Arriving on the heels of Joker Folie à Deux and Terrifier 3, Smile 2 is the third multiplex offering in as many weeks to boast creepily grinning fiends. And while this latest clown-ish sequel is superior to those recent duds, it remains a small step down from its 2023 predecessor.
Once again charting a woman’s attempts to stave off insanity and death at the hands of an invisible demon that possesses and feeds on its human hosts, writer/director Parker Finn’s follow-up is technically accomplished and ambitiously unconventional, at least insofar as it sets its action in a milieu—the pop stardom universe—that isn’t a natural fit for unholy frights. Alas, that environment as well as a dearth of genuine surprises ultimately handicaps this polished thriller, even if it does reconfirm the filmmaker’s standing as a preeminent purveyor of jump scares.
There are two excellent jolts in Smile 2, and the fact that there aren’t more is perhaps the most disappointing aspect of this supernatural nightmare. Finn is adept at utilizing silence, empty background space, and slow zooms to create anticipation for disturbing shocks, and he’s just as skilled at supplying startling payoffs.
For too much of his sophomore directorial outing, however, he forgoes such devices in favor of ho-hum hallucinatory suspense, all of it revolving around Skye Riley (Naomi Scott), a pop star whose appearance on Drew Barrymore’s daytime talk show is the start of an eagerly anticipated comeback campaign following a tragic car crash one year earlier that killed her actor boyfriend (Ray Nicholson) and landed her in rehab for her substance abuse issues. Apologizing to her fans on national TV, Skye is determined to resuscitate her career, and with the aid of her momager (Rosemarie DeWitt), she seems primed to succeed in that endeavor, complete with a tour whose kickoff at Madison Square Garden is days away.
During rehearsals for that arena show, Skye reinjures her back and, beset by anxiety, turns to her former drug dealer Lewis (Lukas Gage) to acquire painkillers. When she visits his apartment, she discovers that Lewis is in worse shape than she is, greeting her by holding a samurai sword to her throat and acting intensely paranoid about something Skye can neither see nor comprehend. When Lewis is out of the room, Skye admirably refrains from indulging in the mountain of cocaine sitting on a coffee table, but her resolve is tested to a far greater degree when Lewis reappears, an unnatural smirk affixed to his face, and commits a gruesome act of self-harm in front of her.
Skye doesn’t realize what’s taken place, but those who’ve seen the original Smile will immediately understand that, by committing suicide, Lewis has transferred a monster from himself to Skye, and the clock is now ticking before it makes her do likewise to herself.
Smile 2 doesn’t alter its The Ring-via-It Follows template, following Skye as she increasingly begins losing her grip on reality. This is evident from her visions of random strangers with Lewis’ chilling smile, and also from her regression into harmful habits such as pulling out clumps of her hair to cope with her angst. Finn’s story is once again about the difficulty of facing past traumas—which infect and corrupt when not properly treated—except this time with a celebrity spin. Preying on her weaknesses (be it addiction or fame-related insecurity), the malevolent spirit tormenting Skye is both an autonomous force and a manifestation of her pre-existing problems.
To cope with her dawning crisis, Skye reaches out to her estranged best friend Gemma (Dylan Gelula), whom she hasn’t spoken to in a year. Nonetheless, the comfort she receives from this successful reunion isn’t enough to remedy her situation.
At a pre-concert meet-and-greet, she’s accosted by a sinister adult man who loses it in her presence. Immediately afterwards, she encounters a pig-tailed young fan with a disquieting smirk who unblinkingly stares at Skye during a photo opp. Later at her swanky Manhattan apartment, the entity that’s crept into her brain plays nasty tricks on her, further undermining her shaky stability. Before long, the boundaries between the real and unreal blur beyond recognition, although Finn only gets moderate mileage out of the fact that everything taking place is unreliable—and that chaos could therefore erupt at any moment.
Smile 2’s most bravura sequence is its prologue, in which police officer Joel (Kyle Gallner), who was damned at the conclusion of Smile, strives to rid himself of the curse by passing it on to a pair of drug dealers—a scheme depicted in a breakneck single-take, the director’s camera moving between interior and exterior spaces with striking agility. Less exciting is any scene involving Skye’s artistic duties, given that they provide scant opportunities to unsettle. As with its forebearer, the film has a nasty streak, and yet at regular intervals, it opts to dawdle on incidents and interactions that neither forward the plot in interesting ways nor deliver memorable doses of terror. Instead of being ruthless, it’s often content to be routine.
Scott makes for a captivatingly frazzled singer who’s blinded by the limelight, burdened by professional expectations and obligations, and plagued by corrosive compulsions. Smile 2, however, doesn’t offer another character that’s more than a sketch, and via Peter Jacobson’s mysterious New Yorker—who reaches out to Skye with crucial information about her predicament—it bestows its heroine with a too-convenient-by-half fount of wisdom and possible savior. None of these shortcomings would matter much if the material consistently rattled and battered one’s nerves. Unfortunately, that’s only intermittently the case, including during a helter-skelter finale that mistakes commotion for horror.
Even so, Smile 2’s signature sight of faces frozen in Joker-esque sneers continues to be aces, and Finn’s technical dexterity—highlighted by a series of topsy-turvy vistas of the Big Apple’s skyline that seem to devilishly scream, “Turn that smile upside down!”—is occasionally exhilarating. His second feature may not be as consistent a rollercoaster ride as his maiden effort, but it gets the job done frequently enough to be a chart-topper—and, more importantly, suggests that its compelling conceit might still be fully exploited by a future series installment.