Why Is Tim Curry’s Pennywise the Clown So Freaking Scary?

I’m not alone in being a child of the 90s who experienced a tiny bit of trauma thanks to seeing the 1990 IT miniseries much earlier than they should have. I have a clear memory in my head of the Losers loading Mike Hanlon into a convertible and driving off to the hospital, doused in red light. While that moment doesn’t play out exactly the same in the miniseries, I held onto it for years until one rainy day, my brother and I, then old enough to rent whatever we wanted from the video store (so, ya know, like ten), rented IT, and it messed us up again.

This time, we were more excited to be frightened, but that first rewatch still left a mark. At one point, in the second half, Pennywise the Clown taunts Beverly Marsh after pretending to be her father and taking her on a demented trip through her childhood home. IT then laughs at her in this blood-curdling way, and I was petrified. So, of course, right at that moment, my mom asked me to take my dog Buttons out to pee. We were standing out there in the rain, and I could have sworn that I saw Pennywise across the street, laughing at me, until a truck drove by and he was gone, similar to how he disappears in front of Beverly.

At this point in my life, I was more than familiar with the incredible Tim Curry, who the world lost yesterday. He had made me laugh in Home Alone 2 and The Muppet Treasure Island, and I was old enough to recognize that he was this clown before me. And yet, he scared me more than any movie monster I had faced before, and I was already well-versed in the Halloween and Child’s Play films. If anything, knowing the man under the makeup made (and still makes) the whole thing even scarier.

I’ve said it before, but what works about Bill Skarsgård’s take on Pennywise is that he treats IT like an alien who can’t quite grasp humanity, because that’s what it is, and I think that performance is very effective. Tim Curry’s take on the character goes in the exact opposite direction. His Pennywise knows that clowns are weird but also kind of enticing, and he plays that up with aplomb. He’s banking on your familiarity and trying to use it against you, and he’s bringing himself along for the ride.

Tim Curry is right at the front of his Pennywise performance. The makeup and costume certainly help him transform, but he’s still got that devilish smile. That cackle, while pushed to the extreme, is still a trademark of his career. Those eyes, big and bold, stare directly into your soul while he makes you float. Hell, there’s even a bit of Curry’s seductive side when he kidnaps Audra, looking into her mind, saying, “Dontcha want it,” over and over again.

Curry being so present in the character brings an extra level of discomfort to the film. Part of you wants to trust him, and can understand why little Georgie was so enamored by this strange man in the sewer. Never again will we see a clown that is so cocksure as Pennywise is when it dances down Main Street in Derry’s town square, only to release a monstrous growl at the onlooking Losers and threaten their very lives. It’s a masterclass in flipping the performance on a dime but still managing to be terrifying both ways. It’s unreal!

Why is Tim Curry’s Pennywise the Clown so freaking scary? Because it’s Tim Curry. Because he brought his entire self to the role, in such a way that the next person up had to figure out something entirely different, lest they be compared to the miniseries. Plenty of folks will try to say that one is clearly better than the other, but they’re different. Having a preference is fine, but why on Earth would you bother comparing what anyone is doing to what Tim Curry did? It’s simply not fair. The man was one of a kind.