This episode of the Fully-Booked: Literary Podcast kicked off with a fun little twist of fate.
We had originally slotted this IT episode into our October schedule, purely because it felt right for the season. It had been a while since either of us had watched both chapters, and October just felt like the perfect time to revisit one of the best horror adaptations in recent memory.
But then, purely by coincidence, it turned out that Welcome to Derry was premiering on HBO Max the very same week. We didn’t plan it, but we’ll take the synchronicity as a win.
We talked a bit about our excitement for Welcome to Derry, especially since it’s helmed by Andy and Barbara Muschietti, the sibling duo who directed and produced IT Chapter One and Two. They’re longtime Stephen King fans, which shows in the care and attention poured into the films.
Also, seeing other Stephen King characters like Dick Halloran from The Shining potentially woven into this new series? That definitely got us curious.
The Horror Beneath Derry’s Surface
Stephen King’s IT was first published in 1986, and it’s a monster of a novel, clocking in well over a thousand pages. The Muschietti films smartly split the story into two parts, focusing on the dual timelines: the characters as children and again as adults, 27 years later.
We love how King plays with the idea of childhood fears and the way trauma lingers. That central theme, the transition from innocence to experience, is key.
The trauma the characters face as kids in Derry doesn’t just fade; it festers, quietly shaping their adult lives. They may leave town, find surface-level success, but the emotional baggage never really leaves them. And worse, they don’t remember much of it until they’re called back.
One of the most haunting questions the story raises is whether IT (a possibly alien creature that feeds every 27 years) is the source of Derry’s evil, or if the townspeople themselves are complicit.
Do they just conveniently forget what’s happening? Or is there something deeper, some kind of collective denial that lets the darkness thrive?
It’s chilling, really, how King uses horror to reflect real-world evil. Prejudice, violence, bigotry, they’re all part of the story, especially in scenes like the horrific attack on the gay couple at the beginning of Chapter Two. Pennywise may be terrifying, but the humans in this story? Sometimes they’re worse.
RelatedThe Rise of Psychological Horror: The Genre That Never Dies
Then and Now: Casting That Hits Every Note

We couldn’t stop gushing about how well-cast these movies are. Every member of the Losers Club, both child and adult versions, is perfectly selected. There’s real continuity between their younger and older selves, similar mannerisms, speaking styles, and even emotional expressions. The actors clearly studied their counterparts, and it pays off.
Jay Ryan’s take on Ben Hanscom, for example, felt like a highlight. His transformation is the most dramatic physically, but even with the glow-up, his emotional beats are in sync with young Ben. And let’s be honest, when Richie jokes that he looks like every Brazilian soccer player rolled into one, we laughed way too hard.
Jessica Chastain and Sophia Lillis both nailed Beverly’s combination of strength and vulnerability. Bill Hader and James Ransone as adult Richie and Eddie? Comedy gold.
Their scenes brought much-needed levity, but also real depth. And then there’s James McAvoy as Bill. That stutter? So hard to pull off without it feeling forced, and yet he did it with real grace.
Even characters with less screen time, like Stanley, left a strong impression. His quiet bravery in Chapter One and heartbreaking decision in Chapter Two reminded us why he matters so much to the group dynamic. Mike, often sidelined, holds the group together.
He never leaves Derry, and he carries the responsibility of calling the others back, despite his own trauma. He’s a quiet hero in his own right.
RelatedBest Horror Books Published In 2025 You Must Read
Moments That Hit Us in the Gut

Some scenes were almost too much. The death of Adrian Mellon. That awful House of Mirrors sequence. The little girl with the birthmark. Those weren’t just horror for horror’s sake; they had emotional weight, and they hit hard.
One moment that crushed us both? When Bill admits he wasn’t sick the day Georgie disappeared, he just didn’t feel like playing. It’s such a normal big brother thing, but when you carry guilt like that into adulthood, it becomes enormous. That scene brought out tears.
And then there’s Richie. Oh, Richie. His unspoken love for Eddie is handled with so much subtlety. We wish they’d explored it more in Chapter One, even just a hint, because it would’ve made the ending hit even harder. Still, the loss of Eddie and Richie’s grief adds a heartbreaking layer to an already emotional finale. That moment in the quarry, Richie carving Eddie’s initials? Gut-wrenching.
Let’s not forget Beverly. She lives through a different kind of horror, long before Pennywise ever appears. Her abusive father and later, her abusive husband, show how real-world trauma can be just as terrifying. And yet, she finds strength. She breaks the cycle. That quiet contentment she reaches by the end? She earns it.
RelatedHow Stephen King Almost Threw Away His Most Successful Book
Pennywise and Legacy: Why IT Sticks with Us

We couldn’t wrap this up without talking about Bill Skarsgård. He is IT. His performance is the stuff of nightmares. That voice, the eye trick, the jerky movements, it all comes together to make Pennywise iconic.
We honestly don’t know how anyone could top it, and we’re not sure we want them to try. Just leave it alone. Put it on the shelf next to Lord of the Rings and call it good.
Bill brings this eerie mix of childish playfulness and bone-deep menace. And scenes like the one where he lures the little girl with promises to “blow away” her birthmark?
That was almost too much. We hated how effective it was. We hated how real it felt. And that’s what makes this adaptation so strong: it doesn’t just scare you. It gets under your skin emotionally.
What really holds these films together, though, is the writing. Every major character has a clear arc. Themes of friendship, loss, and memory echo through both parts.
The transitions between child and adult versions aren’t just physical; they’re emotional. And the score? So good. There’s a piece played at the end of both chapters that always gets us. That soft flute refrain. It sneaks up on you, and suddenly you’re crying at the end of a horror movie.
Final Thoughts: What Scares Us and Stays With Us

We wrapped up this episode talking about what IT means to us personally. Whether it’s clowns (Meaghan hates them) or mascots (also Meaghan, hilariously), or just the idea that trauma lives in our memories no matter how much we try to forget, IT taps into those fears.
It shows how facing the darkness head-on is the only way to move forward.
Watching both chapters back to back helped us appreciate things we’d missed before. The emotional arcs. The acting choices. The subtle hints. It made us feel closer to these characters, as ridiculous as that might sound.
We’ve cried for them. Laughed with them. Hidden behind the popcorn during their scariest moments. And we’re grateful to have these films to revisit whenever we want a reminder that horror can be about more than just jump scares.
We’re hoping Welcome to Derry lives up to the legacy, but if not, we’ll always have Chapters One and Two.
They’re more than just horror movies. They’re stories about growing up, holding on, letting go, and confronting the past, even when it’s wearing a clown suit and dragging people into sewers.












