Osgood Perkins' The Monkey adapts Stephen King's 1980 short story into an absurd and gloriously over-the-top horror film that delights in its carnage while keeping things light and playful. As a devoted fan of Stephen King adaptations—good or bad—there's almost always something compelling in each of them, whether it's a fascinating concept, an eerie atmosphere, or an unforgettable performance. The Monkey leans into the gleeful side of King's horror, delivering a wild, bloody spectacle that isn't particularly concerned with deeper themes but fully embraces its absurdity.

Coming fresh off the breakout success of Longlegs, which debuted last summer and benefited from a viral marketing campaign, The Monkey arrives with heightened anticipation. While the run-up to this release hasn't had quite the same cachet, Perkins' rising profile has certainly drawn more eyes to his latest effort. Longlegs proved that Perkins could handle mainstream horror while maintaining his signature eerie, offbeat style. While The Monkey is a departure in tone, it showcases a similar confidence in execution.

When it comes to creative kills and sheer body count, The Monkey shines. This film racks up an impressive number of deaths, a welcome feature that sets it apart from more restrained horror efforts. The way these deaths unfold feels reminiscent of the Final Destination series. While not every kill has the intricate, slow-building anticipation of those films' Rube Goldberg-style death traps, a few certainly do. Even when they don't, they all carry that same sense of "coincidental inevitability" that makes for a wildly entertaining horror experience. The audience at my screening laughed uproariously throughout, with the biggest reactions coming at the most exaggerated, ridiculous deaths. The Monkey isn't just a horror movie—it's a slapstick gore-fest, and it knows exactly what kind of film it wants to be.

The story follows twin brothers Hal and Bill Shelburn, played in adulthood by Theo James and in childhood by Christian Convery, who stumble upon their father's old monkey in the attic. This isn't just any monkey—it's cursed. Every time the monkey beats his drum, someone nearby dies in a gruesome, often ridiculous fashion. As kids, they try to dispose of it and move on with their lives, but when the deaths start up again 25 years later, they're forced to confront the supernatural force head-on.

Bill, born three minutes earlier, was always a bully to Hal, playing pranks and asserting his dominance over his younger twin. This dynamic ultimately led to their estrangement, as Hal grew weary of being the butt of Bill's jokes and the victim of his mean-spirited antics. The film briefly touches on how siblings—even twins—can have vastly different experiences growing up, but it never lingers too long on these ideas, instead keeping its focus on delivering maximum carnage.

If you squint, there's a light thematic dusting around shared familial trauma and how even twins can have vastly different experiences growing up. Hal and Bill's divergent paths hint at how trauma manifests in unique ways, but that's me really trying to extract meaning from a film that isn't particularly interested in having any. This is not a deeply introspective horror film—it's a full-throttle, unserious bloodbath that revels in its own absurdity. Osgood Perkins, typically known for his moody and atmospheric horror films like The Blackcoat's Daughter and Gretel & Hansel, takes a sharp detour here into dark comedy.

One of the film's biggest strengths is Theo James' performance. Playing twin brothers is a tricky balancing act, but James handles the dual roles with impressive range. He differentiates Hal and Bill, making each feel distinct while maintaining a believable sibling dynamic. Christian Convery also does a solid job portraying the younger versions of the brothers.

The supporting cast, including Tatiana Maslany as their mother, Elijah Wood as Ted Hammerman, and Adam Scott as their absent father, appear in brief roles, essentially cameos, but add to the film's overall appeal. Their appearances reinforce the film's absurdist tone—Maslany repeatedly instills in her sons the notion that everyone dies, Wood plays a delightfully pompous a-hole, and Scott sets the tone perfectly with his fiery opening sequence.

Lastly, it's impressive just how creepy the monkey is with its lifeless gaze and toothy grin. Though it never actually commits any carnage itself—only signaling that death is imminent—it still manages to exude an eerie presence all on its own.

For fans of Stephen King adaptations, The Monkey offers a wildly entertaining experience, even if it's not one of the more nuanced or haunting entries in the King horror canon. It's pure, unfiltered carnage with a knowing wink, embracing its silliness without apology. Some horror fans might wish for more substance, but if you're in the mood for an outrageous, laugh-out-loud splatterfest, this one delivers in spades. Perkins has crafted a horror film that feels just as much like a rollercoaster ride—thrilling, unpredictable, and relentlessly fun. In the end, that's more than enough to make The Monkey worth watching.

— 3.5 / 5 ⭐