"It's a bad monkey. It's a bad magic killer monkey."
With last year's Longlegs, writer/director Osgood Perkins burst onto the horror scene, proving he could properly craft an atmospheric genre film that was equal parts creepy, intriguing, and unsettling. Though that film thrived off a brilliant performance by Nicolas Cage, the story was there to showcase Perkins' keen eye and get fans excited for what was to come.
Enter The Monkey.
Adapted from a 1985 short story by Stephen King, the film marks a sharp detour from Perkins' previous work. Gone are the stylistic horror pieces, filled with tone, mood, and devilish energy. In their place, we get laughs, awkwardness, and a two-foot-tall monkey that wreaks havoc whenever its key is turned.
We first catch sight of the monkey during the film's opening sequence. An airplane pilot (Adam Scott) rushes into a dimly lit pawn shop, desperate to rid themselves of the toy. The turnkey in the back prompts the apparatus to move its arms, banging a drum as his mouth opens to showcase a set of teeth displayed in a violent, diabolical grin.
Once the monkey's stick strikes the drum, someone is about to die. And that death is going to be gruesome. At this exact moment, the victim is the pawnshop owner as a slew of carefully crafted events are set into motion that ultimately set off a spear that pierces his abdomen. The spear then flies backward, bringing twenty feet of small intestines out as it stretches across the shop like a rope.
How is that for an introduction?
Shortly thereafter, we meet our two main characters, our narrator, a calm, introverted middle-school-aged nerd named Hal, and his hateful, abusive bully of a twin brother, Bill. While digging through a closet, the pair discover the monkey sealed away in a round box with the words like life inscribed on the outside. The box belonged to their late father, Capt. Petey Shelburn, who we assume was the pilot from the opening scene. By the time they fully realize the power the monkey possesses, their mother has died of a freak aneurysm. This death seals the loathing and disgust between them as their resentment grows deeper the older they become.
Eventually, the brothers grow up. Theo James embraces both of their personalities, pulling double duty as he navigates the rough terrain, working to conjure up a feeling of sympathy and understanding. He achieves his desires to a degree, but Perkins struggles to make any of his characters worthy of heartfelt sentiment.
As an adult, Hal has custody of his son once a year. The rest of the film takes place during the week they spend together. Bill eventually shows up, as any good sub-villain does, but his impact on the story proves minimal. Years ago, the brothers chained the monkey in its box and threw it down a dark well. Naturally, they can't rid themselves of the thing that easily. Its curse, though highly metaphysical, also feels personal as, after twenty-five years, death begins to hit their hometown hard.
As the brothers navigate their newfound issues, and Hal's son learns of the extended family his father never informed him about, Perkins attempts to reign in the plenitude of themes and plot points that have migrated away from the story's core central message. Here, we realize that the film has prioritized gruesome, highly absurd, and ridiculous kill shots over its story and characters.
As the film hits its pivotal third act, James works hard to bring a degree of emotion to our protagonist. Though we feel for his loss, our investment level is low regarding his survival. When the climax comes and goes without much of a whisper, it becomes evident that this short story adaptation was crafted more for B-horror laughs and scares. While I don't entirely oppose it, and I did admittedly enjoy myself, there is a better film at the center of this universe. Perkins should have excelled with this material, but his attempt at diversifying his early portfolio backfires. Instead, a potentially terrifying film proves good and entertaining, but not all that menacing.
