By
Stephen King’s standards, Captain Petey Shelburn was not such a bad father. He
just had terrible instincts when buying collectibles. Don’t call this wind-up primate
a toy, because it is no fun to play with. It is the reason why Shelburn was
never around for his twin sons. Unfortunately, Hal and Bill Shelburn get stuck
with their father’s evil legacy in Osgood Perkins’ The Monkey, based on King’s
short story, which opens tonight in theaters.
Bill
was Hal’s senior by a few minutes—and he never let his “younger” brother forget
it. Bill bullied Hal mercilessly, but they were equally fascinated by their
absent father. However, the airline captain did not intentional abandon his
family, as viewers know from the bloody prologue. Inevitably, they find the
drumming monkey tucked away with Capt. Petey’s things and turn the key in his
back. Then, people start dying.
The
Monkey does not physically stab people like Chucky. Instead, it somehow
unleashes Final Destination-style accidents that always result in lethal
gore. Unfortunately, you cannot direct the simian assassin towards a specific
target. It kills who it wants to kill. The twins figure that one out after the
second turn of the key. Tragically for Hal, it kills their mother Lois instead
of Bill.
Of
course, the Monkey cannot be destroyed, so they chain it up in a box and dump
it in a well. Eventually, the twins go their separate ways to live sad,
solitary lives. Hal is especially sad, but he still manages to slip up and
father a son of his own. For young Petey’s safety, Hal tries to keep his
distance. However, during a rare road trip together (which might be his final
contact, if Petey’s mom and step-father have their way), Hal receives word that
his guardian aunt died in a freak Monkey-like accident. By the time Hal and
Petey (the younger) reach unfortunate Aunt Ida’s house, they find the town has
been plagued by a series of unlikely but gruesome accidents.
King’s
original story predated It, but the parallels that emerge in Perkins’
adaptation make it look like an early study for the mammoth novel. Similarly,
children survive an encounter with an uncanny evil force, but must return to
complete their unfinished business in adulthood. Both Pennywise the clown and
the organ-grinder-like Monkey also represent the corruption of symbols of
playfulness. However, the twins’ Cain and Abel dynamic adds a dark element
unique to The Monkey.
There was a time when Broadway was the place for horror. It was a very
different Broadway, when the masses could find an afternoon’s entertainment for
the change in their pocket. It was also a very different horror, with plays
like John Willard’s The Cat and the Canary and Adam Hull Shirk’s The
Ape supplying a Scooby-Doo-style “rational” explanation (and a lot of
killers in animal costumes). Horror has returned to Broadway, but the sensibilities
are more contemporary and the terrors are much more explicit than those of the
1920s. Unfortunately, ticket prices also conform to 2020’s expectations. Frankly,
getting snowed-in with a creepy family in the isolated cabin is bad in any
genre, but the implications are especially fearful in Levi Holloway’s Grey
House, directed by Joe Mantello, which officially opened last night on Broadway.
Technically,
their car hit a deer, but it seems like an unseen force is mysteriously guiding
Max and Henry to cabin in the woods. It is bitter cold out and Henry’s
banged-up leg needs tending, but the modest home still feels sinister. Soon,
the couple learns it is the abode of four pre-teen-to-teenaged girls and a silent
young boy, who all have a rather strange relationship with Raleigh, their
presumptive mother.
It
is the 1970s, but all the girls behave like they stepped out of an earlier era.
However, Henry quickly takes to the family’s medicine of choice: mysteriously
glowing moonshine, each batch of which carries a man’s name. The couple is in
big trouble, which they sort of recognize, but they do not realize how bad things
are until the girls invite Max to play their sinister (and possibly lethal) games.
The
producers of Grey House can hyphenate its categories all the like, but
there is definitely horror in there. There is even a spot of gore, which would
be modest by Evil Dead standards, but is quite impressive for a live
stage drama. In fact, there are a lot of clever visual effects that might not
be prohibitively expensive or complex, but look really impressive from the
audience’s perspective. There are things that suddenly shine or appear and
disappear that create a potent atmosphere of mystery and dread. Frankly, some
of revelations is Grey House are more shocking than they would be in a
movie, because as a play, you are seeing it “live.”
