It: Welcome to Derry (2025) dives deep into the twisted origins of one of horror’s most infamous monsters — Pennywise the Dancing Clown — while expanding the mythology of Stephen King’s chilling universe. Set decades before the events of It (2017), this prequel series-turned-feature film transports audiences back to the cursed town of Derry, Maine, where the seeds of evil were first sown. Blending psychological horror with tragic human drama, the movie explores how fear, trauma, and denial allowed something truly monstrous to thrive beneath the surface of a seemingly ordinary small town.
The story opens in the early 1960s, a period when Derry appears to be prospering but is quietly haunted by a string of mysterious child disappearances. The narrative follows a young schoolteacher named Nora Greene (Sophia Lillis, returning in a reimagined role), who begins to suspect that the town’s tragedies are more than coincidence. Her investigation leads her to uncover ancient symbols, unsettling folklore, and ultimately, the terrifying truth that Derry’s evil runs deeper than anyone dares to admit. Alongside Nora is a group of misfit children — precursors to the later Losers’ Club — whose courage and innocence are tested when they come face to face with Pennywise in his earliest, most primal form.
Bill Skarsgård returns as Pennywise, and his performance is even more terrifying, filled with new layers of menace and melancholy. This version of the clown is less a physical monster and more an embodiment of Derry’s collective sins — racism, violence, greed, and the willful blindness of its citizens. His presence is more psychological this time, appearing in dreams, reflections, and fleeting glimpses before striking with gruesome precision. Each of his scenes feels like an encounter with something ancient and hungry, a nightmare that feeds not just on fear but on guilt.
Director Andy Muschietti crafts a film that’s both grand in scope and intimate in emotion. The cinematography captures Derry as a paradox — idyllic in daylight yet suffocatingly claustrophobic at night, with sewers and tunnels filmed like the arteries of a living creature. The production design meticulously recreates 1960s Americana, contrasting bright, nostalgic visuals with creeping dread. The pacing is deliberate, allowing tension to build slowly before bursting into moments of pure terror that will make even veteran horror fans squirm.
What makes Welcome to Derry stand out from other horror prequels is its commitment to character. The film doesn’t just show how Pennywise came to be — it examines why Derry allows him to exist. Through flashbacks and chilling visions, we see the town’s first encounter with the cosmic entity known as “It,” its arrival during a devastating flood, and the pact of silence that followed. The movie becomes as much a study of complicity as it is a monster story, portraying how ordinary people enable evil by looking the other way.
The supporting cast shines, particularly Wyatt Oleff as a young newspaper apprentice who risks everything to expose the truth, and Vera Farmiga as the town’s haunted librarian, burdened by memories she can’t explain. Their performances ground the supernatural horror in deeply human pain and moral struggle. The film’s haunting score, by Benjamin Wallfisch, mixes ghostly choir notes with a nostalgic 1960s soundscape, making every scene pulse with unease.
By its conclusion, It: Welcome to Derry delivers not just scares but a profound sense of dread that lingers long after the credits roll. It’s a story about the origins of evil, yes, but also about how fear itself is passed from generation to generation. The final scenes connect beautifully to the events of It (2017), setting the stage for what’s to come while leaving audiences shaken by the realization that Derry’s true horror isn’t just Pennywise — it’s the people who let him feed. Haunting, beautifully shot, and emotionally devastating, Welcome to Derry proves that sometimes, the scariest monsters are the ones we create ourselves.
