Andrés Muschietti
It

A preliminary reflection, a bit meta-cinematic (apologies for the bad word), on Pennywise. I unsuccessfully tried to convince friends to come see it with me, but in the end, I went to the cinema alone. Seeing then the protagonists, paralyzed by an a priori terror, of something they do not even know or have only glimpsed in a fleeting hallucination, I better understood the greatness of this work by King.

The fear of It is in limine, it is precisely a priori. The terror lies in deciding whether or not to cross a threshold, to face one’s fears. And in the kids who do not want to descend into the depths of the sewers to face their demon, I saw my friends who don’t want to come to the cinema because they are afraid to be afraid.

So, this Chinese box construction seems the most interesting thing about It. It is one of those novel-films that are frightening even without seeing them, for the concept they are based on: the clown, the symbol of childish joy, marred and deformed until it assumes the traits of a sewer demon. The terror is therefore conceptual rather than visual (and much sooner than cinematic, it must be said): people are afraid to watch the film because they fear suddenly finding themselves as children again, defenseless, with no weapons, facing a nightmare turned flesh.

The greatness, and at the same time the simplicity, of this assumption is enough to make a film work. The one from 1990 worked, which was not exactly of exquisite quality, imagine this one. But I would like to make distinctions: the film works because the idea of Pennywise is too big, too ingenious. Every time he appeared on screen, I got chills. Different to say that this It by Andrés Muschietti is a great film. It is not. It is a decent, linear movie, which gives the right space (and also more easily) to the extraordinary idea of Stephen King.

If we want, there are more criticizable aspects than major improvements made. Bluntly, special effects and photography are not comparable to those of 27 years ago; but also the directing is really good, this must be acknowledged to Muschietti. The director puts in a lot of effort and the result is certainly appreciable. But if we look at the structure of the film, trying to think clearly and without considering Pennywise, we cannot fail to recognize the slender and repetitive layout.

Essentially, a series of jump scares, and moreover, telegraphed, slow, predictable ones. From this point of view, the film doesn’t even try to fit with a philological sense into the trends of recent times in the horror field. The strengths, more or less recognized, of works like It Follows, Babadook, The Witch laid precisely in avoiding the now disheartening banality of the surprise scare.

At times even Muschietti seems to try to dodge it, favoring atmospheres, chromatic constructions, and aesthetic playfulness. But in the end, the pushed fear, loaded with hyperbolic music, always returns. And the always identical repetition (that is, with minimal, external variations and not of concept) of this scheme, in the long run, becomes exhausting and loses effectiveness. Much better therefore the final half-hour, when the dynamics change and the kids stop being passive.

Again, a decent film. Also, the construction of the characters is not to be thrown away. Compared to 1990, and obviously drawing from Stranger Things, they always go by bike and swear. Some laughter definitely escapes, especially for Richie’s bold jokes (which is no coincidence played by Finn Wolfhard from Stranger Things), but the sarcasm often turns out to be excessive, too sexually tinged, for 13-year-olds. The irony is manna from heaven in a objectively heavy film like this, but it needed better calibration.

Even the personal portrayals work, but I'm not sure I can say they are better compared to those of 1990. Just as, and we come to the heart of it all, Bill Skarsgård's Pennywise is not comparable to Tim Curry's. For heaven’s sake, it works, but it needs to shriek, to approach its prey frenziedly, to unsheath enormous jaws. He is almost never scary on his own. His image is loaded up by using amputated arms, bloodstains, various amplifications: the clown is giant, has a massive head, more terrifying jaws, sharper teeth. In short, everything is amplified, effectively denaturing the essence of the dancing clown. Or he is accompanied by other monsters: there are zombies, unsettling paintings that come to life, sewers full of corpses. Crutches to support a less effective clown than expected. The representation of the protagonists’ fears is perhaps the weakest part of the film. Basically, zombies and monsters that appear here and there are added. The stratagem may be fine, although less subtle than the small anxieties of the previous film, but so mechanically repeated it becomes cloying.

If we add to all of this that the moral issue of the work, while appreciable, is not exactly fresh and new (children's fear, etc.), it is understood how this film is more a case to be analyzed socially than a great cinematic masterpiece. As with the kids with Pennywise, everything plays out preliminarily. Then when you fall prey to the monster’s jaws, you realize it was our fear nourishing and amplifying it. So for the film It, the fear reaches its acme before entering the hall: the terror of experiencing terror, of becoming defenseless children again entering the monster's lair, without weapons.

6/10