After becoming a household name among both horror and movie fanatics alike after 2024's Longlegs, Osgood Perkins continues his killing spree with no intention of stopping anytime soon. Deviating from the bleak, ambient slow burns that audiences have grown accustomed to from his prior films, Perkins returns with The Monkey, a retelling of Stephen King's 1980 short story of the same name, revelling in its black comedy as much as it does its kills.
Diverging from King's original story featuring a single protagonist, twin brothers Hal and Bill (both played by Christian Convery) inherit their father's (Adam Scott) wind-up monkey, which, as the twins continuously insist throughout the film, is no mere toy. With a turn of the key on its back, the monkey kills whoever it wants, as theatrically as it can at the drop of one of its drumsticks.
Twenty-five years later, Hal and Bill (now portrayed by Theo James) have become estranged, with Hal trying to masquerade normalcy, withdrawing from his family and son Petey (Colin O'Brien) in an attempt to keep them safe. However, as people start dying in their childhood hometown in Maine, Hal is forced to confront the horrors of his youth. How's that for monkey business?
Both James and Convery offer compelling and versatile performances as the twins at different stages of their lives. Both versions of Hal are sympathetic enough, as the majority of his torment comes from his brother Bill. The brothers' dynamic and clashing personalities fuels the tone of the film, painting Hal as the comedic foil who grimaces as yet another person explodes (literally) in his face, and Bill as the loose cannon who devotes himself to the monkey with a religious fervour.
The Monkey reveals a playful side to Perkins, who gleefully takes his audience through each Final Destination-esque kill that manages to be gorier than the last. Ranging from a victim being turned into human soup after being crushed to death to a swarm of hornets finding a new home inside of a character's head, Perkins pushes his creativity and moviegoers' capacity to withstand violence on screen. Similar to his leading man, Perkins serves double duty as both director and screenwriter for the film, and alongside producer James Wan (who boasts horror franchise giants like Saw, Insidious and The Conjuring on his CV, the two revel in the film's gory imagery with a wry sense of humour befitting of a killer toy monkey film.
The monkey itself is an oppressive presence throughout the events of the film, a feat that Perkins achieves through clever camerawork and impressive sound design. The camera lingers on the monkey's victims, really allowing its audience to squirm in disgust upon each gory reveal. "Everybody dies. Some of us peacefully, some of us in our sleep, and some of us horribly," the twins' mother Lois (Tatiana Maslany) tells the boys during their childhood. "And that's life." The victims of The Monkey aren't afraid to go out without leaving a lasting impression on their audience.
In the wake of all of this death, the film flits around the theme of inappropriate reactions to grief. Disappointingly, a genuine attempt at exploring this theme, revealing an interesting and complex side of the two brothers, is played away for laughs that cuts the tension entirely. What could have been a refreshing exploration of grief gets crushed beneath the monkey's drum.
While the comedic success of the film lies in its timing, visual gags and physical action, the generous sprinkling of jokes often fumbles the landing. The film's lack of sincerity is a deficit, preventing its audience from connecting with any of the characters on a deeper level and weighing down any attempts at an emotional revelation.
The Monkey delights in its macabre sense of humour and over-the-top kills. There's no explanation for the monkey's bloodlust, and there's no need for one either — give in to the absurdity, and The Monkey finds its strength.