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It starts out with a tiring flood of self-indulgent surrealism, but eventually Monkeybone actually tickles the funnybone.
By STEVE PERSALL
© St. Petersburg Times, published February 22, 2001
When a movie goes bad, it's usually terminal. There isn't much chance of recovery after a savvy viewer catches the odor of a dying idea.
Monkeybone is different, a bad movie that actually gets better as it goes along. That is, when it moves beyond regurgitating weirdness from Beetlejuice, Mars Attacks! -- heck, any Tim Burton movie -- and the first two films from Burton's disciple Henry Selick: The Nightmare Before Christmas and James and the Giant Peach.
Selick has a one-track mind, although it veers in strange directions. The first hour of Monkeybone allows him to get that stuff out of his system, a visual barrage of odd creature-puppets, computer fantasy and old-fashioned hand-drawn animation. How many walking eyeballs can you watch before the novelty wears off? Selick always offers a few more mutants than needed, just because tinkering with latex and keyboards is fun.
Flesh-and-blood actors get their due in the final half-hour of Monkeybone. Humanity is a relief.
Until then, cartoonist Stu Miley (Brendan Fraser) has been moping about fame until he slips into a coma after a car wreck. He's transported by rollercoaster to an afterlife way station called Down Town. The place was called Dark Town in Kaja Blackley's graphic novel, but that sounds too much like Dark City, another overdone head trip.
Stu gets shoved around by strange monsters, Death (Whoopi Goldberg) and his own nightmares depicted in vivid monochrome with captivating camera swirls. Fraser has little to do except act incredulous. Other co-stars remain in the real world either grieving (Bridget Fonda) or scheming (Dave Foley, Megan Mullally). Stu's sidekick is his cartoon creation, Monkeybone, a hyperactive primate serving as the artist's id.
Monkeybone isn't a particularly memorable character, but his rambunctious nature sets up the more satisfying final act when Stu returns to Earth. Don't ask how or why, but he's possessed by Monkeybone's spirit, leading to some frisky moments for Fraser. His lunkheaded charisma finally gets a chance to shine.
Stu's spirit gets dumped into an organ donor's corpse, a terrific performance by Saturday Night Live's Chris Kattan. It's a role defying a concise description, culminating in a grisly chase sequence earning laughs and gasps. No puppets or toons, just a marvelous display of physical comedy with real people.
Everyone gets better as Selick's surrealism fades. Fonda establishes genuine sympathy dealing with her lover's new attitude. Foley goes pleasantly loony while Mullally's vague role is suitably ignored. Monkeybone makes its own technical expertise obsolete with simple, daffy comedy.
The first 15 minutes of Selick's movie can make a viewer give up. Everything real is flatter than a comic book to make the upcoming gizmos look impressive. Jokes fail, characters annoy. Down Town is temporarily fascinating, then we want to leave even more than Stu does. Flashes of inspiration keep us interested, including Rose McGowan's pussycat femme fatale and a genius cameo by author Stephen King.
Selick's film is strange enough to become a cult favorite despite its ragged execution. Being weird can cover up a lot of mistakes if you forgive enough. Monkeybone is my guiltiest pleasure of 2001, so far.
Grade: C+
Director: Henry Selick
Cast: Brendan Fraser, Bridget Fonda, Rose McGowan, Giancarlo Esposito, Chris Kattan, Dave Foley, Whoopi Goldberg, Megan Mullally
Screenplay: Sam Hamm, based on the graphic novel Dark Town by Kaja Blackley
Rating: PG-13; sexual situations, profanity, violence
Running time: 94 min.