Connect with us

Editorials

The Stanley Effect: Why the Ending of ‘It: Chapter Two’ Doesn’t Work [Spoilers]

Published

on

It: Chapter Two has been out for over two weeks and made over $385 million so far, so I feel like now, finally, I can address the biggest problem I have with the film.

“The ending,” as many characters in the movie like to point out to horror author Bill Denbrough (James McAvoy), “sucks.”

That line is a recurring in-joke for Stephen King fans. King has received his fair share of criticism over the years, and one of the more pervasive accusations is that his set-ups are arguably better than his pay-offs. It is probably one of the better examples, with a terrifying and seemingly universal nightmare about childhood fears coming to life culminating in a weirdly specific mythological ritual involving space turtles and a somewhat underwhelming confrontation with a giant spider.

I knew all of that was coming in It: Chapter Two, so I was ready for the sequel to venture into weirder territory than the first half. What I didn’t know was that, on top of all that strangeness, the filmmakers had decided to throw in one brand new wrinkle that retroactively sullied the whole film that came before it.

Which brings me to Stanley Uris, played in It: Chapter One by Wyatt Oleff and in the follow-up by Andy Bean. In the second half of the story, when Pennywise the Clown reemerges and The Losers Club is recalled to their hometown to finish what they started, everyone returns except Stanley. That’s because Stanley opts to kill himself rather than confront the horrors all over again. He gets the phone call, he immediately goes upstairs, he draws himself a bath, and he ends his own life.

It’s a horrifying tragedy, and it also serves a dramatic function. It reminds us that although the Losers defeated Pennywise at the end of Chapter 1, that confrontation took its toll, and even the thought of going through it again may be too frightening to bear. The stakes are raised right at the beginning of the film, the Losers are already down one member, and although we know he’s not omnipotent, it may be harder to defeat Pennywise now than it ever was before.

But, as we learn at the very end of It: Chapter Two, we didn’t see Stanley’s whole story. In the new movies, Stanley didn’t kill himself because his recovered memories were too much to bear, or because he was so frightened that he made a terrible, instinctive choice. No, it turns out – as Stanely himself reveals in handwritten letters he sent to all the other Losers – he killed himself in an act of pure logic.

Stanley explains that he knew he would be a liability to The Losers, and that his inability to overcome his fears would put them all in danger. So instead of returning to Derry with the rest of his old friends, he made the calculated decision to kill himself, just so it would be easier for his childhood chums to murder a demon clown.

In the movie Bill reads Stanley’s letter and smiles, because apparently it gives Stanley’s tragic demise a heroic purpose. But it doesn’t. It takes the straightforward plot point from the original story and makes it nonsensical. And, frankly, it makes Stanley, The Losers, and the film, look worse.

Remember, Stanley killed himself because he thought he was too afraid of Pennywise to do what had to be done. But he isn’t afraid to end his own life. The very fact that he’s making a calculated decision to sacrifice himself – with enough premeditation to handwrite letters to all his old friends, “rationally” explaining his seemingly irrational decision – proves that he was totally capable of doing scary things to stop Pennywise.

It also suggests, depending on your perspective, that this character everyone loves didn’t care very much for his wife and family. Stanley originally ended his own life suddenly, while completely overwhelmed with fear. In the new version he does so out of bravery, and with enough forethought to explain himself to all of his friends.

That’s all well and good for The Losers, but what about Stanley’s wife? She’s the one who he knows will find him in the bathtub, in a pool of blood. If, as the movie suggests, Stanley’s decision was completely rational and not a knee-jerk act of terror, that means he either didn’t think about the trauma his discovery would inflict on his wife, or he didn’t care. He could have prepared her somehow. He could have done the deed where anyone else could have found his body. Heck, he could have faked a car accident for insurance purposes, in order to leave her well cared for. Instead she’s apparently an afterthought. We have no evidence that he left his wife a note like the ones he left for The Losers, and even if he did he probably left out the demon clown stuff, so she may live the rest of her life without ever really knowing what happened.

Stanley’s death would be terrible enough for his wife and family anyway. The revelation that it was premeditated, and conceived only as a means of doing good, is completely torpedoed by the fact that it’s an illogical plan. Again, the reveal is that he was actually very brave and self-sacrificing, and so it stands to reason that he was also more than capable of returning to Derry (although, again, his noble intentions apparently didn’t extend as far as the woman he was sharing his whole life with).

But worst of all is the argument that It: Chapter Two seems to be making, that Stanley’s suicide is somehow a good thing, because it makes life easier for his friends. That is a horrifically irresponsible approach to dramatizing a very serious issue. You can’t end a movie with your protagonists smiling and thinking that their friend killing himself may have been for the best. It makes The Losers look insensitive as hell, and it potentially conveys a message to the audience that killing yourself could be a rational response to dealing with childhood trauma.

That. Is. Not. True.

It’s not true in real life, and it doesn’t ring true dramatically in this context. It is often celebrated for its sincere depiction of people suffering from trauma as children and as adults, but treating suicide like a smart play instead of as a terrible tragedy isn’t worth celebrating. It’s a sour note on which to end this otherwise impressive story, and it turns what should have been a simple, running gag about disappointing endings into a dire warning about just how badly It: Chapter Two falls apart in its very last minutes.

William Bibbiani writes film criticism in Los Angeles, with bylines at The Wrap, Bloody Disgusting and IGN. He co-hosts three weekly podcasts: Critically Acclaimed (new movie reviews), The Two-Shot (double features of the best/worst movies ever made) and Canceled Too Soon (TV shows that lasted only one season or less). Member LAOFCS, former Movie Trivia Schmoedown World Champion, proud co-parent of two annoying cats.

Editorials

Finding Faith and Violence in ‘The Book of Eli’ 14 Years Later

Published

on

Having grown up in a religious family, Christian movie night was something that happened a lot more often than I care to admit. However, back when I was a teenager, my parents showed up one night with an unusually cool-looking DVD of a movie that had been recommended to them by a church leader. Curious to see what new kind of evangelical propaganda my parents had rented this time, I proceeded to watch the film with them expecting a heavy-handed snoozefest.

To my surprise, I was a few minutes in when Denzel Washington proceeded to dismember a band of cannibal raiders when I realized that this was in fact a real movie. My mom was horrified by the flick’s extreme violence and dark subject matter, but I instantly became a fan of the Hughes Brothers’ faith-based 2010 thriller, The Book of Eli. And with the film’s atomic apocalypse having apparently taken place in 2024, I think this is the perfect time to dive into why this grim parable might also be entertaining for horror fans.

Originally penned by gaming journalist and The Walking Dead: The Game co-writer Gary Whitta, the spec script for The Book of Eli was already making waves back in 2007 when it appeared on the coveted Blacklist. It wasn’t long before Columbia and Warner Bros. snatched up the rights to the project, hiring From Hell directors Albert and Allen Hughes while also garnering attention from industry heavyweights like Denzel Washington and Gary Oldman.

After a series of revisions by Anthony Peckham meant to make the story more consumer-friendly, the picture was finally released in January of 2010, with the finished film following Denzel as a mysterious wanderer making his way across a post-apocalyptic America while protecting a sacred book. Along the way, he encounters a run-down settlement controlled by Bill Carnegie (Gary Oldman), a man desperate to get his hands on Eli’s book so he can motivate his underlings to expand his empire. Unwilling to let this power fall into the wrong hands, Eli embarks on a dangerous journey that will test the limits of his faith.


SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Judging by the film’s box-office success, mainstream audiences appear to have enjoyed the Hughes’ bleak vision of a future where everything went wrong, but critics were left divided by the flick’s trope-heavy narrative and unapologetic religious elements. And while I’ll be the first to admit that The Book of Eli isn’t particularly subtle or original, I appreciate the film’s earnest execution of familiar ideas.

For starters, I’d like to address the religious elephant in the room, as I understand the hesitation that some folks (myself included) might have about watching something that sounds like Christian propaganda. Faith does indeed play a huge part in the narrative here, but I’d argue that the film is more about the power of stories than a specific religion. The entire point of Oldman’s character is that he needs a unifying narrative that he can take advantage of in order to manipulate others, while Eli ultimately chooses to deliver his gift to a community of scholars. In fact, the movie even makes a point of placing the Bible in between equally culturally important books like the Torah and Quran, which I think is pretty poignant for a flick inspired by exploitation cinema.

Sure, the film has its fair share of logical inconsistencies (ranging from the extent of Eli’s Daredevil superpowers to his impossibly small Braille Bible), but I think the film more than makes up for these nitpicks with a genuine passion for classic post-apocalyptic cinema. Several critics accused the film of being a knockoff of superior productions, but I’d argue that both Whitta and the Hughes knowingly crafted a loving pastiche of genre influences like Mad Max and A Boy and His Dog.

Lastly, it’s no surprise that the cast here absolutely kicks ass. Denzel plays the title role of a stoic badass perfectly (going so far as to train with Bruce Lee’s protégée in order to perform his own stunts) while Oldman effortlessly assumes a surprisingly subdued yet incredibly intimidating persona. Even Mila Kunis is remarkably charming here, though I wish the script had taken the time to develop these secondary characters a little further. And hey, did I mention that Tom Waits is in this?


AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Denzel’s very first interaction with another human being in this movie results in a gory fight scene culminating in a face-off against a masked brute wielding a chainsaw (which he presumably uses to butcher travelers before eating them), so I think it’s safe to say that this dog-eat-dog vision of America will likely appeal to horror fans.

From diseased cannibals to hyper-violent motorcycle gangs roaming the wasteland, there’s plenty of disturbing R-rated material here – which is even more impressive when you remember that this story revolves around the bible. And while there are a few too many references to sexual assault for my taste, even if it does make sense in-universe, the flick does a great job of immersing you in this post-nuclear nightmare.

The excessively depressing color palette and obvious green screen effects may take some viewers out of the experience, but the beat-up and lived-in sets and costume design do their best to bring this dead world to life – which might just be the scariest part of the experience.

Ultimately, I believe your enjoyment of The Book of Eli will largely depend on how willing you are to overlook some ham-fisted biblical references in order to enjoy some brutal post-apocalyptic shenanigans. And while I can’t really blame folks who’d rather not deal with that, I think it would be a shame to miss out on a genuinely engaging thrill-ride because of one minor detail.

With that in mind, I’m incredibly curious to see what Whitta and the Hughes Brothers have planned for the upcoming prequel series starring John Boyega


There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

Continue Reading