Up to this point, you are going to need some resilience if you watch this one. It's billed as a horror comedy and the best I can say about that is that you can see it trying. the cast is variously deadpan and over animated in the way that the most excruciating satires are. The screen is splattered with visual jokes that show their working and come to what ought to be explosive payoffs but just feel like polished examples of jokes. It's an Ikea approach of parts fulfilment rather than organic force.
Theo James plays the twins and for most of the film we ride with the good twin and he plays it like old vanilla. The bad twin gets all the lines and art direction to make him compelling but we don't get him until the third act by which time the mechanics of the story take over and things move instead of hang around looking blackly arch. And then it ends.
A friend of mine has a nervous habit. They will rupture a conversation they are having with a correction or contradiction. If that gets through they will keep doing it until that's what the conversation becomes, each time rounding things of with a loud and mirthless laugh. Generally, I can look around this and remember the film of friendship around us but when it gets that oppressive and anti-communicative that it turns into a creepy automatic form of abuse, I need to either let it through until I can escape or start pushing back. When that's a movie that doesn't admit of interaction, the sense of exhaustion kicks in early and remains even through the more appealing passages.
I had tried to get into a cinema to see this but missed the first week when my preferred morning screenings were available. I almost made it to one yesterday but it was pulled by the venue. So I found it for rent online. By that time I had forgotten why I was so interested in seeing it. Looked kind of goofy in trailers, about the same kind of level as Heart Eyes. It wasn't until I watched the credits did I understand my enthusiasm. The Monkey was directed by Osgood Perkins.
Osgood Perkins has made a name for himself with strong, off-centre fare like The Blackcoat's Daughter and Longlegs, stories with horror dressing around impressively solemn and tragic cores. He's just getting better at them. This time he tried a comedy and, like most that try to blend funny and scary he failed and it feels like he assumed that a confident intellectual grasp of what makes a joke work is not enough to actually make it work.
See, this is not just me being tin-eared with comedy. My sense of humour ranges from the elaborate wit of Shakespeare to farting preacher videos on YouTube (try it, they never get old). I also own that just because I don't laugh doesn't mean others won't. The repellent Wes Anderson has legions of fans who think he is a genius. They aren't necessarily wrong but they can have him. But when I see anyone approach a creative project as mathematically as this my resistance bristles and stands firm to repel boarders. That said, I am always ready to be wrong with a first impression. Then, when that impression is only mildly challenged by what I see before collapsing back to what made it in the first place, I admit defeat. This unlovely film wasted me and not in a good way. Please Oz, let's get back to creepy, next time.
Viewing notes: I watched this as a rental stream through Prime. It was a lot cheaper than if I had gone to a cinema for it. All the usual online rentals will offer it for the time being.
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