It’s difficult to imagine a time when clowns weren’t scary. As a child of the ’80s, I have hazy memories of watching The Bozo Show at my grandmother’s house and feeling strangely unnerved by a grown man in a garish costume helping children toss balls into tiny cups. The kids seemed to be having the time of their lives and were handsomely rewarded for successful throws. But in the year 2026, you’d be more likely to find children running from clowns than willingly playing a party game.
We’ve completely lost our trust in these overly friendly entertainers and now view them as dangerous entities. Most of this fear can be traced back to Tim Curry’s phenomenal performance as Pennywise the Dancing Clown. Thirty-six years after Tommy Lee Wallace’s It, the iconic villain is still nightmare fuel.
With examples dating back to ancient Egypt, the clown exists in every culture. Court jesters, fools, and comedians have all provided light-hearted humor tinged with subtle social commentary through outsized pantomime and self-deprication. By the mid-20th century, western audiences were most familiar with the circus clown, a buffonish performer in primary colors, dazzling audiences with slight-of-hand illusions and vaudevillian tricks.
Inspired by the British pantomimist Joseph Grimaldi who originated the iconic white makeup design, Bozo the Clown rose to fame with an animated series and nationally syndicated children’s show. He would later inspire Ronald McDonald, mascot of the massive fast food chain who would bring clowns to the American dinner table.
As the archetype gained popularity, audiences slowly grew suspicious of the perpetual smile. DC Comics added a sinister edge with the Joker, a criminal mastermind who terrorizes Gotham with a jester facade, while the 1979 arrest of serial killer John Wayne Gacy connected the harlequin persona with grisly true crime. It’s no wonder that when Stephen King began writing about the essence of fear, he chose a sinister clown for his central antagonist. Remembering his inspiration, the Master of Horror would later describe clowns as the creature children fear, “more than anything else in the world.”
Published in 1986, It follows the Losers’ Club, a group of tween outcasts hunted by an alien entity. The shapeshifting creature has the ability to transform into its prey’s greatest fear, amplifying the terror to season the meat. But It’s default persona is an ostensibly friend circus clown who introduces himself as Pennywise. King even name-checks Bozo and Ronald McDonald when we first meet the beast in a sewer drain. Hoping to recover his lost paper boat, five-year-old Georgie Denbrough is lured into a false sense of security by a friendly smile and faint sounds of the circus. But the moment he reaches for his handmade toy, Pennywise grasps the child’s arm and rips it off.
King’s novel became a runaway best-seller, immediately eyed as the next high-profile adaptation. Following in the footsteps of Tobe Hooper’s 1979 Salem’s Lot, Wallace’s It premiered as an ABC two-part special during November Sweeps Week of 1990. But King worried about the project’s success, particularly considering the novel’s disturbing content and themes of child endangerment. Hoping to draw eyes towards the risky endeavor, Wallace filled his adult cast with A-list actors like John Ritter, Olivia Hussey, Harry Anderson, and Annette O’Toole, most known for their work outside the genre sphere.
Perhaps the most unusual casting decision was for the central villain himself. Though Malcolm McDowell and Alice Cooper were considered, likely for their own horror legacy, Wallace lobbied for Curry who envisioned the character as “a smile gone bad.” Then known for more comedic roles in Clue and The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Curry admired Pennywise’s beguiling charisma and deadly intent, remembering that the monster must first draw kids close before sealing their fate. Curry’s own menacing charm is on full display. Though playing a bloodthirsty child murderer, he lures us in with a wink and a smile while danger twinkles in his eyes.
Compared to Bill Skarsgård’s modern iteration, Curry’s Pennywise is fairly subdued. His clown is decked out in a yellow jumpsuit with purple-striped sleeves and billowing ruffles. White gloves and orange pom-poms complete this traditional look, topped with a button nose and bright red hair. Replicating Grimaldi’s makeup design, minimal features traced in black and red float in a sea of uncontoured white. Only jagged teeth, yellow eyes, and a bulbous forehead — inspired by Lon Chaney in The Phantom of the Opera – give the look a strangely inhuman feel. Makeup Effects Coordinator Bart Mixon intentionally leaned into a friendly vibe noting, “This creature is trying to lure children in, so he’s not going to be a monster at first.”
Having previously worked under heavy prosthetics, Curry strongly argued for a more understated look and created an arsenal of his own menacing facial expressions. Wallace would later praise this more authentic approach, remembering, “He was right, of course. With those eyes, and that mouth, and his crazy, sardonic sense of humor, less turned out to be more in the makeup department.” Though several scenes feature Curry baring sharpened teeth, a smaller, less vicious set allowed the actor to more easily enunciate.
This distinctive voice is central to the terror Curry creates. A wise-cracking trickster, Pennywise torments his victims with disturbing jokes and unnerving prophecies. Before going in for the kill, he warns the Losers, “I’m every nightmare you’ve ever had. I’m your worst dream come true. I’m everything you ever were afraid of.” In addition to amplifying the fear, Curry’s gruff voice helps connect the shapeshifting monster’s more nebulous personas. A mummy, a skeleton, and a treacherous witch all speak in Pennywise’s gravelly tones. When young Loser Beverly (Emily Perkins) sees blood explode from her bathroom sink, she doesn’t see the sinister clown at all, but hears his disquieting voice drifting up from the sewer drains, warning her of the horrors to come.
As Bev cowers in fear on the bathroom floor, Wallace zooms in for a close-up of the frightened child’s face. It’s a technique he repeats several times through the series, creating the illusion of children in jeopardy. Wary of Broadcast Standards and Practices, Wallace avoids putting his young cast directly in the path of danger, using clever tricks and varied point of view to imply danger safe for network TV.
Rather than actually harming the kids, Pennywise taunts from a distance while Wallace highlights their expressions of fear. Though intended to soften disturbing content, the result is actually scarier. With no child in the frame, we feel as if Pennywise is menacing us through the thin protection of our TV screen. This destabilizing perspective shift allows us to fully absorb Curry’s terrifying performance as we squirm in his unrelenting gaze.
Wallace uses special effects and replacement puppetry only when necessary; when Pennywise crawls out of a tiny locker room drain and later when he disappears into his subterranean lair. When viewed in a bubble, these moments admittedly feel campy and dated, but alongside Curry’s mesmerizing delivery, they are uncanny punctuations of terror. Pennywise often appears in the cold daylight, creating an eerie clash between fantasy and reality. When Bill (Richard Thomas) first returns to his childhood home, Pennywise taunts him from a line of open graves, one for himself and each of his friends. There are no thunderstorms or scary tableaus. Pennywise merely laughs while standing in the open earth.
Later, he torments Richie (Harry Anderson) in a crowded library, screaming ominous jokes while patrons pass by unaware, reading the newspaper and checking out books. Filmed in the bright light of day, Wallace eschews standard horror tropes and lets Curry create terror on his own.
By many accounts, the original It has not aged particularly well (the less said about that spider conclusion, the better.) To be fair, certain elements of King’s original story would challenge the most talented director, but the 1990 miniseries often feels overly saccharine and occasionally silly, particularly when compared to Andy Muschietti’s effects-heavy interpretations, It and It: Chapter Two. But Curry’s unsettling portrayal of the sinister clown has managed to stand the test of time. Though entirely covered with makeup and silk, the actor’s raw talent shines through and we feel as if Pennywise is targeting us.
I don’t write this to denigrate Skarsgard’s portrayal or Muschietti’s blockbuster films. The Swedish actor managed to do the impossible when reinventing King’s iconic character. But the modern version of Pennywise is a highly-stylized counterpoint to Curry’s stripped-down interpretation, revealing what the talented actor was able to do with a bit of makeup and artistic flair. His Pennywise remains one horror’s most iconic characters, spiraling into a subgenre all its own. In the thirty-six years since It premiered, the murderous clown archetype has been utilized by some of horror’s most exciting creators and seen in countless series and films.
Stephen King is often credited with destroying the clown industry, reframing once friendly figures as sinister killers in disguise. But I would argue it’s Curry’s performance that put the jovial clown out to pasture. While King’s story is certainly terrifying, nothing compares to the British actor’s signature blend of menace and charm.
We first meet Curry’s Pennywise as he offers a friendly wink and wave while hiding behind a laundry line. On second glance, his appealing demeanor has dissolved. What’s left is a grimace of abject malice as he advances on a helpless child. In less than thirty seconds, he’s managed to reel us in and scare us to death. Curry may not have invented the killer clown, but his iconic Pennywise remains one of the horror’s most terrifying creatures. It’s a microcosm of Curry’s talent for reeling us in then tearing us to shreds.
Though Curry did not invent the sinister clown, he is the quintessential example of the trope and still one of the scariest characters in the history of horror.
