Happy birthday, Dev Patel!
The erstwhile Skins actor turned hottest living Oscar nominee is 34 years old today and, as if to commemorate the occasion, Monkey Man just became available on PVOD. The India-set action movie is Patel's feature directorial debut, though he's more than just the guy calling the shots from the director's chair. The multi-hyphenated artist also produced and wrote the revenge flick. Oh, and he stars in it, too, doing most of his stunts, which resulted in a broken hand on the first days of shooting. Overall, it was a challenging project to bring to fruition, made more so when Netflix dropped Monkey Man in response to its political content. Thankfully, Jordan Peele came to the rescue, guaranteeing the film a theatrical release that, if nothing else, confirmed Dev Patel's promise as a bonafide movie star…
Steeped in folkloric imagery and a charged political conscience, Monkey Man is the kind of project electrified by an artist's need to prove themselves. In that regard, there's a sense of unity between Patel, the filmmaker, and the character he portrays on screen - Kid, an underground boxer in a fictional city that's clearly meant to evoke Mumbai. Orphaned from a young age, the man bears the scars of a traumatic past the script isn't willing to disclose right away, rationing each morsel of information. This way, Kid remains enclosed in mystery for much of the runtime, though the strong emotion underlying every one of his choices is plain to see. We don't need to know Kid to understand him at a visceral level.
And that's a good word to apply to much of Monkey Man – visceral. It's what Patel and company are trying to achieve with their grimy set design and even grimier cinematography, full of shaky cam and such obsessive closeups one sometimes gets dizzy while trying to discern what's happening. The editing keeps the action clear for the most part, but a palpable pull of immersion runs through the picture. Alternating registers, including Go Pros and the like, provide a frenetic plasticity to the image in reflecting Kid's odyssey of mortified flesh. His body bears the bloody cost of his revenge, evident like a mural of blood and purple bruise on canvas.
Sometimes, one feels like the avenging angel's physicality is an easier entry into his secrets than whatever clues the script provides, though a fiery flashback eventually gives us the answers. The star's anatomy is also a spectacle, ogled and admired as both a killing machine and a hot iron of desire. Not his own, mind you. There's little passion in the man's eyes beyond his violent purpose, but the audience is led to share the fealty others come to feel for the man, willing to risk it all for what he represents by the end of his path. As one would expect from such descriptions, Monkey Man is a tragedy, but there's a mercy of peace afforded to the protagonist before the credits roll.
In the eye of the hurricane, Patel plays the person and the persona, the mystery of flesh, and a bloodless idea to go along with it. While it may not rank among his most complex characterizations, Kid still represents the actor at the top of his game, his tragic arc full of opportunities for the thespian to show off. As a director, he does much the same, though the inelegant framing betrays some greenness, and the mark of his many influences is as clear as a watermark over the film. Pitched as "John Wick in Mumbai," Monkey Man owes just as much to the Hong Kong action scene, the high-octane energy of martial arts cinema, and the sheer brutality of Korean thrillers,
Squeamish folks, beware, for this isn't a movie willing to shy away from grotesquerie when it's there for the taking, ready to be savored. Noses are ripped off from faces, leaving gaping holes behind. Knives are plunged into necks in slow lurches, teeth gnarled and chipping with pressure on the handle. Nails carve musculature in jagged lines, and sweat shines bright when mixed with blood and spit. It's often horrifying, though the right audience will find it exhilarating. At the very least, I did, basking in its high-octane madness and pulverizing anger. That last part is essential, for it adds another dimension to the Monkey Man mayhem. After all, it's the reason Netflix dropped it.
At the heart of Patel's movie lies a critique against Hindu nationalism and the political opportunism of those who use religion to consolidate power. Though censorious post-production tricks recolored a few flags, the marigold of the Bharatiya Janata Party still makes an appearance in the background of shots. Moreover, there's a general call to arms directed at the marginalized, like the hijra community that embraces and fights for Kid when nobody else will. Within the action genre, so often marred by machismo, there's something magical about watching characters who repudiate gender binaries become action stars, their combat punctuated with shots of twirling skirts and sequins.
Despite being fueled by putative rebellion, action cinema often underlines the status quo. Not Monkey Man, whose fury is funneled into the desire for actual change. It may not be achieved in this first violent swing, but it can be grasped down the line. Whatever the case, Kid will never see it. We're left with him amid the deadening chaos, catching the faint glimmers of hope in Patel's design.
Monkey Man is available to rent or buy on all the major platforms.