It’s the Snake’s time to shine on the zodiac calendar, yet it seems 2025 is the Year of the Monkey. With the dulcet tones of Better Man and the howling screeches of Osgood Perkin’s aptly named The Monkey, magic primates are popping up all around us. Therefore, it seems fitting that Aidan Leary and C.R Thompson’s Monkey’s Magic Merry Go Round should arrive with such supernatural timing, especially in Melbourne and Sydney.
Despite the happy accident of its release date however, the film seems to chase the upcoming wave of analogue horror films, as James ‘Jimbo’ Jesen (Michael Gilio), a Mr. Rodgers-esque TV presenter, hosts a children’s show alongside the uncanny Monkey (Frank Cesario) with a slew of other ‘not quite right’ critters. When Jimbo’s innocent questions are answered with awkward silence behind the camera, we get the uncomfortable sense that we’ve been here before.
Online that is, because even though the Witching Hour programs we’ve turned our theatre screens to have undoubtedly surprised us (Late Night with the Devil, I Saw the TV Glow and Skinamarink to name a few smash hits), the trend has all but worn itself out on the internet. The Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared Series being the most obvious comparison. With its expert puppeteering and sudden flashes of skin crawling gore, and even more recent examples by younger artists like Kane Parson’s reimagining of the ‘Backrooms’ (which also has an upcoming feature thanks to A24) rack millions of views on YouTube everyday, and have left scars that those under thirty are unlikely to forget. So, considering all this history, does Monkey’s Magic Merry Go Round have what it takes to stand amongst the greats of analogue horror, much less stand on their shoulders?
It starts promising enough, with a charming musical number – brought to life with a period accurate score by Kyle William Stephens – and bright, VHS abbaratted colours. Not to mention Monkey, whose human hands, complete with the grimy fingernails of C.R Thompson himself, throws us off balance as he apes the frame with his closeups. And as Jimbo speaks on the importance of memory, only for the music to cut once a pissed off James reads an ominous letter reading “FREAK”, we know we are in for a wild ride! Although, once James has figured out he’s lost his memories, it dawns on us just how long this ride is supposed to last. By the time we check our watch at the five minute mark, we’re already given enough clues – a match, a bottle of whiskey and a family home – to surmise the rather undercooked reveal at the climax.
That’s not to say Leary and Thompson’s attempt isn’t admirable. For one thing, the eye bulging introduction of Ferret was startling, and while it isn’t exactly innovative, the flashes between the cutesy and grotesque are masterfully done. Considering its a film that’s emulating a specific online aesthetic, it does a remarkable job staying out of otherwise cringeworthy territory.
Meanwhile, Gilio’s performance as James/Jimbo is phenomenal. While the rough script doesn’t exactly capture his acting in quite the right way, his physicality is mesmerising. His miming is first class, right down to the joints. When James creates his new friend, Neil, from a shirt, some markers and his spare knee, the speed with which Gilio is able to separate the performer from his puppet’s desperate pleas for death is nothing short of magic. Channeling David Dastmalcian’s Jack Leroy, it’s easy to see why Gilio’s presence saves the film from being a slog to sit through.
However, he’s not enough to save the film from being drawn out, as the film’s scariest and most shocking moments are better served as highlights on YouTube. Like its predecessors, the film’s much better in smaller doses. For as expertly made as Monkey’s Magic Merry Go Round is, the already loose connective tissue of its plot – inspired from the five minute Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared episodes – mashed together with a series of otherwise decent vignettes, stretches incredibly thin on a feature length timeline.
Regardless, James' descent into playtime madness was enjoyable enough and thanks to the passion that was behind exhuming it from the abandoned TV station it was probably buried within, it’s made all the better. And while I won’t be remembering it as fondly as something like Late Night with the Devil, it’s “far too nice,” to not be found swimming around the back of my subconscious.
Director: Aidan Leary
Cast: Michael Gilio, Frank Cesario, Connar Brown Sprenger
Writers: Aidan Leary, C.R. Thompson
Producers: Jordan Beckerman, Ben Gojer, Will Hirschfeld, Jordan Yale Levine, Joe Swanberg
Composer: Kyle William Stephens
Cinematographer: Kevin Veselkla
Editor: C.R. Thompson