I Didn’t Survive The Clown-Only Screening Of ‘It’ — I Thrived

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It should go without saying (but I’m going to say it anyway), that like any other semi-sane individual, I don’t like run-of-the-mill clowns. It’s not so much their appearance that irks me. I mean, most girls coming out of Sephora look pretty comparable. No, what I hate about clowns is the forced interaction. The audience participation. Like old standup comedians or that pesky uncle who asks about your insecurities over Thanksgiving dinner, they’re just too… persistent. I don’t want to pretend to laugh while you point at me. I don’t want to go on stage while you ride around me on a tiny bike. And if we’re being completely honest, I’d rather fucking die than look like the bozo while some nerd in greasepaint taunts me.

Which is why, while I hate classic clowns, I’m a big fan of creepy clowns. Because before creepy clowns became a thing, everyone just secretly thought they were creepy. But, since the circus or whatever was popular, you had to pretend to like them. Now though, because creepy clowns have come along and owned what it truly means to be a clown, the world can let out a sigh of relief. Clowns aren’t pretending to try to make you laugh or make your day better. They’re here for one reason and one reason only: to fuck you up.

So, when it was announced that the Alamo Drafthouse (easily the best movie theater on the planet) was hosting a clown-only screening of the movie It in Austin, I purchased the last two tickets (front row because, fuck me) and immediately ordered a teeny tiny hat off of Amazon.

The actual movie started at 7 p.m., but the theater’s very fitting bar, Barrel O’ Fun, hosted a clown party before. And if you’ve never gotten drunk with a shitton of clowns in a carnival themed bar, then it’s really time you get your priorities in order. Between carnival games, fun house mirrors, a face painting booth, and themed drinks, I truly felt like I was a carny, minus the small hands. Unfortunately, after a mere two drinks and eye contact with tons of people who looked like they would murder me in my sleep, we were informed that it was time to head up to the theater.

Now, as I previously mentioned, I got the last tickets to the 7 p.m. showing (and at the time, the only showing) which means I got just about the worst seats you can imagine. Right in the very front row.

Normally, this would have been enough to make me scrap my plans of going to the movies altogether, but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity (and since It got an impressive 87% on Rotton Tomatoes, I could ignore the shoddy CGI and give it a chance). And it was only after I sat down in the front and flagged down my waiter for another drink that I realized this horrible seating choice would actually turn out in my favor.

You see, as the Alamo spokesperson said at the front of the theater as we were settling in, they wanted to “break the internet.” Don’t we all, Alamo? In an attempt to do that, however, they took a shitton of pictures and videos of their crazy group of clowns. And guess who was in the fucking front? This bitch.

And, because I guess the whole screening wasn’t actually only about me, here are a few more shots from the evening of clown hell.

All in all, the movie was decent, the kid from Stranger Things killed, and getting drunk in a clown costume is the only way to be in a clown costume. Ultimately what I learned though, is that just because something seems scary from the outside, from the inside, it’s usually pretty great. You know, like cults. Or killer clowns. If you saw one running toward you, it would suck. But if you *are* the killer clown? Life is actually pretty fun.

Oh, if you’re going to an event that boasts about “wanting to break the internet,” always sit in the front row..

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Rachel Varina

if it doesn't have snack or seats, i'm not there. hate mail/Sunny references can be sent to itsrachelvarina@gmail.com

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