When Osgood Perkins was approached to direct The Monkey, an adaptation of Stephen King’s 1980 short story, he took one look at the serious script. He decided there was no way a movie about a wind-up toy monkey that triggers gruesome deaths could be told with a straight face. So instead of playing it straight, he leaned into the absurdity, mixing horror with comedy. The result is a movie that is always amusing but never cohesive—its clashing genres constantly feel at odds. And once you throw in the weighty subtext about death present in King’s story, fractured relationships, and a father-son conflict, what emerges is a chaotic but entertaining mess.
The film actually starts really strong. The first 30 minutes focus on the main characters as kids, which complements the toy-centric horror premise. The rules of the monkey’s curse are established well, the early deaths are effective, and there’s even some genuine emotional weight—one of the first deaths is adequately touching. There are already hints of tonal inconsistency (like an over-the-top young priest at a funeral), but the brothers’ relationship helps ground it.
Then the film jumps 25 years forward, handing the lead role to Theo James, and this is where things unravel. James delivers a wooden performance, completely lost in the film’s tonal confusion. His acting feels like a low-budget Little Shop of Horrors production—missing the comedic timing and making the emotional beats feel hollow. But he’s not the only problem.
Both the horror and humor start to wear thin. There’s only so much shock value in a string of gruesome deaths without proper buildup. Think Final Destination, but with all the suspenseful lead-up cut out, leaving only a highlight reel of deaths. Some of the kills are creative, but if you’re hoping for something beyond a gore showcase, you might be disappointed. The film is far more effective when it leans into eerie moments, like the monkey mysteriously appearing inside a car. Meanwhile, the jokes grow stale. At first, they come naturally from the characters—like Bill joking about the babysitter or their mom explaining why she avoids Hal’s room. But as the film progresses, the humor gets repetitive and forced. A character saying “that sucks” seven times isn’t a joke—it’s just irritating. When the film tries to blend horror and comedy, the results can be tasteless—like a death scene involving a swarm of insects flying into someone’s mouth.
Much like Longlegs, Perkins once again crafts a film built around a clever genre twist (Longlegs had Nicolas Cage in a Silence of the Lambs-style thriller; here, it’s a character-driven, darkly funny Final Destination movie triggered by a monkey toy). But despite his clear love for past horror influences, Perkins still struggles to make them fully work on their own. The father-son drama lacks impact, the brotherly bond feels underdeveloped and abandoned, and while the ideas are all there, they never fully click. That said, the film does have its moments—Perkins’ directorial flourishes, like the camera mirroring the monkey’s rhythmic movements, stand out. But ultimately, The Monkey is a film that’s more fun to watch in clips or a trailer than as a complete experience. There’s always something grabbing your attention, and individual scenes entertain, but as a whole, it’s nowhere near as precise or effective as its titular toy.