"Nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble."

Rating: 7/10 (28 August 2019)

Is "It" 'very scary'; 'quite scary' or 'not very scary at all'? Well, I would settle on the film being 'pretty bloody scary indeed', if you don't mind(!) Director Andy Muschietti's adaptation of a Stephen King novel, yet to have been given a proper cinematic adaptation to now, is the sort of horror film I find myself being able to get into: rounded protagonists; interesting villains; a real sense of good and evil at play; some genuinely chilling moments and no real reliance on violence to propel the sense you've seen something substantial.
The film depicts the exploits of a group of American children in a small fictitious town in the state of Maine during one, long summer holiday in 1989, wherein they dodge bullies; disagreeable parents and a series of odd visions which play on their barest fears. The film opens with a ghostly rendition of the age-old nursery rhyme "Oranges and Lemons" which, I think, is designed to call to mind Orwell's "1984" wherein it was used as a sort of diegetic overture to the book's depiction of oppression and censorship. Said novel was, of course, about a set of characters living under the yoke of a seemingly unconquerable terror - the likes of which seemed to know your every move and, later on, your inner-most fear...
"It" essentially covers the tale of Billy (Jaeden Lieberher), a gawky looking kid with a stammer and a thin build - think DJ Qualls when he was much younger. During the film's preface, set eight months before the rest of the picture, Billy loses his younger brother on a stormy night when a model boat they build is washed away down their street and into the sewer. There, at the grate, he meets the titular "It" - what appears to be a smooth talking clown with a lazy eye and a devilish grin... Suffice to say, Billy's younger brother doesn't make it home.
Declared missing, and making it his mission to find him having felt responsible for sending him out in the storm, the audience, and not Billy, is playfully allowed to know what awaits those who don't let sleeping dogs lie. The film unfolds in such a way that we learn about dozens, even hundreds of other kids who have gone missing over the centuries in the same town and we realise, chillingly, what we saw in the opening has, in some guise, occurred many-a time before. Consequently, we might feel as if we have seen more than perhaps has been shown.
Billy, having been told in no uncertain terms to move on by his parents, has a group of friends who are, mostly, with him all the way. What is refreshing about the approach here is that a group of people effectively act as the protagonists - all are victims to the monster's stalking and we are spared a lone, increasingly neurotic, lead wading through on their own.
The kids themselves are a pleasingly distinctive bunch: one is a little too sexually aware, but has some wonderfully funny lines; another is crippled by a series of allergies. Beverly (Sophia Lillis) is a red-headed girl with an abusive father, Ben happens to possess a deep understanding of the town having just moved there and had nothing to do but frequent a library. As the film whips along, one does not become lost amidst a sea of supporting acts. Some of the boys' feelings for Beverly, perennially with a key hung around her neck inferring only she can unlock something somewhere, are smoothly mixed into the narrative.
Another easy card the film avoids playing lies in what it considers frightening, both within the confines of the film for the characters and for us, the audience. Muschietti avoids going down a route of throwing things at the screen such as snakes and spiders, or rats, in order to get across the scares. Each of the characters has their own particular fear. Afraid of germs? Then you'll have a leper chase you down the street. Just cut off your hair over the sink because you're scared of attracting unwanted sexual attention? It'll come back up the plug and wrap itself around you. Not fond of the rendition of a particular image in a painting? Chances are it'll stalk you through the corridors of your own home.
These things don't sound especially frightening by themselves, but it is remarkable, for instance, just how creepy your standard zombie-like creature becomes when it's presented within this context. As for the silly oil painting of the old lady playing a flute which we didn't think was especially frightening when we first saw it - well, we don't think the same by the end...
There is even a moment towards the end of the film whereby "It" suddenly seems to morph its legs to form a kind of arachnid creature in a desperate attempt to frighten the characters because, I think, it is assuming that everybody has some sort of rooted fear of insects or whatnot. This sense of reverting to something at a time of desperation in order to win is noticeable and seems to be the director's way of putting it to other film-makers that throwing things at the screen for sake of it just doesn't work. What does work, however, is part one of this double-header - a pretty outstanding horror feature on its own and well worth checking out if you are a fan of the genre.