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Is It Weird That I Want to Fuck Pennywise the Murder Clown?

By Rebecca Pahle | Film | September 11, 2017 |

By Rebecca Pahle | Film | September 11, 2017 |

Andy Muschietti’s It (review here) made a metric ton of money over the weekend, breaking records for highest September opening, highest fall opening, and highest opening for a horror movie. It also got the second highest opening for an R-rated film of all time (after last year’s Deadpool) and is, after only three days, the second-highest grossing Stephen King film adaptation ever. (It will pass The Green Mile within the next day or so.) Its unexpected success—people expected it to make money, but not this much of it—will likely have a direct impact on the film industry. Not only is a sequel now guaranteed to happen (it was pretty much a sure thing anyway, but this puts a nail in the creepy clown coffin), we could be looking at increased investment in R-rated, big-budget adaptations of the work of Stephen King.

However, for me, It has had a much more personal impact—smaller in scale, but no less Earth-shattering for all that.

Guys… do I want to fuck Pennywise the clown?

By that I do not actually mean “Ooh, I want Pennywise to honk my nose and plumb the depths of my Deadlights”—I may have written about breadfucking, but I’m not as far gone as all that. This particular round of thirst is more along the lines of “Oh, hey, Bill Skarsgård is pretty hot, isn’t he? DESPITE THE FACT THAT HE PLAYS A FREAKY-VOICED MURDER CLOWN.”

To be fair, I did find myself sexually attracted to Skarsgård the younger when he played Charlize Theron’s East German contact in Atomic Blonde. “Stamp my fake passport, Bill Skarsgård,” I thought, in between being attracted to the entire rest of the cast. But then always, in the back of my mind: The next time I see this man, he will be playing a demon clown, and that will kill my boner right quick, so I can go back to lusting over Armie Hammer’s chest hair in Call Me By Your Name and Henry Cavill’s chest hair in Man of Steel and everyone’s chest hair, every time, everywhere.”


Didn’t happen!

Bill Skarsgård is still hot*!

(Not the hottest Skarsgård. That’s still Stellan. Sorry, Bill, Alexander, and Gustav.)

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(Sidebar: Do you remember that time in Legend of Tarzan when Alexander was being choked out by a rosary and broke it by flexing his neck muscles? It was ridiculous and amazing. Only good part of that film. Moving on.)

Pennywise has goat eyes! His eyeballs roam around independently of each other! He drools all the time. And then there’s the whole murdering children thing. It’s not a good look! Besides which, Bill Skarsgård looks uncannily like a young Steve Buscemi. But also: I don’t care. He has great taste in sweater vests. I would. Float away in the sewers of my soul.

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Skarsgård’s Pennywise was creepy as shit, a bonkers mix of menace and childlike glee that had him running laps around Tim Curry’s more one-dimensional take on the character. The cartoonishly exaggerated mouth. The rabbit teeth. The Bozo-on-crack hairstyle. Skarsgård is practically unrecognizable as a real human person.

I still would. God help me, I still would.


May God have mercy on my soul.

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