Monkey (2025) - another Stephen King story-turned-into-movie

When Stephen King christened his malevolent wind-up monkey back in 1980, he probably didn't envision Theo James wrestling with the cursed thing decades later. But here we are with director Osgood Perkins (fresh off his Longlegs success) bringing this particular nightmare to life. It's about time someone tackled King's shorter works without completely butchering them.

 

The Monkey follows twin brothers Hal and Bill, both played by James in what amounts to a one-man show of familial dysfunction. The premise is deliciously simple, a toy monkey bangs its cymbals and people die in increasingly creative ways. It's King at his most straightforward, which is probably why Perkins manages to keep the adaptation relatively faithful without drowning it in unnecessary subplots.

 

James does solid work carrying the dual role, though the film occasionally stumbles when it can't decide if it wants to be darkly comic or genuinely terrifying. The horror beats land well enough, but the comedy feels forced at times, like watching someone try too hard to make you laugh at a funeral. Perkins has a good eye for atmosphere, but he's still finding his voice as a director - you can see flashes of brilliance buried under what feels like studio-mandated crowd-pleasing moments. The real star here is the monkey itself, a genuinely unsettling piece of practical effects work that puts most CGI creatures to shame. There's something deeply wrong about watching this thing move, and Perkins knows exactly how to frame it for maximum discomfort. King adaptations are tricky beasts, too faithful and they feel stagey, too loose and they lose what made the source material work. The Monkey finds a decent middle ground, even if it doesn't quite reach the heights of King's best screen translations. It's competent horror film making that respects its source without being enslaved by it. A decent and quick onetime watch.