Review: Your Monster

Director:  Caroline Lindy

Stars:  Melissa Barrera, Tommy Dewey, Edmund Donovan

So here’s the thing. Melissa Barrera was born for Your Monster. The Bed Rest, Scream and Abigail star may have carved out a devoted following in horror circles – only strengthened by her obnoxious treatment at the hands of Spyglass Media Group – but that’s only one side of the multitalented actor. Her notable work singing and dancing in the likes of In the Heights and Carmen flesh out the story further. Barrera is a board-treading musical star who kinda happened to find a home in the horror genre. Caroline Lindy’s quirky feature debut delights in mixing together elements from both spectrums, with Barrera twirling – or more commonly twirled – in the middle.

Laura Franco (Barrera) is down on her luck. Having survived her cancer year, she’s been ditched by her no-good boyfriend Jacob (Edmund Donovan), leaving her heartbroken and – as importantly – torn asunder from her creative partner. Now Jacob is launching their co-written Broadway musical ‘House of Good Women’ without her. Still struggling from surgery, Laura persists in following her dream – and her ex – by auditioning for the show, only to find herself understudy to TV starlet Jackie Dennon (Meghann Fahy).

Oh, and there’s a monster in her closet.

Yeah, you read that right. Laura’s staying in her mother’s NY townhouse, and discovers that the monster that terrified her as a child is real, and still lives in the building. The nameless Monster (Tommy Dewey) is the kind of affable beast who’ll greet a screaming woman with a louche “What’s up?”. He’s a nice guy. An affable Bo Burnham type. But he wants the place to himself. He gives Laura two weeks.

But you know what? They bond. Catalogued via an improv montage of petty microaggressions that probably seemed a lot cuter than it is (just like a Bo Burnham special, actually), flirtatious food-fights and some sincere Shakespeare recitals, Lindy does a decent job of selling Your Monster as a romcom first and foremost, albeit one with a fantasist’s twist. Laura tears up at Stanley Donen’s Royal Wedding, bemoaning that they just don’t make movies like it anymore. This would appear to be Lindy’s stance, too, and her kooky mixture is a mostly charming, eminently enjoyable attempt to redress that balance, one more interested in courting the theatre kids in the audience than the horror hounds.

That’s fine, because taken on those terms, its a good if often predictable ride, one keen and eager to point out the hypocrisies and narcissism found behind the scenes on Broadway. Chiefly, Jacob is an absolute shit, sleeping with whichever muse will validate him while making eye-rolling speeches about the power of women. Lindy makes him too-good a target for taking down, then takes to it merrily.

Just when it feels like the more fantastic side of the story is an unnecessary confection, Lindy swings the pendulum back. Laura’s literal journey into the closet reveals the Monster’s lair which has a fittingly ‘backstage’ aesthetic, mirror to the theatrical temperament of the remainder of the picture. The movie’s centrepiece might be the pair’s dance together at the company’s Halloween party. Laura dressed as Bride of Frankenstein. Monster as, well, you’ll see. Or it may be Laura letting loose at Jacob in a cathartic tirade that Barrera absolutely owns.

Actually, the most impressive element might be the decision, ultimately, not to pit Laura and Jackie against one another, but to unite them against Jacob. While, elsewhere, the film’s final revelation confirms – pleasingly – that Your Monster is ultimately concerned with a woman (re)connecting with her own inner beast in an effort to reclaim her self-respect. When in the midst of any of these moments, Your Monster feels airborne. It sails.

This isn’t a mode it wholly exists in, however, and part of making ’em like they used to is adhering to a fairly predictable playbook, even if one of your key players looks like he sprang from a live action Disney adaptation. Lindy throws a lot of pluck and gumption at the screen. Enough to call her more than credible. But she’s not quite Stanley Donen just yet. Nevertheless there’s plenty to like here and, for theatre kids who’ve already exhausted their goes at Wicked in the past week, this is an attractive, (mostly) grounded, more knowing alternative, one worth digging through the cinema listings to find.

And Barrera remains unbeatable.