Monkey Shines: Romero’s Campy Horror Miss

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#12 in my ranking of George A. Romero’s filmography.

After making another attempt to distance himself from his zombie film legacy, George Romero devoted years to launching various projects, with the most notable being an adaption of Stephen King’s “Pet Sematary,” which unfortunately never materialized. However, he eventually managed to get his next film underway with an adaptation of the novel by Michael Stewart, which shares a King-like atmosphere and transforms ordinary, seemingly harmless things into sinister elements. Yet, something seems amiss in its execution that shifts it from being deliberately scary to potentially cheesy. Frankly, I’m surprised it isn’t celebrated as a camp classic now.

In a tragic turn of events, Allan (Jason Beghe), who’s both a law student and a track athlete, encounters an accident while running, being struck by a truck, which results in him becoming paralyzed. His physician, Dr. Wiseman (Stanley Tucci), manages to repair a damaged vertebrae, but Allan is now confined to a wheelchair that he navigates using a joystick controlled by his mouth. Heartbreakingly, his girlfriend, Linda (Janine Turner), abandons him for Dr. Wiseman. His closest friend, Geoffrey (John Pankow), who works in a university lab, elects to shield their top research subject from Dean Burbage (Stephen Root) by having it trained as a personal aid for Allan by Melanie (Kate McNeil).

Initially, this movie takes an unexpectedly slow pace, centering around the character Allan as he adapts to his new circumstances. With less action than usual, it paints a vivid picture of Allan learning to live anew in a different manner. It’s a journey marked by struggles, such as a suicide attempt that is fortunately halted when Geoffrey arrives just in the nick of time. This segment serves as a strong base for the narrative development: Allan forming a deep bond with and relying heavily on Ella, the monkey character.

If the movie had ended by subtly illustrating an overly dependent bond between Allan and Ella due to Geoffrey’s experiments, leaving their relationship somewhat enigmatic yet attached, it would have provided a clear narrative structure. Instead, the story becomes less straightforward as Allan develops psychic connections with Ella, experiencing her perspectives while he sleeps as he grows closer to Melanie after Linda leaves him. This psychic bond escalates when Allan receives a conflicting diagnosis about his condition, causing him to become furious, and culminates in Dr. Wiseman and Linda’s deaths at Linda’s cabin, an event that Allan witnesses through Ella’s eyes.

Essentially, the plot presents a puzzle: if a monkey receives brain tissue transplant and can somehow establish telepathic links with a human who has not been similarly treated, it raises questions. This element seems superfluous and even eerie, potentially adding an unwanted metaphysical element to the story that may only serve to confuse viewers. However, this is less problematic than the graphic physical horror depicted in the film.

A pet capuchin monkey named Ella seems unusually intelligent and has developed an unusual fondness for Allan, causing him distress as she outmaneuvers him without any physical retaliation he can employ. Meanwhile, Ella overpowers both Geoffrey and Melanie, which is surprising given their size advantage. The close-up shots are primarily used in these interactions because the disparity in size becomes strikingly apparent in wider shots, making it almost comical. One might assume that Geoffrey and Melanie should be able to handle a small monkey like Ella, especially for as long as they do, but this is not the case. Intrigued, I questioned how the initial marketing of this film emphasized the horror aspect, which appears to rely heavily on close-ups rather than the actual monkey itself. It seems that the marketing team understood the farcical nature of the climactic scene and tried to downplay it by focusing more on a toy monkey clapping cymbals in the trailer.

As a movie enthusiast, I must confess that the film’s climax leaves me feeling rather underwhelmed. The central horror element fails to instill true dread, and unfortunately, it just doesn’t live up to its potential. Despite some commendable character development, the third act lacks the visceral impact required to truly deliver on the intended scare factor. It seems that these later scenes might have been more effective in a novel format, but the transition from page to screen appears to have been miscalculated.

In retrospect, during pre-production, perhaps George A. Romero should have recognized that capuchin monkeys might not be as frightening as intended. Swapping them for a larger monkey or even a small ape could have potentially enhanced the horror element, even if it deviated slightly from the reality of helper monkeys. After all, sometimes sacrificing a bit of authenticity can lead to a more effective scare.

The movie appears to be extended in several areas, notably the university politics subplot involving Dean Burbage, which seems to fizzle out without much resolution compared to Geoffrey’s conflicts. Furthermore, there seems to be a lack of development for Linda, suggesting that she may have had more screen time, particularly before Allan’s accident.

Romero chose a project he was also likely to choose, added parts that somewhat muddied the waters, and struggled to elicit horror in the climactic scene. However, his unexpected talent for character development (as demonstrated in movies like Knightriders) lends credibility to the movie’s opening act and keeps it moving through the second act as things become less coherent from a narrative/horror standpoint. Ultimately, it’s an uneven film with some early appeal.

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2025-02-24 00:30