Tag Archives: Tim Curry

CLUE 40th Anniversary

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40 Years Later, It’s Still One of the Smartest Comedies Ever Made From One of the Dumbest Possible Premises.

Clue (1985) somehow caught lightning in a bottle, and has held onto it for four decade; this same lightning was then shaken and thrown against the silver screen in the most delightfully chaotic ways imaginable. Forty years later, this all-star murder mystery based on the classic boardgame remains sharper, funnier, and more lovingly crafted than most prestige comedies released today. What should have been a disposable novelty became a masterpiece of comedic architecture, tonal discipline, and ensemble chemistry. I first discovered it on VHS from my local public library, and even then I knew I had stumbled onto something special. My sister loves it as much as I do. It’s a movie that works on you—and then keeps working every time you revisit it.

For my show ReelTalk on WKGC Public Media this week, I invited returning guest and friend of the show, film critic Sean Boelman to join me in our celebration of Clue‘s 40th anniversary. You can listen to the show by clicking the appropriate link below. While my article captures the highlights of what Sean and I discuss, listening to the show after reading the article, you’ll have a much more robust experience!

At its core, Clue commits fully to three things most comedic mysteries never attempt at the same time: total absurdity, airtight plotting, and theatrical precision. Most films in the genre pick one lane—either slapstick, or clever mystery, or witty farce—but Clue weaves them together with an elegance that belies how frantic the movie feels moment to moment. Unlike many modern adaptations drowning in CGI, brand synergy, or self-aware winking, Clue treats its ludicrous premise with the sincere craftsmanship of an Agatha Christie play–yet–Clue’s apparatus is actually more closely related to the boardgame play than to the typical Christie literary apparatus. The humor is character-driven, rooted in rhythm, timing, and razor-sharp verbal dexterity. That sincerity, combined with its unhinged heart, is why the film remains timeless.

Much of Clue’s durability stems from how it uses language as a weapon. This is not a movie relying on boardgame nostalgia or shallow references; it is powered by dense wordplay, screwball pacing, and overlapping exchanges that feel plucked from a stage farce running at espresso speed. Every performer is asked to treat their lines with theatrical precision. The jokes arrive in layers, often stacked on top of each other, rewarding audiences who pay attention and enhancing the comedy with every rewatch. By grounding the absurdity in craft—rather than irony—the film avoids collapsing into randomness. It feels smart, not silly; intentional, not accidental. Humor this tightly constructed simply does not age.

Another reason the film works: it respects the genre it’s parodying. Clue doesn’t mock murder mysteries from a distance. It commits to the melodrama, the red herrings, the stakes—even as it gleefully skewers them. Parody only works when sincerity lies beneath the joke. Modern adaptations often fail because they either drown in self-awareness or cling to seriousness so tightly the comedy feels bolted on. Clue threads the needle by honoring the mechanics of a whodunit while joyfully stretching them to the breaking point. It loves the sandbox it’s playing in, and the audience can feel that affection.

Of course, the film’s most unforgettable asset is its ensemble cast, which may be one of the best comedic troupes ever assembled on screen. These are character actors trained in theater, sketch, and improv—who understand timing and ensemble harmony better than any star-studded ensemble today. Tim Curry’s manic precision, Madeline Kahn’s volcanic eccentricity, Michael McKean’s brilliant awkwardness, Lesley Ann Warren’s slinky aloofness—every actor is distinct, yet completely in tune with the film’s wavelength. No one competes for the spotlight; instead, every moment becomes a relay race of comedic energy. Modern ensemble films often feel like stitched-together “bits.” Clue feels alive, reactive, and musical. It is an ensemble in the purest sense.

And then, of course, there are the multiple endings—a theatrical gamble so audacious it could have sunk the film entirely. Instead, it became an iconic part of its identity. In 1985, you never knew which ending you’d get in theaters, a cheeky nod to the board game’s replayability. Instead of feeling gimmicky, it felt organic to the world of the film—a natural extension of its playful tone and farcical structure. Today, a studio would almost certainly turn the idea into a marketing ploy or streaming bonus feature, but in Clue, the endings are crafted with sincerity and precision, not cynicism. They’re not content strategy; they’re punchlines.

The film’s simplicity is another key to its longevity. Where modern game adaptations inflate themselves into lore-heavy franchises, Clue keeps everything contained in one house with one group of increasingly frantic characters. The mansion becomes a pressure cooker where personality collisions become the main spectacle. No elaborate world-building, no digital spectacle—just smart writing, sharp performances, and a commitment to letting the humor build naturally. The film’s scale is its strength.

Would Clue still find an audience today? Absolutely—although probably through a different path. Theatrical comedy has become a rare species, and a film this verbally dense might struggle to secure screen space. But word of mouth would spread like wildfire, and social media would turn its most quotable lines into instant memes. If anything, its intelligence, compact scope, and genuine ensemble work would feel refreshingly rebellious in today’s IP-heavy landscape.

What ultimately makes Clue endlessly rewatchable—more than contemporaries like Knives Out—is that it’s a comedy first and a mystery second. The joy doesn’t hinge on solving the puzzle; it hinges on watching these characters unravel in the most glorious fashion. Puzzles fade with familiarity. Brilliant performances only deepen. The more you watch Clue, the funnier it becomes.

So what is Clue’s greatest legacy? It proved something rare: that a film can be wildly silly and intellectually sharp at the same time. It’s a miracle of tonal balance, ensemble synchronicity, and writerly discipline. A movie that treats its audience with respect even as it descends into delightful chaos. A movie that should have been forgotten…yet became unforgettable.

Forty years later, Clue remains the gold standard—not because it adapts a board game faithfully, but because it transcends one. It is lightning in a bottle. And every time we open that bottle, the spark still flies.

Ryan is the general manager for 90.7 WKGC Public Media and host of the show ReelTalk “where you can join the cinematic conversations frame by frame each week.” Additionally, he is the author of the upcoming film studies book titled Monsters, Madness, and Mayhem: Why People Love Horror. After teaching film studies for over eight years at the University of Tampa, he transitioned from the classroom to public media. He is a member of the Critics Association of Central Florida and Indie Film Critics of America. If you like this article, check out the others and FOLLOW this blog! Follow him on Twitter: RLTerry1 and LetterBoxd: RLTerry

“IT” (2017) film review

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IT’s hauntingly fantastic! From the first to the last scene, the Stephen King adaptation directed by Andres Buschietti is nothing less than a horror masterpiece that does both the original novel and the TV mini series (1990) justice. The brilliance behind the adaptation is found in the excellent cast. So organic, so relatable. A common trope in King novels (and by extension the movie adaptation) is the tried and true narrative structure of the “coming of age” story. Although Stand By Me typifies the “coming of age” subgenre, IT may serve as a horror film for shock value on the outside; but beneath the nightmare-inducing exterior, beats the heart of a heavy drama with a great message about growing up, friendship, teamwork, and facing one’s fears. Few horror films reach iconic status, but this one is surely destined to be counted among films like: The Shining, Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre and others. For all the previous King adaptations, Buschietti may have directed the best adaption we have ever seen. Kubrick’s The Shining may still win the award for most artistic and cinematic; however, 2017’s IT takes the words from the pages and successfully translates them to the silver screen along with impressive set design, special/practical effects, and a blood curdling score.

Derry, Maine may seem like a picturesque idealistic version of Americana, but it has a problem. Every couple of decades, children and teenagers vanish without a trace. After Georgie disappears while playing with a paper boat in the rain, his brother Billy (Jaeden Lieberher) becomes determined to solve the mystery and find his brother. Met with opposition from his father, Billy teams up with his long-time friends Eddie (Jack Dylan Grazer), Richie (Finn Wolfhard), Stanley (Wyatt Oleff), and new friends Beverly (Sophia Lillis), Mike (Chosen Jacobs), and Ben (Jeremy Ray Taylor) to unravel the mystery surrounding the town of Derry. In their wildest nightmares, no one could have anticipated the evil that lies beneath the streets, in the dank sewers of the Maine hamlet. When faced with what terrifies each of them the most, the group of young people must band together in order to conquer their fears and destroy Pennywise, the evil dancing clown (Bill Skarsgard).

The local movie theatre’s marquee displays Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street 5; and the fact it is that particular film serves a more important purpose than simply to establish the period (which it does brilliantly, by the way). That particular movie is quite symbolic, and in many ways, parallels the events that unfold in Derry, Maine. Both Nightmare and IT take place in small towns; and furthermore, the ensemble cast is comprised of young people who must face fears and band together in order to conquer the evil that threatens their very lives. Although this version of Pennywise is a little less playful than the iconic original Tim Curry Pennywise, the dancing killer clown has a very Freddy Kruger quality about him. Many of the qualities that aid in (in my opinion) making Freddy the most terrifying of all the classic slashers and icons, is his playful attitude followed by moving in for the kill in a very showman way. Both Pennywise and Freddy are born out of and prey upon deep childhood fears and quite literally become the manifestation of the evil in the world. As such, there are many reasonable ways for IT: Chapter 1 to spawn several sequels in the same way that A Nightmare on Elm Street did.

As nightmarish as the majority of the movie is, it does struggle here and there to connect all the scenes together whilst maintaining a solid rhythm. The overall sense of dread is carried through for the most part, but there are times that the film fails to increase the level of anxiety which could have been accomplished by spending more time in Derry’s history and the traumas and secrets that were buried over the decades. I would have liked to have seen the sewers that the kids search through be more symbolic of the very plumbing that transports the deep seeded fears that are ignored or flushed away by the people of Derry. IT certainly accomplishes its goal of being a high quality horror film but it falls short of going as deep as it could have. The overall experience of the film rivals that of other great horror films that have gained iconic status. Greatly contributing to this success is the balance between establishing nostalgic connections between it, the original IT, and the audience members, and the excellent 21st century hair-raising effects. The relatable cast seems to have been taken right out of Netflix’ Stranger Things, and will work wonders for attracting a younger audience who may not be familiar with the novel or original mini series.

There are two films in IT: the horror film and dark drama. Both are well executed but have a few flaws in the nearly perfect recipe. It’s both a nostalgic coming-of-age story and a Wes Craven Freddy-like slasher. Having an ability to be a dark drama masquerading around as a horror film will do very nicely at the box office. Perhaps if this film were a little more like Nightmare and we saw a little less of Pennywise, he would be more terrifying. As it stands, the more we see Pennywise, the less scary he becomes. Still, he is pretty terrifying! Buschietti may not wind up with the same cache as Kubrick, Hitchcock, or Craven, but he has emulated much of what the aforementioned masters of suspense, terror, and horror pioneered many years ago.

One thing’s for sure, this is a great way to kick off the Halloween season of films! After a mostly lackluster August, I am glad that the cinema is bustling with great films to see. IT this week, Mother next week, followed by the remake of Flatliners, September is shaping up to be a terrifyingly brilliant month for films. Should you choose to venture to Derry, Maine this weekend, you won’t be disappointed with the remake of a classic. If you really want to have some fun, bring along a friend who has a phobia of clowns.