Monkey Man (2024)

Those less familiar with the source material for David Lowery’s The Green Knight might’ve been surprised by that decidedly nonviolent fantasy flick. And you wouldn’t be alone. Maybe the role even left its lead, Dev Patel, somewhat hungry for a more straightforward revenge tale. All he would need to do is write, direct and produce it himself.

Enter Monkey Man, Patel’s directorial debut that offers a frenetic and brutal film that stabs, slices and punches past a mob of John Wick imitators. (Yes, even you, The Beekeeper.)

That’s not to say Monkey Man is devoid of meaning, either. No, it doesn’t uproot the genre in the same way as Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy or Michael Sarnoski’s Pig. It does, however, give us a thriller as drenched in Indian culture, politics and mythology as it is by blood and dismembered limbs.

Set in the fictional city of Yatana, Kid (Patel) lives in poverty. He makes a “living” donning a monkey mask and intentionally losing boxing (but also kind of pro wrestling) matches. Kid saves what little money he can with the plans of killing a twisted police chief, Rana (Sikandar Kher), and an equally corrupt religious leader, Baba (Makarand Deshpande). Years prior, Rana murdered Kid’s mother and burned down his hometown under Baba’s direction to expand the figure’s holy empire. By killing these two and every goon at their disposal, Kid seeks to tear out of the heart of Yatana’s criminal underground.

Granted, it can sometimes be difficult to discern some of Monkey Man’s basic plot detail, given its constantly moving and whiplash-inducing cinematography. The technique works exceedingly well where it matters most (e.g., fight scenes and urban B-roll), but distracts from key dialogue. Granted, Monkey Man is a film filled with necessary compromises to work around stolen camera shots and, of course, Patel’s broken hand.

These setbacks could account for much of Monkey Man’s shortcomings, and more often than not, they don’t interrupt the action at hand. What truly hurts the film are formulaic character motivations and grossly repetitive framing. (Take a shot every time the camera follows a character to the ground like an ax splitting wood and you’d black out before the film’s second act.)

Again, it’s hard to hold these issues too much against the film knowing how much of a beast it was to make. Still, one could easily wonder how much more memorable Monkey Man could be if it exercised even slightly more restraint, especially when it comes to the few dialogue-driven scenes.

Granted, most of us didn’t show up for the talking. The film thrives with its low-to-the ground, drag-out fights. A attempted assassination in a bathroom quickly followed by a confrontation with an ax-wielding brothel owner are among Monkey Man’s most riveting sequences. Similarly, the movie’s final two fight scenes offer an equally gory as it is satisfying conclusion, even though the cinematography loses a bit of its luster by that point.

Other than a notch in what we’ll hopefully cascade into a storied career for Patel, Monkey Man doesn’t pack a lot of a staying power. At the very least, however, it’s far from a boring or uninspired revenge thriller. Perhaps a sequel could suture some of the film’s more apparent gashes and give its protagonist a bit more depth. (Hopefully Patel’s hand will have fully healed by then, too.) —Daniel Bokemper

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Brad Sykes’ Top 5 Neon Nightmares Not Released Past VHS … Yet!

When one thinks of thrillers set in Los Angeles during the 1980s, the first titles that come to mind are neo-noirs like To Live and Die in L.A. and Body Double; action flicks like Lethal Weapon and Die Hard; and sci-fi outings such as The Terminator and Night of the Comet. However, there were hundreds more L.A. thrillers produced and released during the era, ranging from the broadly comedic to genuinely disturbing, and I reviewed them all in my recent BearManor Media book, Neon Nightmares: L.A. Thrillers of the 1980s. (Editor’s note: Flick Attack-approved!

I grew up watching these films, and I was amazed to discover how many of them still have not been released past VHS and laserdisc in the U.S., 40 years after they first came out. Even in this era of streaming and boutique Blu-rays, plenty of deserving L.A. thrillers remain stuck in analog limbo. Here are five of my favorites:

1. Out of Bounds (1986)
Basically a 24-hour extended chase all over Los Angeles, this fast-paced thriller finds farmboy Anthony Michael Hall pursued all over L.A. by drug dealers and crooked cops after he grabs the wrong duffle bag at LAX.  An excellent soundtrack featuring The Smiths, The Cult and Siouxsie and the Banshees (the latter of whom appear onscreen) is often cited as the main reason this film remains unreleased on DVD or Blu-ray. The always welcome Jenny Wright makes a quirky love interest and Jeff Kober is scary good as the main baddie.   

2. Club Life (1986) 
Norman Thaddeus Vane, the man behind L.A. thrillers like The Black Room and Frightmare, brought us this cautionary tale, which follows starstruck newbie Tom Parsekian as he navigates the rough-and-tumble world of a glitzy nightclub. Tony Curtis is a hoot as the club’s owner, Michael Parks brings world-weary brilliance to his senior bouncer, and Dee Wallace Stone registers strongly as an over-the-hill singer. Club Life is a smoky time capsule with a genuine feel for the lower depths of showbiz. 

3. Kidnapped (1987)
Like Vane, director Howard Avedis cut his teeth on a series of L.A. thrillers, including The Teacher and They’re Playing with Fire, before directing this sleazy outing. Genre favorites David Naughton and Barbara Crampton team up to find Crampton’s little sister, who has fallen into a sleazy underworld of pimps and porn. It might not have the punch of Hardcore or Angel, but Kidnapped is nasty enough when it needs to be, with the added bonuses of a chimpanzee sidekick, Jimmie “J.J.” Walker and Savage Streets’ Robert Dryer playing (what else?) a vicious thug. 

4. Red Nights (1988)
Like Club Life, Red Nights is another cautionary tale of life in the big city, but told with a coldly realistic tone that allows it to stand apart from other Hollywood Boulevard sob stories. An aspiring actor moves to L.A. to play cowboys in the movies and ends up trading shots with real-life scumbags; the film’s downward spiral narrative is a nice change of pace from the usual shoot-’em-up cliches. The only recognizable credits are veteran character actor William Smith and legendary synth band Tangerine Dream, but don’t let that deter you from tracking down this gritty gem.

5. Satan’s Princess (1989)
From Walking the Edge to The Banker, Robert Forster starred in a number of L.A. thrillers during the ’80s, but none as trashily entertaining as Satan’s Princess. While investigating a missing persons case, world-weary cop Forster meets up with the titular temptress (French erotic thriller queen Lydie Denier) and all hell breaks loose.  Directed by B-movie specialist Bert I. Gordon (Empire of the Ants, The Mad Bomber), this is a late-night cable fave brimming with skin, gore and plenty of WTF moments.

And if you’re looking for more “stuck in VHS” recommendations, check out City in Fear (1980), Slow Burn (1986), Fresh Kill (1987) and Lady Avenger (1988), to name a few. You can find all of these and much, much more in Neon Nightmares: L.A. Thrillers of the 1980s. —Brad Sykes

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Boy Kills World (2023)

Somewhere between The Purge and The Hunger Games stands The Culling. For decades, the annual, cereal-sponsored event allows the ruler of a totalitarian regime to round up and execute enemies on live TV. Years ago, a boy named Boy witnessed the murder of his family that way. Deaf, mute and now totally ripped, the grown-up Boy (Bill Skarsgård, Barbarian) undertakes a mission of revenge on that politician (Famke Janssen, X-Men) and her own brood.

German director and co-writer Moritz Mohr has built Boy Kills World, his debut feature, similarly to how posh parents whip up a baby by selecting preferred genes. His film is inspired by video games, dystopian sci-fi, kung-fu movies, graphic novels, splatter à la Sam Raimi (who incidentally produces) and more video games. Instead of blonde hair and blue eyes, Mohr seems to have chosen the elements calculated to get his firstborn branded with the “instant cult classic” label. The problem is, awful title notwithstanding, that winning formula can’t be brewed in a lab.

Its fight sequences run so long and are so CGI-dependent, the effect is like watching a marathon session of your roommate play an FPS. At least some of the skirmishes are scored by the propulsive party sounds of El Michels Affair, which recall The Go! Team at its jump-ropin’ peak.

Although slick in the right spots and boasting fun (in small doses) comic turns from Michelle Dockery (Non-Stop) and Sharlto Copley (Monkey Man) as members of the political dynasty, the film tries hard to please — so hard that it ultimately proves to be too much of a good thing. In fact, it’s too much of too much, right down to use of the Wilhelm scream. —Rod Lott

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Alison’s Birthday (1981)

A somewhat forgotten folk horror film from Australia, Alison’s Birthday begins with the titular character (Joanne Samuel) playing with a makeshift Ouija board with her friends at age 16. One of the girls, Chrissie (Margie McCrae), becomes possessed by a spirt claiming to be Alison’s father, who warns his daughter not to go home on her 19th birthday, insinuating that something horrible will happen. Moments later, a strong gust of wind invades the room and tips over a bookcase, crushing poor Chrissie to death. It’s as exciting and audacious opening to a film as you’re likely to find.

Things slow down a bit as we jump ahead about three years. Alison’s 19th birthday is a few days away, and she’s been summoned to the home of her Aunt Jennifer and Uncle Dean (Bunney Brooke and John Bluthal, respectively). Seems old Dean’s health is failing, and all he wants is one last family birthday celebration with Alison, who hasn’t been back to her childhood abode in quite some time. Despite her reservations (remember that deathly warning she got at 16?), Alison agrees, and convinces her boyfriend, Pete (Lou Brown), to accompany her.

From the outset, it’s pretty clear everything isn’t kosher with Alison’s surrogate parents. For one thing, a mysterious structure in their back garden resembles a miniature Stonehenge. For another, occupying the room across the hall is a spooky old woman who wears a strange amulet around her neck and likes to watch the teenager sleep. She’s explained away as Alison’s great-grandmother, but Alison remembers no mention of the woman all throughout her upbringing.

If you’ve seen a lot of horror movies, you probably have a decent idea where this plot is going, and by and large, it does, though it does so through the POV of Pete, who becomes a final boy of sorts as he investigates the creepy goings-on while Alison gets sidelined to her bed, having been drugged and hypnotized by the now obviously villainous Jennifer and Dean and their physician cohort (Vincent Ball).

Without giving too much away, the ending to Alison’s Birthday is just as audacious as its beginning, and well worth the wait. The film overall is a solid watch, an engaging, if somewhat flawed, entry into the folk horror canon that remains criminally underseen and underappreciated. —Christopher Shultz

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Monolith (2022)

A disgraced journalist (Lily Sullivan, Evil Dead Rise) attempts to rebuild her career — if not her credibility — by starting Beyond Believable, an investigative podcast on unexplained events. One night, the subject for a potential first episode falls in her lap via an anonymous email. Bearing the subject line “The Truth Will Out,” it contains only a name, a phone number and a cryptic reference to a brick.

As the saying goes, curiosity killed the podcaster, so she takes the bait. A couple of calls later, she’s nose-deep in the mystery — or conspiracy? —regarding these black bricks of unknown origin and composition, and containing odd symbols inside.

One unsolicited tip is all it takes to lead her down a rabbit hole. For a good while, the same holds true for Monolith viewers as well, thanks to Sullivan’s engaging performance — all but required when you’re the lone actor onscreen. Unlike the recent, similarly themed First Time Caller, the Australian Monolith benefits from its always-on lead character not being abhorrent.

As first-time filmmakers, directory Matt Vesely and Lucy Campbell take a lot of correct steps upfront. Ultimately, their conclusion’s dogged ambiguity could work against the film’s potential life span. Sci-fi viewers don’t demand complete, lock-and-key explanations — witness The X-Files — but for Monolith to pivot so hard to the abstract after an hour of Sullivan’s methodical info-gathering feels indolent. Nevertheless, I look forward to whatever they direct their energy toward next. After all, the truth will out. —Rod Lott

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