It may be a bit morbid, but it shouldn’t be controversial to suggest that grief is one of entertainment’s most utilized plot devices. It’s an exploration into one’s inner conflict before they’re given a chance for redemption. Caroline Lindy, who writes and directs Your Monster, seems to be a perfect conduit for that formula, writing characters that are deeply flawed and profane, but while providing justification for the twists and turns that their humanity has taken them on. When Laura (Melissa Barrera) returns home from a lengthy hospital stay, her planned future appears to be in shambles. A burgeoning stage actress, her career is now in limbo due to a cancer diagnosis, as well as the abrupt breakup spurred by her ex boyfriend, Jacob (Edmund Donovan).
Jacob just so happens to also be a stage producer, using his power to aid the career of his girlfriend, as Laura was once penciled in to be the lead of his upcoming play. But after being ditched in her hospital bed, Laura doesn’t know if she can count on that connection anymore, a disoriented sense of self that’s thrown further into chaos when Laura discovers that an actual monster (Tommy Dewey) has been living in her childhood home this entire time. The monster accuses Laura of trespassing on his space, and it now seems to Laura that everyone wants to push her away.
Lindy’s film is about mishaps and setbacks, but also one’s perseverance to fight for the things that they feel they’ve earned. In that context, Your Monster plays with the intentional hypocrisy of a professional relationship that’s fueled by nepotism, especially when that dynamic is turned on its head when one of the parties deems the relationship no longer beneficial to him. It’s a breakdown of transactional romance, questioning who we can really trust with our heart and soul.
Barrera has been a movie star for quite a few years, but this may be her first lead role that really challenges her ability to display a multitude of feelings. Sure, there’s much of the same charm that you’ve come to expect from her, but with an added layer of schadenfreude as the character is put through several trials of misfortune, trying to hold on to her dignity as her contentious relationship is outed, and her professional career is put in jeopardy.
Barrera plays this to the exact pitch that Lindy sets the tone – the movie has a tongue-in-cheek sense of humor about itself, often setting its characters up for unenviable gags as we’re meant to laugh at the depth of their misfortune. When Laura first encounters the titular monster, she’s frozen in fear and hacks out a seemingly endless wail that wouldn’t seem out of place from a shrill sitcom housewife straight outta Queens.
Lindy’s tone is deliberately over the top, balancing the fact that cancer is the undercurrent of the entire plot, but refusing to drench the story in dread and sadness. That’s why when we meet the monster, he’s not just an unkempt derelict, but he’s also kind of funny. In fact, as the characters early on establish a chord of screwball humor, it’s Dewey’s performance that screams off the screen, dropping obscenities and an unbridled rage, completely changing the temperature and the energy of the entire movie. It’s in that vein that while Barrera certainly has the most to do here, it’s Dewey who may be delivering the most confident and unfiltered performance. The character has a major ego, one that initially clashes with Laura, as they vacillate from being depicted as ogre vs. damsel in distress, to two childish roommates arguing over the remote and basic living etiquette.
The film operates like a modern comedy, but one that longs for how these films used to be made, which is reflected in Lindy’s execution. Laura cries while watching sappy flicks from the Golden Age of Hollywood, and Your Monster begins to pick up on some of the DNA of those over-the-top productions. That’s why the acting isn’t played straight like most films of this era – there’s an irreverence to the dialogue and the showy performances, almost as if we’re about to see the title card from The Office.
This approach gives Your Monster a unique, upbeat flavor, but in certain scenes comes off as overly silly and unserious, especially giving some of the subject matter.
While Your Monster may long for some of those older movies, it’s location is ultimately nailed down to modern-day New York, satirizing the entertainment industry and the unsavory realities that its characters brush off. Laura’s best friend, Mazie (Kayla Foster), is also an actor and, in one moment, just casually drops that she’s off to an audition with a producer that wants to sleep with her. The characters have a detached relationship to the power dynamics in their industry, as if they’re already resigned to their shitty treatment and shitty colleagues.
The film’s unflinching mockery of a bizarre profession shares some energy with that of Theater Camp (2023) or Best in Show (2000), taking great fun in showcasing many of the characters’ vanity, spinelessness, and two-faced maneuvering. The character who lands under this scrutiny most often is Jacob, a cowardly weasel unless he can use his authority for personal gain. Donovan’s performance as Jacob is intentionally that of a wet blanket, although that doesn’t always translate in the most interesting performance, as he’s often blown off the screen by the two leads. His callousness is often depicted as passive aggressive, with the movie’s journey coming though the lens of Laura and her increasing intolerance of this treatment.
If there is anything working against Your Monster, is that it’s subtext has been a point of popular messaging for many filmmakers in recent memory. We’ve seen the embattled and wronged young woman begin her story at her lowest of lows, who must slowly ascend back to a healthy level of sanity and self-respect as she grows a backbone and starts to admit just how cruel her estranged love really is. Your Monster has plenty of these moments, including one exclamation point of an ending. Some of these instances are cathartic, and others are a little belabored. When Laura begins to loudly yell her frustrations at her ex, with only the monster there to witness her awakening, we’re meant to feel the scene’s earnestness, but come away feeling like the moment is a bit too on the nose.
Perhaps that’s the double-edged sword you flirt with in a film such as this. Your Monster occupies the cynical space of the modern day, but the film and Lindy yearn for a more sincere era of moviemaking, where you could buy into characters wearing their emotions on their sleeves. In that vein, audiences should appreciate the movie’s unwavering display of what the characters are feeling – there are too many flicks that feel like their too cool to truly emote. However, the tradeoff is that not every emotive beat lands here, and many of the scenes just go on too long, but what Your Monster ultimately accomplishes is getting you to care in spite of all that. Care about a potential cancer survival who just wants to act and sing. Care about a parody of a creature that feels like a cross between the Beast from… well, Beauty and the Beast, and the Geico cavemen. They’re good people, even if sometimes they have to do some bad things, but that’s what makes their story worth telling.
