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Fresh off of Longlegs1‘ (2024) unpredictable yet riveting triumph, psychological horror director Osgood Perkins has outdone himself with his killer adaptation of horror legend Stephen King‘s homonymous short story, The Monkey2 (2025). Unsurprisingly, this banger was also produced by fellow horror veteran James Wan — known for directing and producing The Conjuring3 (2013) and some installments of the Insidious4 saga (2010-2023).
Brought to life by an absolute dream (or should I say nightmare) team, this film is one of the most philosophical, yet absurd, terrifying but hilarious horror films to be released within the existential horror realm. Osgood Perkins transforms Stephen King’s story into an artful exploration of fate and fatalism, using horror not to explain death — but to expose its chilling indifference.
The Monkey follows estranged twins Hal and Bill (both played by British heartthrob Theo James) as their lives are turned upside down by a mysterious object left behind by their deadbeat dad: a toy monkey.
As the nerdy pushover, Hal, reaches a boiling point due to being bullied by both his classmates and his brother, he also comes to a daunting and seemingly implausible realization: the toy monkey has the power to kill when its key is turned. The catch? The kills are completely random.
Attempting to kill his abusive brother, Hal accidentally causes their mother’s death. When Bill discovers the monkey’s powers, he blames Hal for her demise. The obsession and demons that come with the haunted object follow them both into adulthood, as the monkey — which Hal thought he was finally free from — comes back and begins a new killing spree.
Clang, Clang: The Terrifying Simplicity Of The Monkey’s Horror
As mentioned, The Monkey is technically a horror film — I mean, the sole presence of the toy and the eerie clanging of its sticks is enough to make anyone’s skin crawl. Besides the visual horror of the haunted element trope, though, the real horror lies in the randomness of the deaths — but so does the comedy. Every death is gorier, darker, and more absurd than the previous one, making the audience squirm, gasp, and inevitably laugh because however shocking and tragic these kills might be, they are undeniably ironic.
However, this simple horror device is deeper than it appears. It isn’t only used to create a physical embodiment for the impending, unpredictable end that awaits us all, but it is also a cleverly crafted symbol of existential dread and doom. it is scary; it is random; it is unfair. Much like death itself. And life, too.
The monkey is a mere medium for a bigger entity, force, or whatever is truly causing all the chaos and death in the universe, much like every person it kills is just another meaningless casualty of an even more meaningless game called life.
Absurdity & Fate — The Unstoppable March Toward Death
Deeply rooted and equally important is The Monkey‘s exploration of fate. Whether our fate is written, chosen, or just as random as the monkey’s kills. Hal, years after his initial encounter with the monkey, still believes he is haunted. He pushes every potential connection in his life away, believing he is doomed to live a solitary life because the toy might come back for him.
Hal also goes as far as detaching himself from his only son to “protect” him from inheriting the family’s grisly curse. Bill, on the other hand, spends years plotting his revenge against Hal and, after unleashing the monkey’s wrath on so many innocents trying to kill his brother, ends up falling victim to it himself (with Hal and his son escaping unscathed).
In another brief but standout scene from Hal’s childhood, the twins and their mother sit at a cemetery (mourning their babysitter’s death at the hands of the monkey) as she delivers a hilarious and brutally honest speech on death. This absurdly enlightening moment pretty much sums up what all the gore and randomness in the film shed a terrifying light on: everybody dies.
We don’t know when, or how, or why; we just do. And as easily as a health and fitness fanatic could live up to be 100, they could get hit by a drunk driver who doesn’t give a damn about their Pilates routine. And that is what’s so scary, so absurd, but so beautiful and freeing about life, death, and The Monkey.
A Stephen King Adaptation That Gets It Right
King and Perkins are simply a match made in heaven (or hell, depending on who you ask). With such brief yet meaningful source material, Perkins takes a familiar concept and elevates it into a dark, layered, and comedic psychological drama which (although it easily could’ve) doesn’t rely on “easy” genre techniques like simple jump scares.
Yes, he exploits the hell out of each kill in the goriest way possible, but as disgusting as it is, it doesn’t feel gratuitous or for mere shock value. It simply shows that Perkins acknowledges and embraces the absurd duality of the story, further proving that he absolutely understood and killed the assignment — just like he killed everyone in this film.
Another key aspect of the film beautifully captured on screen — stepping away from the gore for a minute — is the awkwardness of Hal and Bill’s growing pains. This is a common and standout element in King’s stories, which audiences often overlook because of the work’s genre, but that is just as meaningful and vital to the narrative as its horror elements.
Take It5 (2017; Andy Muschietti), for instance, (arguably the best modern King adaptation), which follows a group of pre-teens united by an evil force that haunts every one of them, preying on their fears and the vulnerability of their age. Or Carrie6 (1976; Brian de Palma), depicting a teenage girl ostracized for her mother’s extreme religious beliefs, whose only wish is to be normal.
These adaptations thrive because they don’t shy away from the coming-of-age elements so beautifully portrayed in their source material, and instead of keeping it bottled up in the background, they milk every last drop of it.
This multi-faceted approach not only enhances the characters’ depth and humanity but is also used to show how their childhood fears and trauma often linger inside their psyche and make their way into their adult life. In The Monkey’s case, this trauma not only continues to haunt Hal and Bill, but it also shapes and eventually seals their fate as just another of the monkey’s unfortunate casualties.
The Monkey’s Cymbals Will Echo For Years
What sets The Monkey apart from traditional horror is its seamless blend of existential dread with bleak, almost slapstick humor. Perkins refuses to give audiences the comfort of logic or reason, instead crafting a narrative where death operates like an impersonal, cosmic joke.
The randomness of each kill mirrors the uncertainty of real life, where no amount of preparation, caution, or good intentions can truly shield us from fate. it is this inescapable reality that makes the film resonate long after the credits roll. The monkey itself becomes more than a supernatural force — it is a metaphor for the chaotic, senseless nature of existence.
Osgood Perkins’ The Monkey is far more than just another Stephen King adaptation — it is a masterfully unsettling, darkly comedic meditation on fate, randomness, and the absurdity of life itself. With its unrelenting sense of doom and eerily playful execution, the film forces audiences to confront their deepest fears, not just of death, but of its unpredictability.
Each clang of the toy monkey’s cymbals isn’t just a harbinger of another grotesque demise — it is a chilling reminder of life’s cruel indifference, where tragedy and absurdity walk hand in hand. The film’s success also lies in its deeply human core. While the gruesome kills and supernatural terror keep audiences on edge, The Monkey ultimately thrives because of its compelling character work.
Hal and Bill’s fractured brotherhood, their unresolved trauma, and the generational weight of their curse add layers of emotional depth that elevate the horror beyond cheap thrills. Perkins, like King, understands that true horror isn’t just about the monster — it is about how we live knowing the monster is always there, waiting.
Much like It and Carrie, The Monkey excels by embracing King’s signature coming-of-age and psychological elements rather than reducing them to background noise. The awkwardness of adolescence, the sting of childhood betrayal, and the wounds of the past all collide to shape the film’s characters and, ultimately, their doom. This attention to emotional depth, combined with its gut-wrenching horror and sharp existential wit, cements The Monkey as one of the most original and thought-provoking horror films in recent years.
Perkins has taken King’s eerie short story and spun it into something truly unforgettable. The Monkey isn’t just scary — it is an existential gut-punch wrapped in blood and laughter. And as its final cymbals crash, audiences won’t just be left haunted by the terror on screen but by the chilling realization that, in the end, we’re all just waiting for the monkey’s next turn.
Footnotes
- Longlegs. Directed by Osgood Perkins. United States: Neon, 2024. ↩︎
- The Monkey. Directed by Osgood Perkins. United States: Neon, 2025. ↩︎
- The Conjuring. Directed by James Wan. United States: Warner Bros., 2013. ↩︎
- Insidious. Directed by James Wan. United States: Stage 6 Films, 2010. ↩︎
- It. Directed by Andy Muschietti. United States: Warner Bros. Pictures, 2017. ↩︎
- Carrie. Directed by Brian De Palma. United States: Red Bank Films, 1976. ↩︎
Excelente análisis!