For the most part, It: Chapter Two follows the adult members of the Losers Club. As kids, they defeated Pennywise, the shape-shifting clown that resides in Derry, Maine. 30 years later, they have successful lives, and for the most part, their memories of childhood are cloudy. After it becomes apparent that Pennywise has risen from his long slumber, Mike Hanlon (the only member who stayed in Derry) calls the other Losers, hoping to build a team that will destroy Pennywise once and for all.
The first 10–15 minutes of a film are monumentally important. It’s the job of a filmmaker to hook audience members. In this case, director Andy Muschietti opens the film like a man possessed. It: Chapter Two introduces us to Adrian Mellon and Don Hagarty, a gay couple who reside in Derry. While trying to enjoy a night at the fairgrounds, a homophobic group corners and beats the couple to a pulp. I must be honest: This opening will offend many viewers. In terms of its violence and language, this opening is the stuff that reality is made of.
This sequence is short, but Muschietti makes the most of every second. It’s not just gore for gore’s sake. It’s social commentary wrapped up in the guise of a horror film. Consider the homosexual couple: They aren’t caricatures. They are a loving, selfless unit filled with peaceful aspects. This efficiency enables us to see the couple’s true colors. From there, we are fed to the dogs.
This opening, while graphic, is the definition of brutally honest. It holds a mirror up to our flawed society, showcasing the unnecessary forms of homophobia that lie within. For me, this theme of small town ugliness hits home. As a resident of small town America, I see traces of homophobia. I hear the harsh language. I see the anger that resides within the bodies of homophobic individuals. This kind of prejudice is still alive, particularly in rural settings like Derry.
The best sources of cinema take real life aspects and portray the events through the prism of fantastical storytelling. When done correctly, cinematic scenes become a form of social expression. Here we have a beautiful portrait of small-town America, which is often believed to be a location of harmony. But in classic Stephen King fashion, we realize that appearances are deceiving. As a society, we pretend that everything is okay, even though specific demographics are being trampled to the point of no return. Like King, Muschietti understands that often times, the monsters of reality are scarier than the creatures of narrative mythology.