The butcher shop reopens
Terrify 2still directed and written by Damien Leone and following the first part released in 2017, returns to the screens with a budget seven times greater than its elder, and still the same desire to raise stomachs.
A year after the previous butchery, Art the clown, resurrected by an evil supernatural force, returns to the town where he committed his previous murders, during a Halloween party where he will have to face a brother and a sister who seem psychically connected. to him.
Taking the recipes from the original film, in other words a sort of magic trio with, at the top, the actor David Howard Thornton who still embodies Art le clown, excessive gore and a rickety scenario, Damien Leone tries to do the trick of the first part, but this time the footage goes from 1h30 for his predecessor to more than 2h with this one, which is not really going to turn out to his advantage.
A broke slasher
Although assuming its lack of means, it is clear when we see Terrify 2 that it had not really been expected since the first part that it would be a great success beyond a certain fringe of followers. Everything in the film is reminiscent of craftsmanship: we feel problems with the rhythm, the places most often used lack scale (except perhaps the costume shop and the nightmare scene) and, for good reason, this are, as in the first part, abandoned sheds, car parks, half-destroyed buildings, basements, cellars… In short, only economics that quickly tires the retina.
The lighting goes hand in hand, often supported by two lamps and three neon lights held by a string. Most of the visual effects look like MacGyver’s Handbook Chapter 1.
What about, moreover, the interpretation of the actors and actresses, who are barely passable at best, or even downright bad for the most part? Except, of course, the interpreter of Art the Clown who is no doubt the director’s selling point, with all the guts and the unbridled atmosphere bordering on the grotesque that goes with it.
Art and Pig
This kind of footage is of course intended for all lovers of frankly very dark humor and gratuitous violence, meaning by that without any real scenario to justify it. And, on that side, it must be said that we are rather well spoiled, between flying eyeballs, cranial boxes used to distribute sweets, acid jets, razor blades, explosions from head to sawed-off shotgun blast… In short, everything happens in a joy that borders on indecency, but with limited effects because often too grand-guignolesque to appear credible.
However, nothing can make us forget the fact that the first part had the judicious initiative to last only an hour and a half while this second part with its 2h18 becomes one of the longest slashers in history. Which is not really good news, considering that by wanting to overinflate his narration, the author ends up giving the impression of going more in circles with the mythology of Art, which does not flesh out however. There is certainly this little girl probably representing the diabolical entity (Satan?), but her story is never developed – or perhaps it will be in a next part, already programmed, in which it does not would not be surprising to find certain characters from this section in order to perpetuate a new franchise, like the Halloween and others Friday 13.
Minor Art Horror
In conclusion, we will say that this film will appeal to a certain audience fond of gore or simply happy to find a horror film that does not seek to authorize its old-fashioned violence. Nevertheless, it will displease those who prefer – and we understand them – to follow a real story that would help more to support a violence that often becomes totally gratuitous, and therefore unpleasant in the long run.
The first part had at least the merit of going straight to the point, while the second, by trying to artificially develop its mythology, gets lost in a host of intrigues that go in all directions, to the point that we asks why the director chose this format. In the end, there remains a good big bis gore, wobbly, with limited means and unbridled energy, to which we can concede a little guilty pleasure.