The Monkey Review: Gory, Wild Madness Unlike Any Other Stephen King Movie

Though critics have long tried to put the work of Stephen King in a box, the reality is that there is immense diversity to be found in adaptations of his writing. The author is best known for his legendary contributions to horror fiction (and there is no selling his contributions short in that arena), but King’s books have become coming-of-age films, prestige dramas, and killer mysteries – and there’s even both an action movie (The Running Man) and a musical (Julee Ganapathi) in the canon.

In 49 years since the release of Brian De Palma’s Carrie, Stephen King adaptations have existed in wide variety of forms and genres, and I have personally seen them all. That being said, never before have we seen something like Osgood Perkins’ The Monkey: a terrific blend of pitch black sensibilities, a wickedly wry sense of humor, and epic body mutilation. It’s utterly bonkers and a wild riot.

It’s far from the most faithful take on King’s work, as details from the short story are picked and chosen to build what is a wholly original narrative, but like its source material, it’s a freaky tale chalk full of death. It trips up a bit in the third act as a result of the antagonist plot being on the thin side, but it’s otherwise so disgustingly delightful and entertaining that it’s easy to look past its shortcomings and appreciate everything it does well in its own crazy way.

The Monkey begins in the late 1990s and introduces Hal (Christian Convery) and Bill (Christian Convery), teenage identical twin brothers who live with their single mother Lois (Tatiana Maslany) and totally hate each other – with Bill being an obnoxious bully and Hal being a constant victim. While searching through their absconded father’s closet one day, they find a freaky wind-up monkey toy that comes with simple instructions: “Turn the key and see what happens.” They do, and they discover that the nightmarish trick to the thing is that whenever it activates, somebody dies a horrible death.

The cursed toy rips through Hal and Bill’s family, and while it’s contained for a time when its chained up and dumped down a well, it makes a triumphant, horrifying return a quarter century later. Now a traumatized adult, Hal (Theo James) is petrified of having anyone in his life – including his son Petey (Colin O’Brien), who he only sees one day a year. When he learns that Petey’s stepdad (Elijah Wood) is going to adopt him outright and sever ties, Hal agrees to take his kid on a road trip as a final hurrah to their relationship, but their adventure gets sidetracked when the protagonist gets word of a horrible accident and realizes that the monkey toy has somehow returned.

Osgood Perkins presents a fascinating mix of extreme horror and comedy with The Monkey.

Osgood Perkins’ filmography to this point has clearly demonstrated his affection for the macabre, but that interest is channeled in The Monkey in a way wholly different than last year’s Longlegs, and there’s a dark giddiness that’s infectious. While recognizing the deep emotional scars that death leaves, the movie is equipped with a blunt awareness that we all depart this mortal coil at some point, and the random chaos of it might as well be expressed in ridiculous Rube Goldberg-esque machinations that leave human beings looking like (to borrow parlance from the film) somebody drop-kicked a cherry pie. Bizarre circumstances repeatedly turn people into bloody piles of viscera, and it never stops being funny.

Orchestrating these unholy “accidents” is a deft hand. Perkins delights in showing the audience all of the puzzle pieces of horror and letting you mentally try to click them into place – and whether you get exactly what you expect or a curveball is thrown into the mix, you feel perfectly satisfied with its cleverness. It’s ridiculous enough to be funny, but grounded enough to feel twisted, and it’s a rare but delectable flavor.

The Monkey has wisdom about death to share amid all of the gory madness.

Principally, The Monkey is designed as an outrageous horror comedy, but it also slings a bit of depth in for good measure. Though the Bill side of the plot ultimately feels undercooked (fully explaining why would unfortunately breach into spoiler territory), the movie successfully wields commentary about the impact of childhood trauma with the diverting paths of its main characters: Hal has a life committed to running from the past, and his estranged twin is obsessed with running back to it. The story is about the former failing and the latter succeeding, creating a framework for growth and madness.

Pulling off such a dual role isn’t simple, but both Christian Convery and Theo James demonstrated awesome range in showcasing two extremely different personalities, and there is successful synchronicity in performances as Hal and Bill grow from teens to adults. The “twins” are the stars, but one of the many charms of the film is its casting: small characters quickly come in and out of the story but showcase eccentricities that make them effortlessly memorable – from Elijah Wood’s Ted, who is willing to gamble parenthood of Petey with an arm wrestling match, to Nicco Del Rio as a stoner pastor who, to put it gently, definitely doesn’t have the emotional bandwidth to address a church full of mourners during a funeral.

Various pieces of The Monkey feel reminiscent of everything from Final Destination to The Addams Family to Child’s Play, but when combined, it very much becomes its own thing, and audiences tuned into its disturbing/gross frequency are going to have a ball. Between it and Drew Hancock’s fantastic, twist-filled Companion, horror fans already have a great deal to celebrate in 2025, and we can only hope that all of the other Stephen King adaptations coming out this year match its awesome quality.