'Smile 2' briefing

2 ½ (out of 4)

            Director Parker Finn has big plans for the SMILE UNIVERSE (spare me) but 2022’s Smile was nearly left to media purgatory, colloquially know as direct-to-streaming. Paramount switched the feature to a theatrical release last minute due to strong test scores AND YET, in spite of sizable turnout and enough word of mouth to ensure sequels, those darn cinemascores were low. How does the scariest mainstream horror flick, one of the most effective psychological / supernatural affairs in God knows how long, still leave the casuals unmoved?

An ambitious follow-up was beyond question, box office aside anyone can tell you the chain curse premise is primed for installments and then some — Final Destination is currently getting a sixth this coming May, (almost 15 years since the last, at least the first two sequels were worth it), It Follows will become a pair once They Follow finally gets here, and both Sinister 2 and The (American) Ring have their plodding, inferior posteriors. These don't end well and never do, and ignoring that there’s seemingly no escape (perhaps the faintest chance of survival in this and It Follows, the primary victim of Parker's pastiche) Smile almost seems like it could go on forever. So instead of overlaying a formidable formula across as many movies until it gets old, Parker immediately high jumps from passing along paranormal predators to straight-up Freddy Krueger shit (Dream Warriors is also a much more illustrious influence). The parting seconds leaves me to assume a concert-crowd-sized plague of Smile-specter spectators is about to be unleashed for maybe the mass-suicidal flavors of The Happening’s B-movie extremism and hopefully some Body Snatchers-borrowed bananas paranoia in the third installment.

As its own sequel Finn does a fine enough job, which is hard for me to say considering twists negating a decent chunk of the movie will always and forever drive me nuts. I can still mostly make out how the edges break between reality and this evil entity’s tricks, although for playing so many mind games it’s a shame this doesn’t make more sense — the original was clearly the more frightening, though Smile 2 masters a sort of sustained tension even when it’s all in your head, man. Of course sequels must go bigger, and the added oomph is justified as this invisible haunter might not be fucking with its victim in a variety of new ways like the stretch of Paranormal Activity flicks (pretty decent until the fourth one), since the glad ghoul itself admits it has been waiting for someone of influence, consequence or fame. The trauma-thirsty haunter yields more obvious themes as we swap an everywoman for the less preferred pop star played by Naomi Scott (the worst 1/3 of a terrible Charlie’s Angels reboot and an alright Jasmine in Guy Ritchie’s half-assed live-action Aladdin). Her character’s unverifiable psychosis is believed even less than Sosie Bacon’s therapist character due to a recovering addiction (the Smile spirit always felt like the devil on your shoulder à la some bad habit) but mostly for her coming off like a typically shallow prima donna.

The film begins with a sharp simulated one-take that seals the fate of our ultimately afflicted cop friend (Perry Strong) from the first installment, a nice reversal on transferring the paranormal parasite via murder plus witness as we see in the hilarious imaginary scenario last time with Kal Penn. But other than the presumed taunt turning out to be a source of aid, there are not many special wrinkles — we slowly are fed a tragic backstory in which our lead woman unwittingly commited manslaughter, copy paste… The cheesin’ demon fucks with her while she loses her mind, goaded into burning bridges and escalating public humiliation, but the chills arrive with significantly less rapid elemental terror and even the comforting humor in between isn’t as reliable. Finn likes his distorted exterior shots and the score is more warped, unexpected minimalism, all stylistics articulations furthered from the first. Rewatching the original I noticed a foreign poster of Michael Ritchie’s 1968 debut Downhill Racer in the cop’s apartment — innocuous except that Ritchie’s third film after two Robert Redford projects, that skiing drama and a scathing political lampoon The Candidate, was 1975’s Smile, a semi-satire on teenage beauty pageants. Smile '75 has more in common with Smile 2 and all the confetti, glitter and parasocial problems that comes with pop stardom, but after going down a pre-Bad News Bears rabbit hole, Finn clearly just wanted to nod to a coincidental favorite more than indicate an actual influence.

Smile 2 ultimately admits it can’t keep this shit up forever, and Parker swings for the fences as he forces us to cliffhang waiting on a third installment to see if the gonzo gear-shift panned out. Between Beetlejuice’s bummer of a late sequel and personally lacking the appetite for gore fetishism in the Terrifier franchise (and clearly Speak No Evil was going to be at best a tacky knockoff of the Danish original), it’s a sad time for the horror fan outside of The Substance’s stupendous synthesis. The Smile movies may boil down to It Follows for the less discerning, nonetheless this second take is a relatively robust set of freaky frightmares that tickled me even if it was unable to make my spine shiver as the familiar, nearly masterful first film solicited scene after scene. I was not laughing or singing praises with Joker 2 but Smile 2 had me grinning many a time, like when her backup dancers become a prowling ensemble straight from satan’s nightclub.