MOVIE REVIEW – A childhood toy unleashes a bloody rampage in Osgood Perkins’ uneven follow-up to “Longlegs.” After his unsettling deep dive into pure evil in “Longlegs,” writer-director Osgood Perkins shifts gears with his latest horror outing, crafting an offbeat black comedy where the sheer excess of gore is designed to shock and amuse in equal measure. Based on Stephen King’s short story.

The Monkey tells the story of two estranged twin brothers whose childhood was forever altered by an accursed wind-up monkey with an eerie ability: each time it’s wound up, someone dies under bizarre and inexplicable circumstances. Theo James delivers an engrossing dual performance as the now-adult siblings who must confront this supernatural nightmare once more. Perkins approaches this adaptation with both confidence and audacity, painting a darkly pessimistic portrait of family and fate. Yet, for all its unpredictability and nerve, the film leans more into sardonic humor than genuine tension.

Perkins excels at horror—but struggles with dark comedy

The Monkey hit theaters on February 21 in both the UK and the US, boasting two major draws: Perkins is coming off the unexpected box-office success of his 2024 indie horror Longlegs, which grossed $127 million worldwide, and Stephen King’s name remains a surefire magnet for audiences. A savvy marketing campaign that highlights the film’s extreme violence is sure to appeal to hardcore horror fans—especially those who enjoy a side of twisted humor with their bloodshed.

Set in 1999, the film follows soft-spoken Hal (Christian Convery), who has always loathed his bullying twin brother Bill (also played by Convery), despite their shared love for their single mother Lois (Tatiana Maslany), who was abandoned by their father long ago. Among the remnants of their father’s belongings, they discover an old wind-up monkey, seemingly harmless at first—until they realize that each time it beats its tiny drum, a freak accident takes someone’s life. Their attempts to destroy it prove futile—the toy inexplicably reappears, completely unscathed—so the brothers decide to lock it away in an old well, hoping to bury its curse forever. But as expected, their efforts are in vain.

Perkins takes considerable liberties with King’s 1980 short story—most notably replacing a single protagonist with twin brothers—and injects a streak of darkly cynical humor. Death lurks in nearly every scene, but unlike the somber dread of his previous films, here it’s played for grotesque, slapstick horror. Victims meet their fate in outlandishly gruesome ways, with the director reveling in the sight of pulverized bodies, decapitated heads, and disgustingly detailed wounds, daring the audience to wince and chuckle at the same time.

“The Monkey” Returns—and Brings Chaos With It

Fast-forwarding to the present day, an adult Hal (Theo James) has chosen isolation, fearing that the cursed toy could one day resurface and bring fresh misery. Estranged from Bill, who remains as insufferable as ever, Hal’s worst nightmare becomes reality, forcing him to reunite with his brother in a desperate bid to destroy the malevolent relic. James delivers a sharp, deadpan performance in both roles, amplifying the film’s self-aware absurdity. The Monkey never explains exactly how the toy selects its victims, and the mechanics of its curse gradually unfold through the twins’ attempts to piece together its twisted logic. The sheer unpredictability of each bizarre death—combined with the film’s playfully macabre tone—ensures that the horror is always laced with dark comedy.

Visually, Perkins, aided by cinematographer Nico Aguilar, crafts a steady stream of eerie imagery, ensuring that even the most mundane moments carry an undercurrent of unease. No matter how often the monkey appears, its presence never loses its chilling effect—especially given its uncanny ability to materialize at the worst possible moments. Yet, while the film’s grotesque humor keeps the momentum going, Perkins’ knack for comedy isn’t as strong as his command of horror. Side characters lean too heavily into caricature—Elijah Wood is completely underused as Hal’s ex-wife’s smug new partner—and after a while, the monkey’s elaborate executions begin to lose their impact.

Something Gets Lost Along the Way

The film’s biggest shortcoming is its lack of emotional depth. The Monkey flirts with the idea of grief driving people to extremes, but this theme is overshadowed by Perkins’ overreliance on snarky gags and ironic one-liners. What made Longlegs so haunting was its suffocating, nightmarish exploration of a serial killer who felt almost otherworldly in his malevolence. Perkins previously aimed to chill audiences to their core—here, he pivots toward something more playful, but the result is a film that’s more entertaining than truly terrifying.

-Gergely Herpai “BadSector”-