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Monkey Shines
Reviewed by Edward Larsen Terkelsen

USA, R, 113 m, 1988
Directed by George A. Romero. Stars Jason Beghe, John Pankow, Kate McNeil, et al.

 

George A. Romero, who had us scared shitless over the cannibalistic goings-on down on the zombie-infested farm in the low-budget cult classic Night of the Living Dead, now gets us laughing ourselves silly over the high jinks of a syringe-wielding primate in the not-so-low-budget box office washout Monkey Shines. Jason Beghe (who looks a lot like a young Ryan O’Neal) plays Allan, a jocko law student who goes for a run one morning (wearing a backpack full of bricks) and winds up under the wheels of a semi-truck. Allan survives the accident, but is left a quadriplegic. Allan’s hottie girlfriend, Linda (Janine Turner), finds it hard to love a man whose legs are bent and paralyzed, so she takes her love to town and hooks up with Allan’s lothario doctor (Stanley Tucci). This makes room for Allan’s overassertive mother (Joyce Van Patten) to come in and take control of her son’s life. She hires a live-in nurse (Christine Forrest) who lets her pet parakeet, Bogart, flutter about the house and peck at Allan’s eyes. All this tension drives Allan to attempt suicide by suffocation. But Allan’s emotional state rebounds after his scientist pal, Geoffrey (John Pankow), presents him with a little helper.  

Her name is Ella (Boo), a capuchin monkey, and she cheerfully attends to a variety of odd jobs for her new crippled master, such as putting on music and fetching sippy cups. What Allan doesn’t know is that Geoffrey has been shooting up the tiny ape with human brain cells, which somehow helps her to mind-meld with Allan. Ella starts acting out Allan’s darkest fantasies; she becomes the furry, sharp-toothed embodiment of his id. As Allan grows more aggravated and mistrustful with those around him, Ella grows more lethal. One night, Ella kills the parakeet and deposits its carcass in one of the nurse’s slippers. Later, she sneaks out of the house to pay Doc and Linda a visit, and then sets them on fire while they engage in the old in-out. Eventually, Ella gets so possessive of Allan that she tries to off his new gal pal from the helper monkey program. Who’d of thought that such a sweet little thing could bring on a bloodbath this, uh, bloody? 

Monkey Shines runs a solid two hours, which is an unusually long running time for this sort of B-grade junk, but Romero smartly invests much of that time in building Allan’s relationship with Ella so come their climactic face-off we’ll be shaken out of our seats. Well, you’re more likely to fall out of your seat convulsing with laughter as the whole thing comes off looking utterly absurd. Still, Romero keeps you watching. Never mind the inbuilt ridiculousness of the premise, Monkey Shines is good sneaky fun.  

Though Monkey Shines marks her first and last appearance on the silver screen, Boo gives the film’s most compelling performance. That’s not to say that her co-stars are bad actors, but rather they’ve been handed such ludicrous parts that even the most seasoned thespian this side of Olivier would come off looking like a schnook. I felt the sorriest for Van Patten. The filmmakers see her as a two-dimensional harpy—an emasculating shrew who keeps her talons deeply dug into Allan’s numb nuts. She probably only wants what’s best for her boy, but you know by the unflattering way Romero frames her that she’s high on the chimp’s shit list. Though it was Ella’s wheelchair-bound senpai that I really wanted to see get it in the end. I found his sanctimonious self-pity pretty damned annoying.

August 31, 2007

© Copyright 2007 by Edward Larsen Terkelsen. All rights reserved.

 

 

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