My biggest fear is shitting myself in public. It\u2019s not irrational. I have stomach problems. Earlier today I was in serious danger of soiling myself on the train, but luckily it gurgled into nothing more than a slightly wet fart, which I unintentionally propelled into a child\u2019s face. Applying the premise of It \u2013 a demonic clown reincarnation of Jimmy Saville who terrifies his prey by transforming into their biggest fear \u2013 to myself, I would presumably be chased by a giant pair of underwear, dripping with shameful effluent. That would scare me shitless. <\/p>\n
Without a hovering mass of faecal incontinence, however, this new adaptation of Stephen King\u2019s 1986 horror novel had very little effect on me. \u201cThese kids deserve to be brutally slaughtered,\u201d I thought to myself as they allowed themselves to be separated in a tetanus nightmare house, having only just agreed that they should stick together at all costs. Frustrated and far from scared, I was excitedly anticipating their mutilation, like I was waiting for an Amazon package to arrive. <\/p>\n
That\u2019s what happens in horror films, isn\u2019t it? The characters somehow always end up wandering down corridors on their own, a cat makes them jump, and then the real scare comes in the form of a makeup-wearing paedophile with fangs. And that\u2019s exactly why It is not scary: it\u2019s full of the same old horror tropes that only seem to work on gerbils masquerading as grown adults. And pussies. <\/p>\n