“Smile 2” Puts a Pop Filter on a Devastating Story
The past few years have seen longtime horror fans begin to groan at cinematic creatures doubling as allegories for trauma. The Descent and The Babadook (my personal favorites) arguably kicked off a modern trend of contemplative horror exploring monstrous manifestations of mental illness and after nearly two decades of repetition, the fad is beginning to wear thin. I am not one of these horror fans. I will never get enough of seeing the human response to pain monstracized and defeated on the big screen. But no one is doing this quite like Parker Finn. Watching the original Smile for the first time felt like a punch to the gut. I was shocked by Finn’s nightmarish depiction of PTSD and the nihilistic conclusion that guilt will consume you. I felt hopeless and interpreted the film as a dismal portrayal of failed recovery. Two years later, I still balk at the deep darkness of this harrowing story, but I now find the biting depiction of trauma cathartic. Smile is a grim reminder that overcoming mental illness is an arduous process—one that we might not survive. Smile 2 may put a shiny, pop filter over addiction and recovery, but its message still hits just as hard.
Skye Riley (Naomi Scott) is making a comeback. One year after a devastating car wreck that killed her boyfriend and left her seriously injured, the singer has pulled her life together and gotten sober. Now she’s embarking on a massive arena tour that will hopefully signal a return to form and put her back on the road to international stardom. But lingering pain from her injuries causes an ill-advised visit to Lewis (Lukas Gage), a sketchy acquaintance who occasionally hooks her up with vicodin. When she arrives, Skye finds Lewis in the grips of deep delusion. A familiar monster has been tormenting him with disturbing visions masked by a hideous smile. After witnessing Lewis’s gruesome death, Skye becomes the next host for this vicious parasite who delights in exacerbating stressful memories. Combined with this torment, the pressure of mounting an expensive tour puts a strain on her only support systems and threatens to push Skye over the edge.
Finn takes the bones of his original story and adds a heavy dose of glitter and pop. Skye’s upcoming tour features prominently in the story and a modern performance vibe permeates the film. But rather than exciting window dressing, Finn uses this element of Skye’s life to explore the burden of worldwide fame. Her underlying misery stems from substance abuse which in turn becomes a coping mechanism to survive living under constant scrutiny and a media environment ready to pick her apart for the smallest infraction. We’re introduced to the pop icon promoting her tour as a guest on the Drew Barrymore show where she apologizes for her addiction and the wreck that almost took her life—a PR move designed to repair her image. After this public humiliation, each day becomes a non-stop performance designed to reassure everyone that she’s no longer troubled. When Skye begs for a break, she’s reminded of the enormous stakes and told that the world will not allow another misstep. Even pushing back a performance date could be interpreted as a sign of weakness or relapse. Smile 2 is an uncomfortable reminder of the impossible standards we place on female celebrities. It’s not enough to be attractive and talented, they must also be role models projecting an image of inhuman perfection. One watches and wonders if the price of fame may be more monstrous than the soul-crushing creature.
Scott is fantastic in this demanding role, mastering the nuances of a woman in early recovery. Her slow unraveling brings to life a fear carried deep in the hearts of most recovering addicts—that one slip will spiral and send us careening back into the hopeless void we’ve tried so hard to escape. Skye’s inevitable descent allows us to exorcize our fears of relapse and ruin while providing motivation to stay the course. In addition to this vulnerability, Scott also showcases her impressive musical skills. Finn goes all out in staging this would-be concert with luxurious costumes, captivating choreography, and jaw-dropping musical numbers we would kill to see live. Horror infuses these meta performances as the creature works its way into Skye’s head. In what is arguably the film’s strongest scene, her backup dancers appear in her apartment, slowly encircling the frightened singer with sinister grins. Not only does Finn make smart use of his extended cast, this unnerving sequence reinforces the isolation Skye feels as the monster strengthens its hold on her.
In addition to Scott, Smile 2 overflows with fantastic performances. Kyle Gallner opens the film, providing a grisly answer to the shocking conclusion of Finn’s original story. Gage kicks off the horror in Skye’s life with a horrific, yet slightly humorous suicide scene. Though he plays the role of a paranoid addict very well, his expressive face becomes the perfect canvas for this sinister monster and it’s likely he was cast purely on the power of his disturbing smile. Rosemary DeWitt grounds the story as Skye’s long-suffering mother and manager. Walking a metaphorical tightrope, she struggles to find the balance between supporting her daughter and holding a recovering addict’s feet to the fire. Miles Gutierrez-Riley steals several scenes as her downtrodden assistant Joshua, providing brief moments of humor while serving as the audience’s conduit for the unfolding horror. But the film’s secret weapon is Ray Nicholson as Skye’s dead boyfriend Paul. He symbolizes the source of her trauma and reappears at the worst possible moment. Channeling his father’s unnerving persona, Nicholson adds an intoxicating element of menace to every scene in which he appears.
Once again Finn pulls us into the grips of a nightmare with disorienting angles and horrific sound design. Long stretches of the story play out untethered from reality and it’s sometimes impossible to differentiate between what’s actually happening and the monster’s design. As in the original film, Finn delivers several well-placed jump scares, but none feel cheap or unearned. They are merely one tool in an extensive arsenal that Finn uses to destabilize the audience and assault our senses. But this terror runs alongside a current of irreverent humor. Moments of levity feel like grains of salt that bring out the flavor of delicious chocolate. Where Smile often feels overwhelmingly dark, its sequel cuts the tension with moments of humor that provide a false sense of security before Finn brings us crashing down into the depths of horrific despair.
Finn delights in ramping elements of his original story up to eleven and gives us a gorier, funnier, and altogether more devastating allegory for the struggle to overcome mental illness and addiction. The shocking finale feels simultaneously inevitable and unbelievable, setting us up for another devastating chapter. While not exactly hopeful, Smile 2 does feel like a powerful exploration of PTSD without feeling trite or exploitative. The terrifying truth is that mental illness often feels like a monster living in our minds and no matter how hard we try to move on, sometimes it escapes and swallows us whole.
Jenn Adams is a writer, podcaster, and film critic from Nashville, TN. Find her social media nonsense @jennferatu.