A Gory, Goofy Horror-Comedy That’s Equal Parts Thrilling and Uneven
Horror fans have been riding high on Osgood Perkins’ wave since Longlegs took 2024 by storm, so when The Monkey—his adaptation of Stephen King’s 1980 short story—hit theaters on February 21, 2025, expectations were sky-high. Starring Theo James in dual roles as twin brothers Hal and Bill Shelburn, with Tatiana Maslany, Christian Convery, and a cameo-packed ensemble (Adam Scott, Elijah Wood), this 98-minute splatter-fest promises a wild blend of gore and dark comedy. Based on King’s tale of a cursed toy monkey that triggers gruesome deaths, Perkins trades slow-burn dread for a blood-soaked romp. After catching it on the big screen, I’m torn—it’s a chaotic blast that delivers on inventive kills, but its tonal tightrope walk doesn’t always land. Here’s why The Monkey is both a riot and a riddle.
A Bloody, Bananas Opening
The Monkey doesn’t mess around. It cold-opens with Adam Scott as the twins’ father, bloodied and frantic, trying to ditch the titular toy—a wind-up monkey with a drum that, when cranked, unleashes Rube Goldberg-esque death traps. The prologue sets the tone: absurd, gory, and darkly funny. Cut to young Hal and Bill (both Christian Convery), who stumble upon the monkey in their attic after their dad bolts. One crank later, their babysitter’s toast in a freak accident, and the body count begins. Maslany’s Lois, their laid-back mom, shrugs off the chaos with a “that’s life” quip over ice cream in a cemetery—a scene that’s as oddly touching as it is twisted.
Fast-forward 25 years, and Theo James takes over as the estranged adult twins. Hal’s a jittery dad to Petey (Colin O’Brien), haunted by the past, while Bill’s a boozy loose cannon. When the monkey resurfaces—despite being chucked down a well decades ago—the brothers reunite to stop its killing spree. The setup’s simple, but Perkins turns it into a playground for mayhem. The first half hums with energy, piling on deaths that are as hilarious as they are horrific—an electrified pool, a flaming head, a shotgun misfire. It’s Final Destination meets Braindead, and I was all in for the ride.
Theo James and a Killer Cast
Theo James anchors this madness, juggling Hal’s anxious restraint and Bill’s unhinged swagger with aplomb. Convery’s younger twins are equally solid, capturing the innocence-to-trauma pipeline with wide-eyed charm. Maslany steals scenes as Lois, her dry wit a perfect foil to the carnage, while cameos like Elijah Wood (a stoner priest) and Scott (a doomed dad) add quirky flavor. The ensemble’s game, clearly having a blast, which makes the film’s absurdity infectious.
The technical chops impress too. Nico Aguilar’s cinematography—moody yet vibrant—pairs with Graham Fortin and Greg Ng’s razor-sharp editing to keep the pace relentless. Jesper Kyd’s score, spiked with Vishal Bhardwaj’s retro Bollywood nods, amplifies the chaos. It’s a lean, mean 98 minutes with no fat—just blood, guts, and a drumming monkey that’s equal parts creepy and camp.
Where It Stumbles: Tone and Depth
But here’s the rub: The Monkey can’t decide what it wants to be. Perkins pivots hard from Longlegs’ dread to a horror-comedy hybrid, and while the shift’s bold, it’s uneven. The gore’s a hoot—think a cheerleading squad celebrating a corpse haul—but the humor often lands flat. X users call it “silly” and “goofy,” and I get it; lines like “cherry pie in a sleeping bag” (post-horse stampede) aim for dark laughs but feel forced. The comedy’s too smug at times, winking at its own nihilism without earning the payoff, leaving me more annoyed than amused.
The narrative falters too. After a killer midpoint montage of random deaths, the third act veers off the rails. The monkey’s return sparks a twin reunion, but the stakes feel muddled. A twist about its mechanics is clever but undercooked, and the climax—a sentimental swerve about grief and family—clashes with the earlier anarchy. Perkins, whose mom died on 9/11 and dad succumbed to AIDS, infuses personal loss into the story (absentee fathers, random death), yet it’s buried under slapstick. The “everybody dies” ethos wants to say something profound, but it’s lost in the shuffle of exploding heads.
A Mixed Bag of Madness
The Monkey thrives when it embraces its absurdity. The kills are a gory glory—creative, over-the-top, unforgettable. A bowling ball to the skull? A harpoon gone rogue? I haven’t grinned this much at carnage since Evil Dead Rise. But a horror-comedy needs balance, and this one’s lopsided. The laughs don’t match the shocks, and the plot’s too thin to sustain its runtime. X posts range from “bananas banger” to “huge letdown,” mirroring my own tug-of-war. It’s not boring—never that—but it’s not the cohesive gut-punch Longlegs was either.
Verdict: A Wild, Flawed Ride
I’m landing at 3.5 out of 5 for The Monkey. It’s a visceral, unapologetic thrill ride that reaffirms Perkins as a horror maverick—his knack for gonzo set pieces is unmatched. Theo James shines, the gore delivers, and the monkey itself is a batshit delight. Yet, the tonal whiplash and shallow script keep it from greatness. It’s less a King adaptation than a Perkins fever dream, and while I admire the swing, it doesn’t always connect.
For horror buffs and dark-comedy fiends, it’s a theater must—those kills demand a crowd’s gasps and giggles. Casual viewers might find it too random, too juvenile. The Monkey is a bloody good time that doesn’t quite stick the landing—but damn, it’s fun watching it try. Catch it now, and decide if you’re laughing with it or at it.
