"the monkey" Review

By Nadia Dalimonte

A still from "The Monkey"

If you can hop aboard the twisted wavelength of “The Monkey,” you are in for a devilishly fun time. But if Osgood Perkins’ looney adaptation of the 1980s Stephen King short story is not your cup of tea, the dark humor and repeatedly nonsensical kills can quickly grow tiresome. In either case, Perkins continues to roll up his sleeves in the horror genre with another stylized vision, one that pivots from the creepy procedural he serves in “Longlegs.” Written and directed by Perkins, “The Monkey” takes a cartoonish approach to the senselessness of death. The film toys with tragedy through a disturbingly sarcastic tone, a drum-banging allegory of trauma, and a self-aware protagonist who becomes increasingly less bewildered by the gruesomeness of an ‘Itchy and Scratchy’ kind of world. Beyond the exploding bodies, there is an intriguing redemptive story about accepting the finality of death, finding levity in loss, and choosing to move forward with the itch of trauma on your back.

No matter how deep you bury trauma, it will resurface sooner or later. Twin brothers Hal and Bill learn this lesson the hard way. As children (both played by Christian Convery), they find their absent father’s old toy monkey in the attic. Despite its ominous supernatural energy, something about it calls out to the twins. The toy is a secret their father kept from them, and perhaps by winding it up, it will conjure some level of family reconciliation. Instead, the monkey causes sudden death and destruction. In the heat of the moment, this cursed toy simply wreaks morbidly entertaining havoc. In the bigger picture, it’s a blunt visual of life and death. The monkey observes as life does, and strikes as death does, without rhyme or reason. Those on the receiving end of the toy’s deadly drumroll have no choice but to face the music, and no amount of running can stop it. For the cursed childhood toy reemerges years later, forcing the estranged twins (both played by Theo James) to reexamine the way they process immeasurable tragedy.

What “The Monkey” conveys quite well is how members of the same family household can share the same loss, but fall down a totally different rabbit hole of grief over time. Hal shuffles through life as a haunted everyman who avoids spending time with his son Petey (Colin O’Brien), fearing the repeat of generational trauma. Bill hides maniacally in pitfalls of shame and blame, waiting for the precise moment to execute personal revenge. The villainy of Bill’s character gives Theo James an opportunity to chew the scenery, which he excels at. But because he is depicted through a zany lens, it’s a little tiring to take him seriously when the film frames him as a threatening presence. As a result, the story starts to fall apart in the film’s second half when Bill guides most of the action, and when the intense sarcasm starts to feel too repetitive.

One of the few things we know about life is that the end is inevitable. As the film’s rookie priest (Nicco Del Rio) says during one of several funerals, “It is what it is, the word to the Lord.” Perkins leans into this sentiment thematically and visually. He processes the immovability of grief with dark comedy, and uses blunt force to drive home the message of “It is what it is” with insane imagery. The supernatural power of the toy monkey is never explained. It doesn’t move around, or speak, or stab characters with drum sticks. It appears out of thin air. It simply exists. Wind up the toy, choose to control its presence, and the most intensely gory deaths will follow. No amount of explaining can make sense of it, which is why the monkey works as an allegory of loss.

People die around us, and we can spend the rest of our lives wrestling with the question of why. Why this person, at this particular time? The lack of control feels akin to a curse that follows you through life, “A monkey on your back.” Perkins wisely embraces the uncertainty, the relentlessness, the absurdity, adding fun tension to the monkey’s presence. As well, Disney’s ownership of the monkey with cymbals (as seen in the “Toy Story” franchise) gives Perkins a more fitting accessory of drums. The film literally drums up anticipation for the next ridiculous kill, moving to an unsettling rhythm. The monkey’s design also speaks to the creepiness of old toys, or even toy commercials, that often carry a sinister tone whether intentional or not. Beyond the concept of the toy itself, the world-building also fits neatly into Perkins’ vision. And whether intended or not,  some of the film’s set design echoes faint slices of “Psycho.”

Some comparisons have been drawn between “The Monkey” and the “Final Destination” franchise, as both follow a morbid death pattern. Both utilize the act of ominously showing us what’s going to kill the characters before they die. While both feature extremely gory sequences, “Final Destination” instills more fear around the subject of death, evoking nerves around everyday objects and even causing one to avoid certain things (tanning beds, personally). “The Monkey” plays in the vein of pure absurdity, quite literally adopting the message of “Everybody dies, and it is what it is,” which creates more thematic resonance around the subject. The ridiculously brutal sequence of the motel swimmer, as an intense phone call transpires between adult Hal and Bill, best exemplifies the tone Perkins goes for. He excels at establishing this tone, and crafting a buildup in the first half, but lacks the power of consistency. While a lot of the freak accidents are fun to watch, the pointing and laughing at death eventually becomes redundant and lapses in tension.

Despite the inconsistent tonal effect, the film has a formidable star in Theo James, who balances the sardonic personality of Hal with the maniacal desperation of Bill. Between the two characters, James conveys more layers of his talent and charisma. He also conveys an impactful wink and nudge to the audience, as Hal gets progressively more accepting of the messed up scenarios happening around him. James locks into the absurd tone and believably carries the redemptive character arcs of both twins. While the film lends James a decent showcase, the same cannot be said for Tatiana Maslany and especially Elijah Wood, whose talents feel wasted and far too fleeting in the overall story. As Hal and Bill’s mother Lois, Maslany shows an incredibly acute understanding of the film’s tone; she balances the sarcastic, silly, and ominous elements of Perkins’ strangely crafted world. Sadly her character leaves a lot to be desired, and her presence is under-utilized. Meanwhile, the buildup to Wood as Petey’s holier-than-thou stepdad Ted amounts to a glorified cameo. Rounding out the supporting cast, Osgood Perkins makes a humorous appearance as Hal and Bill’s uncle Chip, the first to admit he probably wouldn’t do a good job at raising the twins. Sarah Levy (a standout on “Schitt’s Creek”) shows a new side to her talent as the twins’ aunt Ida, who gets nothing to do other than follow the ride and exemplify how gory the film can get.

While not without its faults, the idea of characters dying around a toy monkey in ridiculous ways is met with fitting sardonic absurdity in “The Monkey.” Perkins’ cartoonish, Looney Tunes-style of storytelling draws out the nonsensical side of mortality and grief. Does it all make sense? Not quite, but there is something refreshing about a film of this genre that avoids explaining the whys and hows of an evil presence or entity. In "The Monkey," it carries enough weight simply by existing.

​"The Monkey" is now playing in theaters across Canada.