Twenty-seven years after 1990 release of horrifying mini-series starring Tim Curry, the 2017 film adaptation of “IT” grants readers of Stephen King’s enormous novel a mostly-faithful representation of Derry, Maine, and the events that occurred there. Although not all aspects of horror were transferred from novel to film and some forgivable (and unforgivable) changes were made, the film did a lot well.

The filmmakers changed the time frame of the story from the 1950s to the 1980s (perhaps unfortunate, perhaps only more accessible), which allowed for a killer soundtrack—featuring such bands as The Cure, Anthrax, XTC, Bananarama, The Smiths, The Replacements and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

They also included true-to-novel elements for character, story world development, and plot. They demonstrated more thematic (even stylistic) aspects of the novel in interesting ways, amplifying the parallel between monsters of the alien variety and monsters of the human variety, as well as the importance of friendship in defeating fear, and growing up before one is ready, hinting toward the loss of childhood innocence that occurs therein. And, through a sort of slew of episodic encounters with the monster, filmmakers also manage to represent the wide, third-person narrative used in the novel, an artistic feat no one anticipated.

From here on in, I’m giving it all away, so — reader beware. The opening scene provides direct details and language from King’s novel, capturing what is debatably the most iconic scene within the sinister epic: Bill Denbrough crafts for his younger brother Georgie a paraffin-waxed boat, their mother plays piano in the parlor to the accompaniment of ceaseless spring rain, and Bill, nursing a cold, waves goodbye to his brother from the window. Viewers follow Georgie around the corner of Witcham and Jackson on a sailing mission, which ultimately leads to his murder at the mouth of storm-drain dwelling Pennywise the Dancing Clown. Pennywise (played by the equally-horrifying Bill Skarsgard), being the first manifestation of evil, chomps Georgie’s arm off, which results in his untimely death and sets Bill up with an unyielding guilt-complex.

“Stuttering-Bill” Denbrough, then becomes obsessed with his brother’s disappearance and, lacking support from his grief-stricken parents, finds a sounding board for his delusional thinking (“Georgie could still be alive!”) in his friends, the members of The Loser Club. Bill is the speech-impaired leader with a brave, guilt-driven heart. The club includes Ben Hanscom, chubby-and-smart future architect; “Trashmouth” Richie Tozier, a kid with a knack (or not) for doing voices and no lack of impertinence; Eddie Kaspbrak, kid-hypochondriac and victim of Munchausen by Proxy at the hand of his mother; Beverly Marsh, girl-all-the-nerdy-guys-want, who has an abusive father; Stanley Uris, a Jewish boy with clean-freak tendencies and a huge capacity for denial; and Mike Hanlon, the presumed-lone black kid in Derry.

Over the course of summer, the Losers grow together by battling shared monsters in a town haunted by impartial, possibly mind-controlled, adults, psychopathic young bullies (Henry Bowers, Victor “Vic” Criss, Reginald “Belch” Huggins and Patrick Hockstetter), and an all-knowing, mystical evil that takes the form of whatever one fears most and returns to Derry every 27 years to feast on children.

The film maintains a nearly-paramount amount of accuracy in its inclusion of plot points like the knife scene in which Henry carves an “H” onto Ben’s stomach, the rock fight between The Losers and Henry’s gang, the photo-album scene, Beverly’s bloody sink scene, and the first and second battles between Pennywise and The Losers. However, there are a few aspects to the film that could be considered unfortunate and others, unforgivable. There is minimal development of heavily developed thematic elements of the novel (racism, misogyny, and homophobia), a failure to mention much of the mysticism around the creation of Pennywise, exclusion of the weird and uncomfortable sex scene, and total absence of character development for Patrick Hockstetter (animal-killing, baby-smothering psychopath).

Unforgivably, the film shifts the responsibilities of Mike Hanlon, who in the novel is essentially Derry’s town historian, onto Ben Hanscom for no useful reason. And worse is the treatment of Henry Bowers—who in the novel is a character whose already-fragile psyche shatters after witnessing the murder of his two cronies and later serves Pennywise in the attempted demise of The Losers who’ve returned to town as adults. In the film, Henry not only does not witness the death of Vic and Belch, but is also pushed down a deep well to what viewers might assume is his death.

If you have the time this semester, you should probably read the novel. But if you haven’t the time, I’d recommend checking out the flick, if only to hear the tunes.

What are afraid of? Come on, join the Club. We all float down here.