Oz Perkins is back with his follow-up to Longlegs, which feels very much like a companion piece to his previous take on generational trauma by way of a very loose, yet strikingly authentic Stephen King adaptation. Based on the story The Monkey – from Skeleton Crew, the film builds on the bones of that narrative of a toy monkey that when activated, wreaks havoc. Here activating the mechanical monkey instead results in one random and spectacularly freakish gory death – but you can’t tell the monkey who to kill and you won’t know when it will happen. The film follows Hal, whose family was torn apart by the cursed object, which came into their possession thanks to their father (Adam Scott in an all too brief cameo), an airline pilot who brought it back one day as a simple souvenir.
Like a good portion of King’s properties the film starts as something akin to a coming of age story in a simpler time; here the 90s (Ouch!). Hal and his brother Bill in their tweens discover the monkey while going through their father’s belongings, some time after his disappearance from their lives. It’s here the film starts its thematic exploration of the lengths parents would go to protect their family and their consequences on both parties. This is because we as an audience, thanks to a completely batshit crazy opening scene – have witnessed that Hal’s father’s absence was in fact related to an unsuccessful attempt to get rid of the monkey. The two brothers quickly figure out the crux of the monkey’s powers thanks to a few very impactful deaths they incur on those around them, prompting them to dump the toy in a well. The problem is, like all terrible family secrets, 25 years later the Monkey returns.
It’s these thematic threads of family secrets and generational trauma that echoes back not only to Longlegs, but in particular to our director Oz Perkins, who obviously used the film to once again work through some of his own issues. Perkins’ father Anthony Perkins, star of Psycho, lived a double life as a closeted gay man in the public eye, and was even married to a woman for his entire life. He hid his HIV diagnosis from his family for six years, only to be outed by the National Inquirer and then succumbing to the virus 2 years later. In the film this thematic thread is explored by not only young Hal who doesn’t understand why his dad chose to abandon him, but how he later understands the lengths a father would go to protect his children from the monkey, when it comes to his own son.
Along with the crazy ass deaths, there are some stark parallels that make this film much more personal that you would think, adding a bittersweet layer to the film’s more comedic and absurdist moments.
Visually the film is a lush and blood drenched spectacle, that has the unique ability of making you both wince and cackle at the same time. The violence here almost feels like a response to the horror fans who complained that Longlegs was too cerebral and lacked the gore and bodycount they projected on the film thanks to its marketing campaign. It’s all here, splattered across the silver screen in plenty of holy shit moments. The script is also mired with a dense poignant subtext that is countered with the larger than life, almost cartoonish absurdity that reminded me of all films Maximum Overdrive. That’s a film with a very similar internal battle of tones, which offers up the best reproduction of King’s trademark humor that is usually only available in literary form. I hadn’t read the story before I sat down, but after watching the film I read it and realized all these moments that I swore were King’s invention belonged to Perkins.
The fact that Oz’s deeply personal script can spend its runtime operating on these dual bandwidths is primarily thanks to Theo James, who here turns in a damn masterful performance as both Hal and his twin brother Bill as adults. It’s not simply a gimmick, a la Lifetime Network either, each twin literally leans into their side of the tone coin presented here and Theo does this code switch flawlessly. There’s also something in his delivery of the dialog that, depending on his role, feels so deliberate and given so much thought. There’s a palpable weight and warmth to Hal’s dialog in its delivery. It’s something that guides the audience on this journey, since he of course does the trademark King voiceover as well.
Here I am a week later still processing the horror The Monkey, it’s a dense meal for horror fans that has the gore fans want, but also a deep unnerving subtext as well. It’s easily one of my favorite horror films of this year so far, BUT — if you happen to know about the writer/director’s backstory the film morphs into completely different work that’s elevated by the demons Perkins has trapped in celluloid for all to see. The Monkey as far as I am concerned locks Perkins as one of the best horror auteurs working today, because adapting King isn’t easy, but here he takes a story and while infusing it with his own ideals and life experience, also infuses it with King’s trademark pitch black humor that I think only Romero was able to reproduce and present on screen properly. The Monkey is an instant horror classic, fueled by some very real trauma that manifests itself in one of the most entertaining absurdist horror films of the last few years.
