Black Mirror (Season 7)

Creator: Charlie Brooker
Starring: Rashida Jones, Chris O' Dowd, Tracee Ellis Ross, Siena Kelly, Rosy McEwen, Ben Bailey Smith, Issa Rae, Awkwafina, Emma Corrin, Harriet Walter, Peter Capaldi, Lewis Gribben, Will Poulter, Paul Giamatti, Patsy Ferran, Cristin Milioti, Jesse Plemons, Jimmi Simpson, Billy Magnussen
Original Airdate: 2025

★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

If there's a recurring complaint about Charlie Brooker's British sci-fi anthology series Black Mirror, it's that its dark edge has gradually dulled since moving to Netflix in 2016 and becoming more "Americanized." And while there may be some truth to that, the bigger concern has been consistency, especially amid a revolving door of talent in front and behind the camera. With viewers often unsure when or if another season is coming, apathy can also set in, all while its critics continue to accuse Brooker of presenting repetitive variations on a similar theme. 

There's no denying that the dangers of modern technology provide its writers with endlessly fertile ground to draw from. But if the series always adheres to a comfortable formula (tech + humans = bad), veering too close or far from it has proved risky, especially when its most memorable entries tend to hit that sweet spot in between. This season continues the tradition, irritating those put off by the series' length and pacing while still appeasing fans enthralled with its Twilight Zone-inspired storytelling.

Because of its anthology format, none of the stories directly connect, but the show's been around long enough to have its own self contained universe, full of Easter eggs, callbacks, and tiny details tied to previous episodes. Now they've taken this further with a full blown sequel and spin-off that expand on what came before, while another cribs from the series' most beloved entry, suffering in comparison. The smartest entries always put the human element first, establishing its characters before their lives are upended by a twist that reveals who they really are. As usual, it's a trip worth taking, so long as you prepare yourself for a mixed bag of high and lows.

"Common People"  ★★½ (out of ★★★★)

When schoolteacher Amanda (Rashida Jones) falls into a coma with a brain tumor in director Aly Pankiw's depressing "Common People," her welder husband Mike (Chris O' Dowd) is approached by "Rivermind" representative Gaynor (Tracee Ellis Ross). If he signs on the dotted line for a monthly fee, the company can wirelessly transfer Amanda's lost brain function from its servers, giving her a second chance at life. But after she awakens and seemingly resumes normal activity, complications arise that require frequent subscription upgrades and more money to fix. And it's cash they just don't have, leading Mike to take desperate measures.

Though lacking surprises, this has its moments, mainly involving the procedure's wacky side effects and dire consequences related to Mike's perverse method for raising funds. A timely, damning indictment of the healthcare system, this bludgeons us with a message many already agree with, even if it doesn't offer a profound statement beyond watching the couple continuously suffer. The performances help pull it through, reminding us that the talented Jones should be doing more dramatic work while O' Dowd delivers as the anguished, supportive husband. You'll see the last scene coming from a mile away, but at least it's the right ending.

"Bête Noire" ★★★½ (out of ★★★★) 

The more unpredictable "Bête Noire" focuses on ace chocolate company food scientist Maria (Siena Kelly), who's stunned to see her old high school classmate Verity (Rosy McEwan) at headquarters before being hired as the newest assistant. But when Maria starts getting blamed for mistakes around the office, she suspects the quirky, eccentric Verity is behind it. Only there's a lot more to their history than we know, including a shocking secret that has Maria fighting to keep her job and sanity.

Skillfully directed by Toby Haynes, this contains a promising premise shrouded in mystery while doubling as a character study that explores the gap between perception and reality. After teasing a clever parable about gaslighting or maybe even some kind of Mandela Effect, the story's tech angle kicks in when the rug's pulled out in an intriguing third act twist. Featuring a handful of clever tiny details and two wildly entertaining performances, it's probably the most underappreciated of the season, likely to hold up on repeated watches. It takes a big swing toward the end that isn't completely earned, but the toxic interpersonal relationship keeps viewers guessing throughout its tight, well constructed 49 minutes. 

 

"Hotel Reverie" ★★½ (out of ★★★★)

Hotel Reverie features a promising premise that just doesn't reach its full potential despite the noblest intentions. When A-list star Brandy Friday (Issa Rae) unknowingly signs on to an AI-based remake of the classic film Hotel Reverie for ReDream productions, her consciousness gets uploaded into the black and white romantic drama. But after falling in love with a digital recreation of doomed actress Dorothy Chambers (Emma Corrin), sticking to the script becomes difficult, especially as an increasingly self aware Dorothy opens her eyes and heart to a world beyond the movie. Unfortunately, Brandy's desire for them to be together doesn't just threaten the film, but both their existences. 

Those classifying this as a poor man's "San Junipero" may actually be on to something beyond the obvious plot similarities of a romance defying constraints of time and space. It's almost as if there's a deliberate attempt by Brooker and director Haolu Wang an to recreate the magic of that Emmy winning episode, which is ironic for a script that revolves entirely around a remake. But Brooker's constant callbacks to that episode have actually done the series a disservice by setting other entries up for failure. This feels like one of them.

The real highlight is Emma Corrin's frighteningly believable turn as a golden age Hollywood star with personal demons who must face a sudden, shocking truth about herself. Issa Rae impresses less, though some of that can be attributed to playing a character already out of her element. They also lack chemistry, even if the bits within the film's AI universe do visually dazzle, providing a glimpse into what many hope won't be the future of movies. While marginally successful as a cautionary tale, sluggish pacing keeps the story at an arm's length. If nothing else, it's worth catching for Corrin's performance.

 

"Plaything" ★★★ (out of ★★★★)

An unofficial sequel to Black Mirror's 2018 interactive film Banderswitch, "Plaything" takes place in 2034, as manic, disheveled shoplifter Cameron Walker (Peter Capaldi) is linked by police to the murder of an unidentified victim decades ago. While interrogated, he opens up about the crime, which took place when the former PC Zone writer was invited by genius programmer Colin Ritman (Will Poulter) to review Tuckersoft's latest simulation game, "Thronglets." Ahead of its time, the game features no conflict, instead requiring the player to raise digital, sentient creatures. But when an obsessive Cameron becomes overly devoted to caring for them, tragedy strikes, causing him to go off the deep end.

Director David Slade keeps it simple, to the point that seeing Banderswitch is hardly a prerequisite to understanding or appreciating what unfolds. There's also a refreshingly direct throughline about human cruelty that may temporarily silence detractors who feel the series has lost its bite, with this episode coming closest to capturing the pessimistic world view of its early installments. And as good as Capaldi is in his unhinged turn, Lewis Gribbon equals him as younger Cameron, showing us how this awkward, supercharged bundle of nerves gets sucked into the addictive world of Colin's groundbreaking creation.  But it's really the juxtaposition of these innocent Minion-like creatures alongside an eventual eruption of violence that gives this episode its resonance. The implications are larger and wider reaching than the story's scale would suggest, leaving us with more to consider after the credits roll.

 

"Eulogy" ★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Deeply human and personal, "Eulogy" transfixes from start to finish, as lonely, middle-aged Phillip (Paul Giamatti) receives news from a company called "Eulogy" that his ex-girlfriend Carol (Hazel Monaghan) recently died. Despite having not seen her in decades, he's asked to contribute to the memorial via a kit that enables users to virtually step into their old photos. 

While taken through this process by The Guide (Patsy Ferran), an irritated, resistant Phillip realizes that he defaced all pictures of Carol after their break-up, adversely affecting memory retrieval. But as he walks through these photos, the pain and joy he experienced comes flooding back, forcing him to confront the actual truth about their relationship.

The concept of nostalgia therapy has been explored in Black Mirror a few times before, but never to this extent, and rarely as powerfully. Carrying thematic echoes of Serling's classic Twilight Zone episode "Walking Distance," there's no funny business here, as the episode's technological hook organically intertwines with its narrative to enhance this extremely relatable story of missed opportunity and regret. A touching treatise on the lies people tell themselves to make sense of their past choices, the episode isn't just Phillip's personal therapy session, but a virtual time capsule of sorts. 

Visually, directors Chris Barrett and Luke Taylor make the most of their photographic locations with Phillip physically traveling from one memory to the next, aided by an increasingly opinionated guide who extracts new truths from him at each stop. What results is something akin to a puzzle, with small clues gradually pushing the protagonist to drop his guard and acknowledge he wasn't exactly an innocent victim. It also shows how memories can positively and negatively co-exist in our minds, frequently clouding facts and obscuring objectivity. 

Giamatti hits all these heartbreaking beats with just the right mix of despair and bitterness, invoking genuine empathy for a cranky, irascible man who gets a front row seat to his biggest mistake. And as the dryly bemused guide with a secret, Farran makes for an ideal onscreen counterpart. The big twist is a slam dunk not just because it makes sense, but stands in stark contrast to the gloom and doom that's defined the series, this time using the technology to bring our protagonist closer to a more authentic version of himself and his past.

 

"USS Callister: Into Infinity" ★★★½ (out of ★★★★)  

Exciting and briskly paced, "USS Callister: Into Infinity" picks up after Callister Inc. employee Nanette (Cristin Milioti) discovered that deceased company CTO Robert Daly (Jesse Plemons) was harvesting her and other co-workers' DNA to create digital clones for his game. Now with sleazy CEO James Walton (Jimmi Simpson) being questioned by a reporter about Daly's technology, he and Nanette enter "Infinity" to help. But while Nanette's game avatar struggles to ensure her crew's survival by stealing space credits, a dark secret at the heart of Daly's creation puts them in further peril.  

The biggest surprise isn't how Brooker and returning director Toby Haynes seamlessly continue where Season 4's highly acclaimed, Star Trek-inspired space adventure left off, but that every original participant returns 7 years later. Of all the episodes, this is easily the most fun, immediately alleviating all concerns about remembering the previous chapter's details with a brief synopsis. But even those who missed the original should still find themselves immersed without confusion, investing in these quirky characters as the action shifts between the real world and this multiplayer universe.  

Milioti and Simpson entertainingly carry this in dual roles as the already blurry line separating game from reality is further obliterated by Daly, whose technological reach extends from beyond the grave. And while Plemons' screen time is less, he adds such a different dimension to his toxic, antisocial programmer it may as well be another part entirely. And in some ways it is, with Nanette and her crew finding that out the hard way, despite her best efforts to obtain a different result. Comedic and suspenseful, it's hour and a half flies by, raising the stakes while reaping the benefits of not being as heavy a watch as the other episodes. It's a worthy follow-up that not only builds on the original, but frequently surpasses it.                                 

Yellowjackets (Season 3)

Creators: Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson
Starring: Melanie Lynskey, Tawny Cypress, Christina Ricci, Simone Kessell, Sophie Nélisse, Jasmin Savoy Brown, Sophie Thatcher, Samantha Hanratty, Steven Krueger, Warren Kole, Courtney Eaton, Liv Hewson, Kevin Alves, Lauren Ambrose, Sarah Desjardins, Ella Purnell, Nia Sondaya, Alexa Barajas, Elijah Wood, Hilary Swank, Ashley Sutton, Nelson Franklin, Joel McHale
Original Airdate: 2025

**The Following Review Contains Plot Spoilers For The First Three Seasons Of 'Yellowjackets' **

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)   

There comes a point in nearly every cult mystery series where all the groundwork's been laid and fans demand answers, maybe assuming its writers have run dry of ideas. Then comes the big twist, completely altering the trajectory of the story and causing viewers to rethink what came before. For Lost, this happened in its third season finale, "Through the Looking Glass," when an infamous line of dialogue reveals a possibility we never considered. 

A similar shock comes in Yellowjackets' third season episode, "Thanksgiving (Canada)" when the missing Wyskayok High School girls soccer team's disturbing wilderness celebration is interrupted by three unknown visitors as a seemingly promising surprise leads to violence and volatility. No longer the same people they were when that plane crashed, the issue is less getting home than how many still want to. 

Whether you believe the wilderness has a "plan" or it's all just a reflection of their own fractured psyches, they're no longer a team, friends or even really a collective tribe. We know they'll be rescued, but as Craig Wedren and Anna Waronker's grungy opening theme makes clear, there's still "No Return," for those who make it back. And from its start, the show's played fast and loose with certain details, as doubt and plausible deniability continue to surround these characters' fates. 

It's spring 1997 and after a cabin fire that left the team without shelter, newly anointed leader Natalie (Sophie Thatcher) and the rest of the Yellowjackets have built a new camp. This while accused arsonist Coach Ben (Steven Krueger) is still on the loose and a fuming Shauna (Sophie Nélisse) continues to emotionally unravel after losing her baby and best friend Jackie (Ella Purnell).

Forming a toxic bond with the clingy Melissa (Jenna Burgess) Shauna channels her rage toward rival Mari (Alexa Barajas) and Ben, who Natalie and Misty (Samantha Hanratty) suspect could be innocent. Meanwhile, Spiritual guru Lottie (Courtney Eaton) continues to hear voices and see visions, recruiting Travis (Kevin Alves) and Akilah (Nia Sondaya) to help decipher the wilderness's messages. But a shocking arrival causes battle lines to be drawn, forcing inseparable couple Taissa (Jasmin Savoy Brown) and Van (Liv Hewson) to take sides.

In 2021, the group is grieving Natalie's (Juliette Lewis) accidental death at the hands of an inconsolable Misty (Christina Ricci), who starts hitting the bottle and rejects quirky boyfriend Walter's (Elijah Wood) attempts to help. But when an unhinged Shauna (Melanie Lynskey) suspects she's being anonymously stalked, the surviving Yellowjackets, her husband Jeff (Warren Kole) and daughter Callie (Sarah Desjardins) become increasingly concerned. Looking for answers from surprise houseguest Lottie (Simone Kessell), Callie intercepts a tape intended for her mom, the mysterious contents of which can ruin them all. And as Taissa (Tawny Cypress) and Van (Lauren Ambrose) struggle with the latter's deteriorating health, Shauna confronts a familiar face from the past.

Everything this season revolves around Shauna Shipman. While she was never the portrait of mental stability or even a well adjusted wife and parent, that was expected given what happened 25 years earlier. And if it was ever a time to view the cannibalism within the context of their dire circumstances, it's long passed. Something happened to them out there, and whether it's in their heads or related to the wilderness's metaphysical hold is irrelevant. All that matters is how far they've fallen.  

We've seen Shauna's need for control, but the loss of her baby last season has caused her to unleash a torrent of mental and physical abuse on her tribemates. Bloodthirsty and sadistic, she loves what she's become, mainly because it's the antithesis of what she was before. 

Respected, hated, feared and a leader, Shauna's somebody now, even if that evolution comes at the highest cost. And Sophie Nélisse is ferocious in this role, commanding the screen when plotting in silence with a nasty glare or barking orders at the top of her lungs. It's also an ideal compliment to Lynskey's performance in the later timeline, as both actresses subtly incorporating the other's more definable characteristics, even in their quietest scenes. 

Shauna's worst qualities take center stage when Ben's brought back to camp and put on trial for a crime everyone seems to know he didn't commit. That rigged system leads to the season's most intriguing monologue, as the exasperated, one legged assistant coach pleads for his life. With corrupted sidekick Melissa by her side, Shauna tips the scales of justice with the ultimate power play, even as Lottie believes he holds a greater purpose in somehow facilitating their path home. But the torment he suffers only has him wishing he went sooner, sparing him the knowledge that these girls he once coached are unrecognizable from the sociopaths they've become. 

Despite a pallor of tragedy hanging over the principal players, the 2021 timeline initially boasts a looser, more comedic tone that can partially be attributed to Christina Ricci's continued brilliance as the wacky, obsessive Misty. Her boyfriend and fellow citizen detective Walter is right in questioning why she's letting these "friends" use her, but the real fun comes when Misty gradually reaches that same conclusion, particularly when it comes to Shauna. Manufacturing problems for thrills and excitement's sake, even Callie and Jeff can't stand her anymore, recognizing the danger she's put them in. 

Last season's MVP Sarah Desjardins again impresses as Callie, who forms a strange, parasitic bond with Lottie to learn more about her mom's past. But it's Lottie who senses something stronger inside Callie, and whether that's her mental illness talking, what we've seen so far still seems to confirm it. 

Callie's definitely her mother's daughter, accompanied by all the baggage that lineage entails, dating back to what happened in those woods. The tape Shauna's threatened with holds the answers, even as Taissa's demonic side reemerges, taking desperate measures to buy a dying Van more time. Between her disturbing visions and continued obsession with sacrifice, she joins the rest in knowing she'll never feel or be "normal." 

Aside from how late in the game she arrives, what's most surprising about two-time Academy Award winner Hilary Swank's turn as Melissa are the ramifications of her face-to-face reunion with Shauna. Certain Melissa's behind the tape and Lottie's murder, Shauna's approach sure isn't subtle, making for the season's most suspenseful showdown, intrinsically tied to everything we've seen occur in the past timeline. Swank's only in two episodes, but she makes them count, causing us to constantly second guess Melissa's true motivations.

The episode "Croak" serves as a huge departure, using its first 20 minutes to focus entirely on frog scientists Edwin (Nelson Franklin) and Hannah (Ashley Sutton) and their survivalist guide Kodiak (Joel McHale). After exploring their purpose and personalities, we'll see how the strangers stumble upon the Yellowjackets' cannibalistic feast, where Lottie's impulsive actions set in motion their eventual imprisonment and deaths. They'll be seen less as lifelines than witnesses capable of spilling the girls' darkest misdeeds to the outside world, exposing them as a murderous cult. 

That development takes the story where it was foreshadowed to go since the pilot, when we wildly speculated on the identities of Pit Girl and Antler Queen. Both are revealed as this feuding tribe splits in two, with only a maniacal Shauna standing in the way of those ready to leave, terrified of relinquishing power and returning to her old life. But while we already know captive researcher Hannah's ultimate fate, she still holds the cards as a pivotal new figure, ingratiating herself into the tribe for a shot at survival, and seeing her daughter again. Instead, she'll pass along the damning evidence that haunts the Yellowjackets decades later.

The longstanding love-hate relationship between Natalie and Misty is given new context in the aptly titled finale, "Full Circle," adding poignancy and context to the tragedy that concluded last season. And if Juliette Lewis' departure left a hole, Ambrose's Van meets a similarly tragic end, culminating in another powerful dream sequence that features both Ambrose and Hewson sharing the screen.

All those allusions to Natalie being responsible for getting them home are starting to play out as we approach the home stretch, with Thatcher skillfully shouldering the weight left in Lewis' absence and solidifying herself as the show's lynchpin opposite Nélisse. And in a series known for its inspired 90's needle drops, they save their best for last when Natalie makes it to the top of that cliff with satellite phone in hand, frantically hoping to hear a voice on the other end. 

With rescue suddenly feeling closer than ever, it would be a massive disappointment if this series somehow wasn't granted the chance to complete a story that hasn't peaked. But even while confusion over this Showtime/Paramount streaming situation and the questionable availability of rapidly rising stars like Thatcher present logistical challenges for renewal, neither seem insurmountable.

What sets this apart from any current drama is  creators Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson's ability to make the tough decisions, as proven by a death toll that reaches alarming new heights this season. For better or worse, and to fans' occasional frustration, no one's ever safe. But for all the obstacles facing the series as it winds down, it remains one of TV's most addictive shows, primed to cross the finish line as something more than just a giant "what if.."                                            

A Different Man

Director: Aaron Schimberg
Starring: Sebastian Stan, Renate Reinsve, Adam Pearson, C. Mason Wells, Owen Kline, Charlie Korsmo, Patrick Wang, Michael Shannon
Running Time: 112 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

With A Different Man, writer/director Aaron Schimberg's asks the intriguing question of how someone living with a seemingly permanent condition would react if they were cured. It's easy to assume they'd be thrilled to put the agony behind them and start over, maybe even reinventing themselves to take advantage of all the opportunities that slipped by. But if said disorder directly ties to their physical appearance, it's more complicated, forcing them adjust to an existence that no longer hinges on how others see them. 

The film's facially disfigured protagonist knows all about perception, as it fully informs how he talks, walks and carries himself through various interactions, many of which are unpleasant. And though it's become routine, this doesn't necessarily make it any less easier or tiresome, even as he tries to take it in stride. Some glance, others turn away in shock while the rest either just politely pretend not to notice him or are too involved in their own business to care. 

Assumptions that Schimberg would make some kind of disabled PSA are shot down with an early scene that spoofs one, setting the stage for a dark, absurdly hilarious satire anchored by a gut-wrenching turn from Sebastian Stan on par with his recently Oscar nominated work in The Apprentice. That this is the same actor we just watched play a young Donald Trump is mind boggling, even while acknowledging both characters' affinities for real estate and reinvention. Here, he creates this indelible portrait of a man who gets a life changing gift, only to collapse under the weight of a jarring new reality that might cost him everything.

Struggling, socially awkward New York-based actor Edward Lemuel (Stan) suffers from neurofibromatosis, a genetic medical condition that causes disfiguring facial tumors. Plagued with lingering self consciousness and anxiety, he befriends new neighbor and aspiring playwright Ingrid Vold (Renate Reinsve) moves in next door, with him even gifting her his vintage typewriter. Fearing to express his romantic feelings, he soon gets a call to participate in an experimental drug treatment that could potentially cure his condition, Shocked to discover it actually works, an entire outer layer of skin peels off as the tumors begin dissipating 

Now with a new appearance, Edward fakes his suicide, taking the name of "Guy Moratz" as he accumulates wealth and success as a hotshot realtor. But when he discovers Ingrid is producing an off-Broadway play based his life, he's compelled to audition for the lead, with her unaware of his true identity. As the two grow close again, a confident, outgoing neurofibromatosis patient named Oswald (Adam Pearson) takes interest in the production. Soon, his input into the show's direction heavily influences Ingrid, jeopardizing Edward's chances at tackling the role he was born to play.

The possibility it wasn't Edward's physical appearance that held him back, but his own insecurity is a notion that taints what should be a celebratory metamorphosis into the man he always wanted to be. But the recognition this miracle cure won't just flip a switch that shuts off his problems is a tough pill to swallow, especially since there are issues related to having the condition that aren't solely physical. 

Putting the film's magical realism aside to view this strictly as a actual medical breakthrough, it's likely any patient would have mental health professionals charting their progress for years following the procedure. And while that could have very well been protocol, Edward disappearing in an effort to erase his past throws that for a loop. In actuality, the hardest lesson he'll learn is how he's still the same exact person, regardless of looks. 

Edward's top priority soon becomes reconnecting with Ingrid in an attempt to take the place in her life and on stage he feels he's owed. But when Oswald bursts onto the scene and stands out as someone with the same affliction, but a far different personality, his plan unravels. Gregarious and fun, Oswald's everything he isn't, and as crazy as things get when this man politely interjects himself into the play, Schimberg's script carefully avoids painting either as the villain. It's Edward who becomes his own worst enemy. 

Beneath makeup artist Mike Marino's facial prosthetics (which draws Elephant Man comparisons), Stan's withdrawn demeanor and closed off body language offer powerful glimpses into Edward's defeated state of mind and sense of inadequacy. And the feeling's only heightened by a hypnotic, insanely catchy original score from composer Umberto Smerelli that captures the story's bizarre idiosyncrasies. Stan's performance truly takes hold when the miracle drug does, with an uncomfortably anguished Edward slowly becoming invisible in this new skin, going so far as wearing the mask mold of his old face to reclaim his "original" life.

Reinsve brilliantly plays Ingrid as full of inscrutable contradictions, her true feelings and intentions constantly keeping us on our toes. While cultivated over a relatively short period of time, the bond she shares with Edward seems genuine, even if her promise to write him into a play that revolves around his life can be read any number of ways. If we're left speculating whether this is charity or borders on exploitation. she also wrestles with that herself. The idea pops up again in a superb later scene where Edward glumly listens to an irritating but observant audience member's interpretation of the show that mirrors our own conflicted theories.  

Pearson (who's best known for 2013's Under The Skin and lives with neurofibromatosis) is a revelation as the free spirited Oswald, whose eerily timed presence is offset by his charm. Even when a frustrated Edward's jealously take over, he still can't really bring himself to hate someone whose jovial personality becomes the measuring stick for what could have been. He sees at least part of himself in this pleasant stranger, culminating in a third act that skirts the line between tragedy and farce as cruelly comical misfortune unfolds. And while the possibility of revealing the truth to Ingrid constantly hangs over this picture, coming clean and attempting to regain his allegedly stolen life isn't so simple when it's already gone.

With elements recalling that classic Twilight Zone episode, "Eye of the Beholder,"The Substance and even Adaptation, this film examines an anti-hero who can't emotionally disengage from the supposed ugliness he thought was holding him back, no matter how miraculous the outward transformation. Maybe Edward was just incapable of change this entire time, unable to let go of who he always viewed himself to be.The final line is an ironic gut punch, finding profound meaninglessness at the bottom of a meta rabbit hole where art and morality intersect.

The Monkey

Director: Osgood Perkins
Starring: Theo James, Tatiana Maslany, Christian Convery, Colin O' Brien, Rohan Campbell, Sarah Levy, Adam Scott, Elijah Wood, Osgood Perkins, Tess Degenstein, Danica Dreyer, Laura Mennell
Running Time: 98 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)   

With barely enough time to catch our breathe and recover after his release of last year's polarizing Longlegs, writer/director Osgood Perkins returns with The Monkey, based on Stephen King's popular short story from 1985's "The Skeleton Crew." And while it's somewhat of a departure for a filmmaker whose previous horror entries have been deadly serious, signs started to emerge he could be veering closer to the mainstream with subsequent efforts. 

After showing an affinity for dark, cerebral thrillers like Se7en and Zodiac in Longlegs, Perkins' story took a turn into more conventional territory, splitting critics and audiences down the middle. This combined with one of Nic Cage's crazier performances makes it less shocking to see the director now giving us a black comedy that invokes Final Destination, Child's Play and M3GAN by way of M. Night Shyamalan. But it's also his most purely enjoyable outing, full of gruesomely macabre situations and laugh out loud moments that should cause viewers to satisfyingly squirm with discomfort.

In 1999, identical twin brothers Hal and Bill Shelburn (Christian Convery) are left to be raised by single mother Lois (Tatiana Maslany) when their father (Adam Scott) disappears after attempting to return a drum-playing toy monkey to an antique shop. But when the boys go through their dad's belongings and discover the toy, they find that the monkey causes death once its mechanical key is turned. And after their beloved babysitter is decapitated, Hal's attempt to kill his bullying brother backfires when he realizes the monkey doesn't take requests, leaving them motherless and under the guardianship of kooky aunt Ida (Sarah Levy) and uncle Chip (Perkins).

Now twenty-five years after the monkey's presumed disposal, Hal and Bill (Theo James) are estranged, with Hal rarely seeing his own teen son Petey (Colin O' Brien) in an effort to protect him from the toy's potential return. But when a freak accident draws him back to his childhood home in Maine, it's clear the monkey's back to claim a new cluster of innocent victims. Reconnecting with Bill, Hal must find a way to stop this while protecting a son who assumes his dad wants nothing to do with him. Only when the family finally comes to terms with their shared, sordid past can they possibly put an end to the destruction.

In a lengthy but gripping prologue, the monkey is introduced via a hysterically unhinged Adam Scott performance as the twins' father, shaken to his core in attempting to rid himself of what he warns the store's owner isn't a "toy." This blood-soaked scenario perfectly sets the stage for what follows, as its the first of many elaborately staged monkey kills that tie into the film's central theme of not knowing when anyone's time is up, an idea imparted on the twins by their cynical, bracingly honest mom Lois. 

The opening section works overtime in establishing the uneasy dynamic between siblings who Convery gives two very distinct personalities, especially with his depiction of Bill as an insufferable, bullying teen we want to see get his comeuppance. And Maslany makes a huge impact with limited screen time, her character leaving an impression on the twins that lingers long after the prologue ends. She's also at the center of the film's most chilling moment, with Perkins knowing that for as many over-the-top, jaw dropping deaths there are, hers needs to be played terrifyingly straight.  

Once the action shifts into the present and reluctant father Hal attempts to shield Petey from the monkey, things get pretty wild, as the doll causes continuous carnage with its randomly sadistic murders, most notably an electrifying one at a hotel pool. But the most impressive aspect of all this insanity is how firm a grasp Perkins has on tone, infusing often ludicrous scenes with Hal's lingering guilt, which is magnified by the twin he still resents and a son he's pushed away.

After seemingly falling off the movie radar for years, Divergent series star Theo James pulls off a Josh Hartnett inspired comeback to portray adult Hal as a dad too imprisoned by his mistakes to forge a real relationship with anyone until catastrophe intervenes. He's also resonates equally as the smug, slimy Bill, whose preoccupation with avenging their mother's death decades earlier carries lethal consequences. We also get some humorous turns from Elijah Wood as a self-help parenting guru married to Hal's ex-wife and Halloween Ends' Rohan Campbell (in a hilarious wig) as a local metalhead who comes into possession of the cursed toy. 

Visually striking and atmospheric, there's a sense of sinister, pessimistic dread that's driven home with an occasionally powerful message about death and childhood trauma. The events are over-the-top, but presented in such a way that you'll feel and fear the cruel hand of fate behind each kill. Despite minor faults accompanying a busy final act, it's hard to imagine King himself being dissatisfied, especially when compared to lesser cinematic interpretations of his work. Those still anxiously waiting for Perkins to take his talent to the next level may have to wait a little longer, but as a fun, skillfully made diversion, The Monkey checks just about every box.