Some films immediately establish their intentions within the first ten minutes, and this is one of them. A disturbing toy monkey, a series of absurd and grotesque deaths, black humor, copious amounts of blood, and a constant sense that death could strike in the most ridiculous way possible are all present. The concept works well; I certainly enjoyed myself for quite some time. Osgood Perkins takes Stephen King’s story and steers it toward a much more playful tone than terrifying, almost as if Final Destination decided to laugh at itself. There's something freeing about that lack of seriousness: death arrives here, commits an outrageous act, and then moves on. However, a good idea doesn’t always carry a film through its entirety. The monkey, though, functions exceptionally well as a presence. It possesses an inherently unpleasant quality even when doing nothing at all. Elaborate movements or tricks aren't needed; simply seeing it there, waiting with that fixed expression is enough to create a sense of dread. Perkins understands this visual power and utilizes it effectively, just as he does with the framing, abrupt cuts, and anticipation of deaths that rarely unfold as expected. Some are so over-the-top they cease to be frightening and become purely comical. That’s where much of the humor lies: the film doesn't intend for us to grieve each casualty but rather to wonder just how far the next act of violence will go. There are moments when this combination works wonderfully, eliciting almost guilty laughter. That’s why a comparison with Final Destination seems inevitable. Not because the narratives are identical, but due to that underlying sense of fate where you know something terrible is coming and the true entertainment lies in discovering how it will happen. Some deaths are clever, others completely outlandish, and a few elicited laughter simply because of their excessiveness. This blend of gore and black comedy is undoubtedly the film’s strongest aspect. Theo James also handles his dual role well and finds a tone that's serious enough to allow such madness to unfold without devolving into complete parody. I appreciate too that Perkins doesn’t attempt to replicate the horror of Longlegs; here, he seems more interested in having fun, making a mess, and reducing death to a joke. Eventually, though, the formula begins to reveal itself. Monkey, threat, outrageous death, reaction, next victim. The setting changes, the victim changes, the method changes, but the overall feeling remains the same. That’s when I started to lose interest. What initially surprised me turned into an exercise in waiting: okay, how are they going to off the next person? It's not that the film is excessive; that very quality is part of its identity. The problem is that it becomes repetitive. When the impact relies on surprise, repeating the pattern too often diminishes the effect. Initially, I anticipated each death with curiosity; toward the end, I simply awaited its arrival to get closer to the credits. The filmmakers also attempt to weave a story about siblings, parents, children, guilt, and the inevitability of death beneath all that bloody chaos. It’s good that this exists as it prevents the film from being just a series of macabre accidents, and I understand the underlying concept: death is absurd, unavoidable, and makes no compromises. However, this emotional element never captivated me as much as the film seemed to want it to. Whenever the film returns to the monkey and the black humor, it regains vitality; when it tries to make me invested in personal conflicts, it loses momentum. It’s not due to poor acting but because the human elements lack the strength and originality of the macabre aspects. The imbalance ultimately weighs down the experience. Ultimately, I was left with a fairly clear impression: it's decent, that’s all. It has personality, striking images, the monkey is genuinely unsettling, and some deaths are as imaginative as they are ridiculous. I can easily understand why some people thoroughly enjoy this kind of gore comedy and turn it into a celebration; in fact, I myself enjoyed a significant portion of it. But eventually, it felt like watching variations on the same joke, and I ended up wanting it to be over. Perkins demonstrates an ability to film absurdity, violence, and unease, and there’s visual talent behind all that carnage. However, this time, the gag simply outstays its welcome. Funny at times, unpleasant when intended, and featuring a toy I wouldn't want to encounter in my home. Once the spectacle concluded, though, it didn't leave much of an impression.

Source on TMDB