Osgood Perkins’ The Monkey, adapted from Stephen King’s eerie short story, is a twisted cocktail of horror and dark comedy that bangs its cymbals to the beat of death. From its blood-soaked opening—Adam Scott clutching a cursed toy monkey in shock—you know you’re in for a grotesque, offbeat ride.
The story centers on twin brothers Hal and Bill Shelburne, who stumble upon the monkey as kids. It seems harmless enough—until every twist of its wind-up key results in someone dying. The killings begin with their babysitter and only escalate from there. Years later, the monkey returns, dragging the adult Hal (played with quiet dread by Theo James) back into a nightmarish cycle of doom.
The supporting cast adds punch: Elijah Wood delivers his usual eccentric charm, while Tatiana Maslany brings surprising emotional heft. The deaths are both grotesque and absurd—one involves an electrified pool, another a flaming head—and Perkins leans into the ridiculousness without ever losing the underlying menace.
Cinematographer Nico Aguilar bathes the film in greasy shadows and uneasy light, amplifying the tension and surrealism. The monkey’s clanging cymbals become an absurd yet terrifying symbol—equal parts harbinger and punchline.
What elevates The Monkey beyond simple “splatstick” horror is its undercurrent of grief and unresolved trauma. Perkins, whose mother died in the attacks, laces the story with personal sorrow. The film wrestles with the randomness of death and the scars it leaves behind—even if it occasionally struggles to balance its tones.
That tonal whiplash—veering from genuine heartbreak to darkly comic mayhem—may not land with every viewer. Some pacing stumbles aside, The Monkey remains a chaotic, compelling horror experience. It’s both a sick joke and a sobering meditation on fate, wrapped in blood and cymbals.
Image Credit By Neon - http://www.impawards.com/2025/monkey.html, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77200014
