was attached as not just director, but as a co-writer on the screenplay as well. Despite still receiving a writing credit, for 2017's It, the dreaded "creative differences" excuse spelled the end for the guy staying on board and in the big man's chair, though Warner Bros and New Line Cinema did not take very long to find a replacement in the form of Argentinian director Andres Muschietti, whose 2013 picture Mama grossed at least nine and a half times its smaller budget to make it one of that year's most surprising successes. It is a shame that Fukunaga's full vision of It will never see the light of day, though if one is to dig deep enough on the internet, you can see that multiple elements of his script did manage to creep their way into the final product.
And how is the aforementioned finished print of the motion picture that has sold more presale tickets than any other scary movie in history (yes, this includes Sex in the City 2)? As a whole, this big screen release may go down in history as one of the more triumphant efforts in the realm of King-related adaptations. It does take a few detours from the source material, though the parts that are omitted will draw the ire of only the most pure of devotees. Beloved works of fiction such as these, be they ones sent to theaters or to television (AMC's Preacher comes to mind), should primarily be about capturing enough of the vibe and spirit that made them runaway successes. This is what has helped The Walking Dead stay afloat for so many years, despite taking several detours from Robert Kirkman own ideas and arcs. After all, the 1990 miniseries lifted a large chunk of its dialogue and sequences from the book that was released beforehand, and is chastised by a lot of the newer generation and viewers who were never lucky enough to catch it on ABC. Memorable moments such as the death of George Denbrough and Beverly Marsh (played excellently by relative newcomer and Amy Adams lookalike Sophia Ellis) bearing witness to a rather horrific sequence in her bathroom, are handled infinitely better than anyone could have expected. If you are not a fan of violence against children, or even seeing them in frequent moments of seemingly inescapable peril, this can make for an uncomfortable watch.
On the topic of the aforementioned kids, the chemistry between the seven of them is nothing short of phenomenal. I sincerely hope that someone must reward casting director Rich Delia with either a bonus on his paycheck, or at the very least a pint or two at the local pub. Every memorable character, from smart-assed Richie Tozier (portrayed by Stranger Things' Finn Wolfhard) to the abusive, eerily-protective Alvin Marsh, is handled rather exceptionally. The finished draft a large chunk of time helping the audience get to know and care for these youngsters, and the argument can be made that this iteration of It gets the subtlety of the novel also serving as a coming-of-age story down better than even the printed work did. There is a selective amount from the antagonists' side that I wished had received more screen time (seriously, can someone give Patrick Hockstetter the love that his deranged self deserves?), but it amounts to a very small complaint in the grand scheme of things. Kudos to Fukunaga and other screenplay writers Gary Dauberman and Chase Palmer for crafting a script that manages to make purists forgive the fact that this iteration of the story is set in the 1980s instead of three decades prior. They not only keep the references/love letters feeling genuine, but also realize that most children over the past several decades were unapologetically foul-mouthed and had far more problems besides having the courage to ask a girl out.
Now, before one passes judgement and says that I seem to be doing nothing but heaping endless praise upon this picture, I do have several complaints that I feel are necessary to point out. While Bill Skarsgard is exceptional as Pennywise, his moments of terrorizing are brought down a tiny bit by an unfortunate amount of CGI. The designs are grand, but what's wrong with going the Greg Nicotero or Tom Savini route these days? It's also worth pointing out that there are a LOT of jump scares in this, and even if theirs are more well-crafted than most other flicks out there (the segment involving the kids watching a projector managed to get a legitimate "JESUS!" out of me), they still do feel a bit excessive. And I'm sorry, but as oddly entertaining as someone like Henry Bowers is, Stephen King does tend to write a lot of his younger antagonists the same way.
While It is not the most faithful of adaptations (and the faults, though not major, are very noticeable), the second page-to-screen version of Stephen King's beloved novel does ultimately shine rather brightly, even in the darkest of corridors. Perhaps this could sound rather morbid, but I greatly look forward to children between the ages of seven and twelve catching this in some way shape or form and being scared absolutely shitless like I was when I first caught the miniseries back in the day. It's a darn good movie that serves as a good precursor to arguably the most exhilarating and fabulously fun month of the year, and along with wide releases such as Get Out and The Witch, helps further prove my point that mainstream horror is the furthest thing from dead and can still elicit some emotions from audiences who have long missed those feelings of being scared.
After all, don't you want that?
Don't you want it?
Well, now that I am back, stay tuned for this year's Unseen Terror marathon, which is coming sooner than you think...
