TL;DR: IT: Welcome to Derry Episode 3 finally gives us what we’ve been waiting for — Pennywise’s return — and it’s as eerie, emotional, and expertly constructed as any scene in Muschietti’s films. With its blend of supernatural lore, Cold War paranoia, and small-town tragedy, this episode cements the series as one of the best horror prequels in years. The clown’s back — and Derry will never sleep again.
It: Welcome to Derry
I’ve been waiting for this moment since HBO greenlit IT: Welcome to Derry. Not the Cold War conspiracy subplot. Not the “kids discover a supernatural horror in small-town Maine” nostalgia. No, no — I’ve been waiting for that first realglimpse of Pennywise. The moment when dread stops being theoretical and starts gnawing at your spine. Episode 3, “Now You See It,” finally gives us that — and it’s both horrifying and heartbreakingly effective.
By now, the show has made it clear that it’s not just replaying Stephen King’s greatest hits. It’s carving out its own monstrous mythology — one that mixes cosmic terror, government paranoia, and childhood trauma into a deeply cursed stew. The first two episodes gave us a setup that felt like Stranger Things got lost on the way to The X-Files. Episode 3? It drags us into the sewer and makes us look Pennywise dead in the eyes.
And folks — it’s glorious.
The episode opens on a sepia-toned carnival straight out of a depression-era nightmare. A young boy named Francis wanders into a freak show — because clearly, children in Derry never saw a horror movie. There’s a hall of mirrors, a creepy one-eyed man, and enough ambient dread to make even the bravest kid reconsider their cotton candy.
Turns out this kid grows up to be General Shaw (James Remar), the same hard-nosed military man we met earlier. The flashback adds a delicious bit of tragic irony: Shaw’s first brush with Derry’s evil wasn’t in uniform but in short pants. When Francis and a Native girl named Rose (his childhood savior-slash-first-crush) encounter the monstrous, toothy entity in the woods, the show teases Pennywise’s presence without fully showing him — just a feral shadow with too many teeth and not enough mercy.
It’s a great example of restraint — a reminder that Welcome to Derry knows how to weaponize suspense. In a world where modern horror loves jump scares like TikTok loves trends, the slow-burn dread here feels luxurious. The moment the creature stops at the tree line, we realize something ancient and territorial is at work. Derry isn’t just haunted — it’s owned.
Meanwhile, back in the present-day (well, 1960s-present), the U.S. military is still digging holes like they’re looking for Jimmy Hoffa and not an interdimensional murder clown. Shaw, now all grown up and emotionally calcified, is supervising the excavation of something beneath Derry — a “source of fear” the military thinks it can weaponize.
Because nothing says “military-industrial complex” like trying to bottle evil. This is the kind of plotline that feels like a lost Twilight Zone episode or an unhinged Cold War experiment — if Oppenheimer had decided to summon demons instead of splitting atoms.
Enter Dick Hallorann (Chris Chalk), the same psychic cook from The Shining, now young and gifted, and trying very hard not to lose his mind in a helicopter. His powers connect him to the evil beneath Derry — and when he touches a cigar box containing the slingshot from Shaw’s past, he’s thrust into a psychic vision so intense it makes Doctor Sleep look like a mindfulness app.
The helicopter scene is one of the episode’s highlights: Dick is suddenly in a sewer, knee-deep in water, facing a circus wagon emblazoned with “Pennywise the Dancing Clown.” It’s here we get our first real encounter — two glowing eyes in the darkness, a voice that rumbles like thunder in a nightmare, and an image of floating corpses that makes you want to uninstall your brain.
It’s a chilling moment, beautifully edited, and just ambiguous enough to leave you questioning what’s real. When Dick nearly opens the helicopter hatch mid-flight, convinced he’s in the sewer, it’s a jolt of pure horror filmmaking.
The takeaway? Pennywise doesn’t just live in Derry — he infects it. He’s a frequency you can’t turn off once you’ve tuned in.
While the adults are busy poking the cosmic bear, the kids are busy living out the eternal Stephen King formula: trauma + friendship + bicycles = doom. Lilly, Ronnie, Will, and Rich have officially inherited the “Losers’ Club” energy — though they don’t know it yet.
Their dynamic is refreshing, though. Ronnie (Amanda Christine) brings a grounded emotional center, while Rich (Arian S. Cartaya) provides much-needed humor and skepticism. Lilly’s curiosity drives the group forward, and Will — well, Will’s about to get a crash course in believing the unbelievable.
When the gang decides to perform a kind of DIY séance in a cemetery (because, sure, that always goes well), things go predictably sideways. Their candles flicker, Spanish prayers hang in the air, and before long, their dead friends — the kids slaughtered in Episode 1 — start floating toward them like undead marionettes. It’s creepy, yes, but it’s also heartbreaking. The series keeps reminding us that Derry feeds on grief as much as fear.
Lilly’s camera captures a few haunting shots during their escape, but it’s the final photo that seals the deal — a blurry shape with glowing eyes and the unmistakable silhouette of a clown. It’s not just a tease. It’s confirmation. The monster has arrived, and it’s hungry.
We don’t get a full, glorious shot of Bill Skarsgård’s new incarnation yet (that’s coming — and the show knows we’re salivating for it), but this is the first time the series truly feels like IT. The way shadows move, the faint laughter echoing through the soundtrack, the lingering shot of those eyes — it’s an exercise in anticipation.
But what makes Episode 3 stand out isn’t just that we see Pennywise — it’s that we understand how deep his roots go. The flashbacks, the psychic visions, and Rose’s warning about the land all point to a mythology that predates even King’s original novel. Welcome to Derry is rewriting the history of fear itself, and it’s doing so with a confidence that’s downright unnerving.
This is no longer just a prequel; it’s a generational curse narrative masquerading as a government thriller. And I’m here for every unsettling second of it.
Three episodes in, Welcome to Derry has fully found its rhythm. It’s atmospheric without being slow, emotional without being sappy, and creepy without resorting to cheap scares. The writing finally trusts the audience — and the show’s world feels richer for it.
Episode 3 also delivers something the previous two lacked: a sense of connection between the town’s past and present horrors. It’s not just about what’s lurking in the sewers anymore — it’s about how Derry itself is a living organism, feeding off the people who live there.
The horror isn’t just Pennywise’s teeth. It’s memory. It’s guilt. It’s history repeating itself.
And that’s what makes this episode such a terrifying triumph.
