Kid, an anonymous young man who ekes out a meager living in an underground fight club where, night after night, wearing a gorilla mask, he is beaten bloody by more popular fighters for cash. After...
Remember when I said that sometimes ambition and passion can be contagious? Well, for every action film with even a silver of juice in its veins and energy to burn, we get one so passionate in its craft, ambitious with the chaos it provides and so overstuffed with messy, tasty quality, that you just can’t help but cheer it along despite all its shortcomings.
“Monkey Man” is one of those movies.
I know this sounds cliche to say but man oh man, did Dev Patel LITERALLY pour everything, his entire self into directing this. How each scene maneuvers from one set-piece to the next manifests this unruly, agitated undertone of annoyance; actively showcasing his love for the action genre through beauty through pain. And from the way he captures that understanding of pulsing and kinetic to quietly moving impulse with pride, this does not feel like his first time.
World-building does just enough to vaguely incorporate the backdrop of Mumbai as a character in its own right, meaning a healthy enough blend of modern Western and Indian aesthetics in the production design, even if the Westernized style can often win out much to my annoyance. There’s something generally beautiful about cultural juxtaposition when different cultures can come together and the fact that it continues to remain spiritually and visually experimental the longer the film goes on captures the spirit of each its locales. No amount of harsh overhead lighting can shake the shadowy atmosphere of the venues or the interspersed whisper-laden rawness of its own presentation and its stylized approach with keeping the camera loose and fluid to match the razor-sharp intensity of the extended action sequences does wonders for both the editing and Sharone Mier’s cinematography…..despite the dreaded shaky-cam reappearing and mucking up the otherwise solid fight choreography. Gleefully anarchic it is, as the harshness of it reflects the chaos and unpredictability of the world shown to us.
There’s a restlessness to the manner of pacing the story moves at and not in a bad way; it matches the physical or mental exhaustion of both the hero’s plight and the more-than-acceptable runtime, clocking in at 2 hours. Costumes are deftly designed and appropriate, it’s reputable standing of a R-rating is both satisfying and brutish to boot, you got robust sound design up the wahzoo and an eclectically poppy OST. Shame the music overtakes some of the dialogue though, as the vast majority I was able to hear was…..middling.
Dev Patel proves himself a versatile and visceral force to be reckoned with as our titular lead, even if everyone else barely matches that same effort and dedication.
It’s story is more of a prolonged slumdog underdog fable undercut by an excessively brutal display of Mumbai mayhem and driven by a baked-in action-movie assurance of punch-bad-guy-until-he-fall-down; just a simple entertaining, bare-knuckled revenge flick…..except it’s not that cut and dry (or at least it doesn’t want to be). Patel’s genre potbolier wheel of fortune is a purposeful homage to John Wick and nods to plenty of Indian, Indonesian, and Hong Kong action films but also an attempted character-driven drama which it barely succeeds at being both. Whenever there’s a dutiful set-up, the story gives it a necessary payoff and it has deft understanding of the cause and effect of delicate hidden exposition despite being a retread of other revenge stories; you can tell how hard it tries to overcome how broad and narrow the screenplay makes itself out to be. It knows it’s not reinventing the formula and isn’t trying to but it just can’t help itself from bearing its newfangled teeth.
None of the foray of characters are vastly memorable in the grander sense but at least Kid and each of the film’s other major players do feel like larger aspects of modern-day Indian society crystalized into characters whose actions are somehow far simpler than the ideas they represent for said story.
In ancient literature, the Hindu monkey god Hanuman is revered as an exemplar of faith, self-control, and commitment to a good cause; he was punished by the god Indra for eating the sun after mistaking it for a succulent mango, and that plot point can thematically be linked as a narrative parallel to our titular character, likening clubs and towering compounds as juicy fruits to bite into and tear apart before being punished for his insolence and having to build his way back up to regain that sense of power and control. From that significance, I can understand its hinting at the broader theme of turning your selfish ambition into one that benefits others, finding your identity in something other than yourself; that’s more pointed than the other themes the movie seeks to address.
And that leads me to the biggest overall caveat that hinders this movies momentum: it’s overall messaging seems more bark than bite.
Said real-world metaphors and Hindi contexts bolster the films potency to a certain degree but it takes a while for the significance of those themes to really blossom and take shape and even when it does, it comes across very limited. Between the semi-milquetoast rollout of Kid’s backstory and vaguely POINTING to the problematic caste system and elitism, this “boisterous satire” of Modi-esque nationalism awkwardly imposes more than gestures; its commentary on polarising matters in India, including poverty and its treatment of religious minorities being severely half-baked doesn’t help.
While it is refreshing for us to put us into India’s world rather than the other way around, the portrayal of India in this film feels like a missed opportunity. I understand why they wanted to showcase it the way they did: poverty, crime, complete disregard for the poor - sure, those make sense, but they’re only part of the story. India is a land of breathtaking beauty, ancient traditions and cutting edge innovations and it BARELY feels like they showed any of that here; like they took a postcard of a dusty alley and shot it like a documentary. You get the feeling the film sacrifices authenticity for flash a lot and it teeters for style over substance constantly; like it wants to be more than a generic action thriller but opts out of doing the bare minimum to provide background details and context either due to a lack of foresight or a lack of time.
And even the ending falls short of its intended impact, leaving audiences disappointed despite the obvious implications it sets.
A novel but somewhat sloppy wrinkle in post-Wickian cinema that can sometimes be too self-indulgent for its own good, it’s is nevertheless an avant-garde debut for such an acceptably entertaining flick. Keep putting Patel behind the directors chair, though. Let him keep trying. He’s got a good foundation and the passion to carry it through but he just has to iron out a lot of creases and folds.
