Over the years, I’ve read about a dozen Stephen King novels, novellas and short stories. I’ve probably seen as many, if not more, film versions of King’s work. You can’t argue with his genius or breadth. He’s known as the ‘king of horror,’ but Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption (shortened to The Shawshank Redemption for the movie) is possibly one of his best, and it’s not a genre story in the least. 
Not all King stories are home runs, but whether you love him or hate him, it’s undeniable King has become more than a writer: he’s an industry. And there’s nothing the movie business desires more than profit provable industries like Stephen King LLC (I made up the LLC part). And now, Hollywood has gotten so greedy (or desperate) they are mining everything King ever set to paper to turn that into something they believe will sell as a movie.
A picture titled ‘The Monkey’ would probably be harder to hawk if its rubric was as flavorless as that. But Stephen King’s The Monkey is an instant head turner. And to ring up sales as much as they can producers are reaching back decades –45 years in fact—to find new King material to exploit.
The Monkey was published in 1980 and revised and republished in 1985. I have not read the original, but I’m not sure that would matter. The topic under review is the film, and the cinema version concerns a toy monkey, which, when wound up, bangs a drum. Each time the rat-a-tat occurs someone dies creatively and gruesomely.
It’s not exactly clear how the monkey selects its targets, and it doesn’t need to be stated. Logic is not the currency of this movie—but schlock or camp.
The lead characters are twins who inherit the monkey from their deceased father. The monkey works its sick magic on those around them, and, to rid it from their lives, they throw it down a well. But in horror films wells never solve anyone’s problems, and the monkey comes back when the twin boys are adults. And hell comes with it.
There’s your plot, which is merely a vehicle for gore. I don’t follow this sub genre, but it seems like there are certain directors and producers who consider it a challenge to find inventive ways to dice up people.
The audience at the screening I attended seemed to appreciate the deaths. Laughter abounded each time some poor sap got churned into goo or lost a head. This may be movie theater psychology at work, the madness of crowds. If you watched this alone, would you laugh? Would you ever watch this movie again? Doubtful is the answer to both questions.
Hey, someone will tell me, it’s fun. It’s dark comedy. The Monkey is not to my taste, but I understand those who think it’s a good time on a Saturday night. But it’s not a dark comedy.
Something lurks beneath the macabre of a dark comedy, and The Monkey is as shallow as the thin canvas of the drum its demonic character whacks.
Someone wiser than I will inform me of the very plain meaning of the movie. It’s about the randomness of life, the accidental nature of why we are all here. The sound and the fury, don’t you know?
But if that is so, why do only bad things happen to good people? Why is everyone in this movie a half wit or cruel? If life is random where are the sensible and the kind people?
The Monkey might not aim to be high brow. But even for low brow it doesn’t satisfy. Things happen in the movie simply because the filmmakers want them to. If you don’t mind a little superficial manipulation, this movie might be for you. But I prefer my manipulation to be layered.
Technically, the film is strong. It knows how to use the camera to create suspense and dread, and the editing for comedic effect was the real stand out for me.
But I hazard a guess: the filmmakers are not hanging their hat on critical praise for smash bangs and set ups. I was not a fan of The Substance with Demi Moore, but at least that movie’s gore was cutting at something deeper. Obvious and tedious as it was, The Substance at least feinted in the direction of metaphor. The Monkey might not have lofty aspirations, but if I want my gorge to rise I’ll get on a roller coaster. I don’t need this movie’s pointless blood and guts to make me wince and shield my eyes.
The Monkey would have been better off as a Twilight Zone style tale. One of the better TZ episodes I remember featured a doll, Talky Tina, who, if you crossed her, would exact lethal revenge. The Monkey is an updated version of this, except at 90-minutes it needs backstory and character development. Twilight Zone episodes were 22 minutes, so evil could exist for its own sake there, but in a feature film, when you need far more filler, you better be up to the task. The Monkey falters here.
You can see some typical Stephen King tropes in the movie. The small, Maine town tearing itself apart (Needful Things, The Mist). The awkward loner employing evil on his behalf or confronting it (Christine, IT). I wonder if King’s influence was the luminary short story The Monkey’s Paw.
Speculation wouldn’t add much. In fact, it would be immaterial to the goal of the film: to use the mind and specter of Stephen King to make a little money. And if they can bust a few guts along the way –audience and movie characters alike—then they surely have gotten their wish.
Blast rating: 2 out of 4 stars
If life is random, as you suggest, the absence of sensible and kind characters can feel disheartening. A more balanced representation of humanity, including both flawed and virtuous characters, could create a richer narrative.
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