A lot of us are haunted by our past, and unfortunately, there are some demons that can't be outrun.
I've been a teacher for almost fifteen years and I see kids drowning in trauma they simply aren't equipped (or ready) to deal with. Hell, after the recent loss of my grandmother, I've been dealing with some shit I don't think I'll ever truly get over.
But what's really f--king me up lately? I haven't been watching any movies. None. And the reason why...well, you're reading it. I've been so deep in the f--king hole (not the f--king hole, mind you) I don't know what to do anymore.
Like, this movie? The one I'm finally ready to discuss?
I saw it back in my f--king thirties.
What's left of my memory of It: Chapter Two currently floats around in my head like a bad dream/dead kid in the sewer, so at this point the best I could give you are the highlights. After almost thirty years...away?...Pennywise is back again in Derry, being an even bigger dick than before. While he's always taken pleasure in terrorizing the town's most vulnerable (and typically youngest) residents, when we meet this latest version, he's feasting on someone a bit older for a change. I guess even murderous clowns can't eat off the children's menu forever.
Mike, possibly the last black man in Maine, is the only member of The Losers Club still holding it down in New England, and upon sniffing out Pennywise's return, rallies the troops Thundercats-style.
Shocking absolutely no one, there's not a grown-up Loser stoked to head home, but even if it's impossibly reluctant, most of them make the trip.
Quickly we see that while they've all moved away, none of them have really moved on. Just the phone call from Mike is enough to obviously f--k them sideways. Also readily apparent, is how f--king stellar the casting is. Ten years from now, an undead James Dean will probably play all characters in all movies, so this um, practical effect of careful casting qualifies as straight movie magic.
(Especially when someone in that cast is as sexy as Jessica Chastain)
I've been a teacher for almost fifteen years and I see kids drowning in trauma they simply aren't equipped (or ready) to deal with. Hell, after the recent loss of my grandmother, I've been dealing with some shit I don't think I'll ever truly get over.
But what's really f--king me up lately? I haven't been watching any movies. None. And the reason why...well, you're reading it. I've been so deep in the f--king hole (not the f--king hole, mind you) I don't know what to do anymore.
Like, this movie? The one I'm finally ready to discuss?
I saw it back in my f--king thirties.
Mike, possibly the last black man in Maine, is the only member of The Losers Club still holding it down in New England, and upon sniffing out Pennywise's return, rallies the troops Thundercats-style.
Shocking absolutely no one, there's not a grown-up Loser stoked to head home, but even if it's impossibly reluctant, most of them make the trip.
Quickly we see that while they've all moved away, none of them have really moved on. Just the phone call from Mike is enough to obviously f--k them sideways. Also readily apparent, is how f--king stellar the casting is. Ten years from now, an undead James Dean will probably play all characters in all movies, so this um, practical effect of careful casting qualifies as straight movie magic.
(Especially when someone in that cast is as sexy as Jessica Chastain)
