Smile 2 — The Sequel That Grins with Someone Else’s Teeth (And They’re Not Even Its Own)

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Contemporary horror cinema has a serious problem: it mistakes repetition for reinvention. Smile 2 is the perfect symptom of this disease. Parker Finn, director of the original Smile (2022), returns with a sequel that not only fails to surpass its predecessor but doesn’t even bother justifying its existence. The result? A film that ticks like Swiss clockwork in technical terms but lacks soul, risk, and—above all—that spark of madness that made the first film so unsettlingly memorable. If horror cinema is the genre that best reflects society’s fears, Smile 2 is the cinematic equivalent of an anxiety attack triggered by Netflix’s algorithm: predictable, cold, and designed to be consumed without leaving a trace.

Paramount Pictures and Temple Hill Entertainment, the producers behind this monstrosity, seem to have learned the wrong lesson from the first film’s success. Instead of delving deeper into trauma, guilt, and social pressure—elements that made Smile such a claustrophobic experience—they’ve chosen to repeat the formula like a cookbook recipe. The problem isn’t that Smile 2 is bad—though it is—but that it’s unnecessary. It’s as if someone took the first film’s script, ran it through an AI filter, and added a couple of new scares to justify the budget. The result is a movie that feels like a remake of itself, but with less ambition and more ear-splitting sound effects.

The premise, at least on paper, had potential. Naomi Scott plays Skye Riley, a pop star whose life unravels when she begins experiencing terrifying visions during her world tour. The idea of exploring horror through the lens of a celebrity—complete with media pressure and the loneliness of fame—could have been fascinating. It could have been a scathing critique of the entertainment industry, a reflection on fame as a prison, or even a metaphor for mental health in the age of social media. But no. Instead, Smile 2 stays on the surface, like a tourist snapping photos of a monument without bothering to read the plaque. Finn’s script is an exercise in narrative laziness: the characters are shallow archetypes, the dialogue sounds like a first-year screenwriter’s template, and the scares, though well-executed, lack the sense of inevitability that made the first film so disturbing.

Filming for Smile 2 began in February 2024, and according to Finn, the goal was to “expand the universe” of the first film. But expanding isn’t the same as deepening. If the first installment explored trauma through an almost clinical structure, this sequel merely repeats the same patterns with new characters. It’s as if Finn confused psychological horror with a superhero franchise: more effects, more characters, more scares, but less heart. And that, ultimately, is what stings about Smile 2: it’s not that it’s a bad movie, but that it’s a movie that didn’t need to exist. It could have been a knockout, a sequel that outshone its original, but instead, it settles for being a pale echo of what we’ve already seen.

Direction and staging: The frame that frames nothing

Parker Finn proves in Smile 2 that he knows how to shoot a horror film. The problem is he doesn’t seem to know why. The direction is competent, even elegant at times, but it lacks that spark of madness that made the first film so unsettlingly fascinating. Finn relies too heavily on jump scares, those cheap thrills that function as narrative crutches. It’s not that jump scares are inherently bad—horror cinema has used them since the days of Nosferatu—but when they become the only tool, the film loses its ability to generate real tension. And in Smile 2, tension is nowhere to be found.

There’s one shot in particular that perfectly encapsulates the film’s problems. Skye Riley is in her dressing room, getting ready for a concert, when she suddenly sees a sinister figure reflected in the mirror. The camera creeps closer, the sound distorts, and just as you’re about to scream—bam!—a cheap scare. It’s a well-executed moment, but it’s also one we’ve seen a thousand times before. Finn seems obsessed with the idea that horror must be visceral, but he forgets that real horror is psychological. It’s not about startling the audience but making them feel that something is off, that a malevolent presence lurks in the margins of the frame. In Smile 2, that malevolent presence is as predictable as clockwork.

The cinematography by Charlie Sarroff is another of the film’s strengths. Sarroff, who also worked on the first installment, knows how to play with light and shadow to create oppressive atmospheres. There’s a scene where Skye stands in a dark hallway, lit only by the neon signs of her tour posters, that’s visually stunning. The problem is that no matter how good the cinematography is, it can’t save a script that feels like a first draft. Sarroff does what he can with what he’s given, but even he seems aware he’s working on a film that refuses to push beyond the safe and familiar.

Performances: Naomi Scott shines in a cardboard cast

Naomi Scott is, without a doubt, the best thing about Smile 2. Her portrayal of Skye Riley is nuanced, believable, and—above all—human. Scott manages to convey her character’s vulnerability without slipping into melodrama, something the rest of the cast seems utterly incapable of understanding. Rosemarie DeWitt, who plays Skye’s manager, is competent but generic, as if she’s in an episode of Law & Order rather than a horror film. Lukas Gage and Miles Gutierrez-Riley, meanwhile, seem lost, as if they have no idea what they’re doing there. It’s as if Finn gathered a group of talented actors and told them, “Do what you can with this.”

The most frustrating moment in the film comes when Skye has a conversation with her mother, played by DeWitt. The scene should be emotional, a moment of human connection amid the chaos, but instead, it sounds like a soap opera script. “I can’t go on like this,” Skye says, and her mother responds, “You have to be strong.” It’s such a cliché that it hurts. Scott tries to add depth to the moment, but the script abandons her. It’s as if Finn wrote the dialogue with his eyes closed, without bothering to consider what these characters would actually say in such a situation.

The rest of the cast fares no better. Peter Jacobson and Ray Nicholson have such small roles they might as well be glorified extras. Jacobson plays a psychiatrist who, in theory, should be a key figure in the plot but in practice does nothing more than state the obvious. Nicholson, meanwhile, is a journalist who feels like he’s been plucked from a 1990s film. Both actors do what they can, but their characters are so flat they don’t even deserve the effort.

The best

Naomi Scott: The only one who seems to understand she’s in a horror film. Her performance as Skye Riley is the only thing saving Smile 2* from being a complete disaster. Scott conveys her character’s fragility without resorting to histrionics—a lesson the rest of the cast should take note of.

Charlie Sarroff’s cinematography: Sarroff once again proves he knows how to create oppressive atmospheres. Some shots in Smile 2*—like that neon-lit hallway scene—are visually stunning and could have worked in a better film.

A few well-executed scares: Though the film overuses jump scares*, there are a couple of moments that land. The mirror scare in the dressing room, for example, is well-choreographed and manages to surprise—if only for a second.

The worst

• Parker Finn’s script: A masterclass in narrative laziness that recycles the same patterns from the first film without adding anything new. The characters are shallow archetypes, the dialogue sounds like a first-year screenwriter’s template, and the scares, though well-executed, are predictable.

The lack of psychological tension: Smile 2* confuses horror with cheap scares. Instead of building an oppressive atmosphere, it repeats the same tricks over and over, as if the audience were a child who needs to be startled every five minutes.

• The supporting cast: Rosemarie DeWitt, Lukas Gage, Miles Gutierrez-Riley, Peter Jacobson, and Ray Nicholson seem lost, as if they have no idea what they’re doing there. Their characters are so flat they don’t even deserve the actors’ efforts.

The wasted premise: The idea of exploring horror through the lens of a celebrity had potential, but Smile 2* stays on the surface. It could have been a fierce critique of the entertainment industry, but instead, it’s a film that refuses to take risks.

The Verdict of Claqueta Ácida

Smile 2 is the sequel no one asked for and, deep down, no one needed. Parker Finn proves he knows how to shoot a horror film, but he also proves he has nothing new to say. Naomi Scott salvages what she can from this shipwreck, but not even her talent can compensate for a script that feels like a recycled draft. Paramount Pictures and Temple Hill Entertainment bet on playing it safe, and safe, in this case, is boring. If you wanted a film that repeats the same scares over and over, here it is. If you were looking for something more, keep walking. Horror cinema deserves better than this. 💀
tweets_alternativos:

• "@ParkerFinnDir, entre tu primer Smile y este Smile 2 hay la misma diferencia que entre un plano secuencia de Tarkovski y un tutorial de TikTok. ¿Dónde se perdió el alma? #CineDeTerror"
• "Naomi Scott en Smile 2: la única que parece saber que está en una película de terror. El resto del reparto actúa como si estuvieran en un episodio de 'Gossip Girl' con máscaras de latex. @naomiascott @SmileMovie"
• "Paramount, ¿de verdad creías que repetir la fórmula de Smile iba a funcionar? Esto no es una secuela, es un remake con presupuesto recortado y menos ideas. @ParamountPics #Smile2"

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