You ever watch something so weird, so wildly unhinged, that you walk out of the theater grinning like a lunatic, half-convinced you just hallucinated the whole thing? That’s The Monkey—a gloriously deranged fever dream of cruel deaths, deep-seated childhood trauma, and cackling absurdity. Imagine Twin Peaks if it was directed by John Waters, but with a murderous toy monkey at its core. Osgood Perkins has officially lost his mind in the best way possible, delivering the best Stephen King adaptation in decades.
“..so weird, so wildly unhinged, that [you’ll] walk out of the theater grinning like a lunatic”
It all starts when twin brothers Hal and Bill (played as children by Christian Convery and as adults by Theo James) stumble upon their father’s old toy monkey in a closet. The thing looks like it’s been pulled straight from a cursed auction listing, complete with piercing glass eyes and a tiny drum that beats out a rhythm of impending doom. But this is no ordinary childhood relic—when the monkey starts playing, people start dying. Desperate to escape its grasp, the brothers ditch the toy and go their separate ways. Years later, Hal, now a washed-up, deeply pathetic but still somehow loveable adult, is forced to confront the horror again when the deaths start up once more. Bill, on the other hand, has transformed into an overconfident deadbeat off the deep end, reveling in chaos. And so, the brothers reluctantly reunite for one last, ridiculous attempt to destroy the indestructible.
Despite being based on a mere Stephen King short story, The Monkey feels rich, full, and unpredictable. The film jumps through time, revisits key moments from new angles, and keeps you teetering on the edge of “what the hell is going to happen next?” The premise—a cursed monkey doll that refuses to be destroyed and murders anyone who messes with it—is deliciously simple, yet the execution is anything but. There’s a Goodfellas-esque quality to its first-person narration, dragging us through Hal’s boy-to-man journey of being tormented by a homicidal toy. It’s equal parts tragic and absurd, and somehow, that balance works perfectly.
And let’s talk performances because damn. Theo James is having the time of his life, delivering a beautifully pathetic Hal while going full chaotic sleazebag as Bill. Christian Convery, playing both young Hal and Bill, is so convincing in each role that I didn’t even realize it was the same kid until writing this review. Young Hal is timid, bullied, and constantly overshadowed by Lil’ Bill, who is aggressive, dominant, and constantly trying to prove he’s in control. Convery flips between these two personalities so effortlessly that he’s nearly indetectable. Meanwhile, Colin O’Brien, playing Hal’s son Petey, is a quiet firecracker—angry at his father but desperate to understand him, and he’s not afraid to challenge him on it.
But let’s be real: we’re all here for the chaos. And The Monkey DELIVERS. This movie is laugh-out-loud hilarious in the bleakest of ways. You’ll be howling as bodies are pulverized into mush, set on fire, and impaled with an ever-increasing variety of objects. The audience at our screening fully embraced the madness, turning the theater into a chorus of horrified, delighted laughter. Perkins leans into the absurdity, making every kill so cruelly inventive that you almost feel bad for cackling—almost.
Visually, The Monkey is drenched in a 70s-meets-90s aesthetic that feels wholly unique. While the story is set in the 90s, it lives in its own warped, wood-paneled universe where brown and orange reign supreme, glass-blown lamps glow ominously, and people in timeless garb explode with satisfying regularity. After Longlegs, it’s clear that Perkins is deep into his 70s-era, but tonally, the two films couldn’t be more different. If that was his Zodiac, this is his Pink Flamingos. And honestly? It might be his best film yet.
Also, a quick shoutout to Perkins’ own cameo, which is a perfect little nod to the film’s embrace of weirdness. When a director is this committed to their own brand of madness, you know you’re in for something special.
“[The Monkey] takes the darkest moments of life (and death) and dares you to laugh in the face of them, delivering an unforgettable, gloriously messed-up ride.”
Simply put, The Monkey is a near-perfect film—wild, wacky, and exactly the kind of horror we need right now. Screw it, it’s a perfect film. It takes the darkest moments of life (and death) and dares you to laugh in the face of them, delivering an unforgettable, gloriously messed-up ride.
The Monkey is in theatres February 21st. Share your Monkey thoughts with us in The Nightmare on Film Street Discord!
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