A MONSTER CALLS: A Deeply Personal Testament To The Power of Fiction

When I walked out of the theater for A Monster Calls, I was an inconsolable, uncontrollable mess. And this wasn’t just a light spattering of tears flowing down my cheeks; this was some ugly, baby-in-a-temper-tantrum crying. I can only imagine the expressions on the faces of the concession stand workers as I walked by them, witnessing a grown man bawling his eyes out as he walks out of a kid’s movie.

As I walked to my car, though, I started to wonder: just what was it about this film that had me so upset? It’s a sad film for sure, tugging at the heartstrings in just the right ways, but still: why this movie? Over the years, I’ve created an infamous reputation as someone who never cries. Even during the saddest of film moments, such as the ending of Arrival, I didn’t feel anything more than the idea of grief, in that I understood the emotion on paper, but never felt it as a physical manifestation.

Then what should have been distinctly obvious hit me: my mom. In August of 2015, my mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer. As someone living an extremely healthy lifestyle, it came out of nowhere, and took all of us by shock. As I watched her lose her hair, and in a weakened state on my parents’ couch when I would go to visit, I still didn’t feel anything. I saw my aunt, my grandma, and my siblings overcome by grief, and still, nothing. It’s not that I’m heartless, I just didn’t think of it as more than a passing phase. Of course my mom would get better and we would put this whole silly mess behind us.

Before I get ahead of myself, I’d just like to say that my mom is now doing much better. She’s been in remission for some months, her hair is completely grown back, and her spirits, though never truly dampened even at the worst of her treatments, are at their usual high. So then why did A Monster Calls still get to me? After all, the film, which deals with a mother also suffering from what could be cancer (although never explicitly stated) ends on a much sadder note than my own personal experience.

It’s said that all truly great art is a manifestation of truth. Though films have the capacity for wild, dreamy fantasies, and much of them do, it’s the humanistic themes at the center of them that make the great ones stand out.

It’s also said that great art comes from somewhere personal, and in focusing on the universality of human emotion, can affect others in much the same way. Though movies and other works of fiction are very much an escape, and especially have been so in my own experience, they still have the capacity to unleash real emotions, even from those who don’t usually allow themselves to feel them. It’s fiction unleashing reality. It happened to me at the end of Six Feet Under when, only a few months previously, my great-uncle had died. And now, seeing a fictional character come to their demise made me feel much the same way.

When I saw the most poignant part of A Monster Calls, it unleashed that floodgate of emotions that I should have been feeling all along: the grief, angst, and fears that I had repressed were suddenly and painfully clear. And though overcome with it, I was also, in some strange way, relieved that they were there in the first place. It’s movies like A Monster Calls that make me ever grateful for the wonderful art that is film.

On to the Story

On to the review, though. This was something I felt the need to express, since the personal aspects of A Monster Calls are a huge portion of why I adored it in the way that I did. At any rate, thanks for staying with me.

A Monster Calls is about a young boy named Conor O’Malley (Lewis MacDougall). At the age of only 12, he is currently dealing with something that no pre-adolescent boy should ever have to: his mother (played by Felicity Jones) has a terminal disease. Conor was raised solely by her, with his father (Toby Kebbell) having left them when he was younger. So now, due to the fact that his mother doesn’t have much time left, Conor now has to contemplate what it will be like without her, and in addition, that he will have to live with his disdainful grandmother (played by Sigourney Weaver).

Conor is a boy with more on his plate than any grown adult should handle, let alone a child. So, he dreams up (or does he?) a giant monster to reluctantly help him along. Breaking into his bedroom one night, the monster (voiced by Liam Neeson) tells Conor that he will explain three stories to him, and Conor will have to read him one of his own before their business is concluded.

Darker Themes with a Light Undertone

The film, though with the looming theme of death as its focus, is often delightfully buoyant as well. The highlights of it come when the monster reads each of the stories to Conor, and he sees them come to life as exquisite water color paintings. These sequences, though short, are vibrant, colorful creations, the types of paintings that would stem directly from the imagination of a talented child artist. In addition, though sometimes explicitly stated, the deeper meanings of each story become clearer as the film goes on, circling back on itself to great effect.

Art as a theme for understanding is very much the focus of A Monster Calls. Conor uses his love for painting and drawing as a means to escape, and it is thought that this is where he came up with the idea for the monster in the first place. It is thankfully never stated whether the monster itself is real, and much like the similarly dark fantasy Pan’s Labyrinth, it’s up to your individual interpretation (although there are some scenes which seem to lend more credence to the idea that it is purely within his own head).

The Monster

It’s easy to tell that J.A. Bayona has a background in horror films, having directed the popular Spanish language ghost story The Orphanage back in 2007. Here, when the monster is first about to make an appearance, he comes onto the scene much like a monster or ghost would from a film that is more horror-themed – the room goes silent, pieces of furniture shake, and there is even a heartbeat vibration much like the impending threat of the T-Rex in Jurassic Park.

Once the monster comes into contact with Conor, though, there is a noticeable lull in the film. Though he is at first enticing when he enters Conor’s bedroom, with piercing red eyes and a booming voice (Liam Neeson also imbues every ounce of charisma he has into the character, who he not only voices but plays with motion capture). Yet, the stories that the monster almost immediately launches into, though alluring in appearance, also take away from potential bonding moments between him and Conor.

The film made me think back to the other popular monster movie from earlier this year, The BFG, which though overall a far less compelling work, at least had a more developed connection between the young girl and the giant. Here, the monster simply appears, and without much questioning as to who he is or how he got there, the two are expected to be immediate friends.

This missing factor, as with many adaptations, is likely as a result of the book being translated to the big screen. With not enough time to transfer every page, it’s clear that some dialogue had to be cut. I haven’t yet read Patrick Ness‘s original novel, though if it is simply this movie plus additional character interactions, I know that I’m immediately on board.

Human Characters

Lewis MacDougall, who plays Conor, has remarkably never acted before. Aptly conveying all the angst and frustrations of youth, in addition to the added stress of his current living situation, he is an indelible presence, and is truly the heart and soul of the film. Alongside him, portraying his mother Lizzie, is Felicity Jones, who though notably absent for much of the film (and significantly so), still manages to capture the heart-wrenching devastation of a mother who knows she will not be around to watch her son grow up.

The interaction that Lizzie has with Conor on a sick bed at the hospital is what triggered the above-mentioned downpour; though I won’t reveal what happens, just learn from my mistake: bring tissues! Not since The Fault in Our Stars have I witnessed an entire movie theater suddenly erupt into uncontrollable whimpering.

Sigourney Weaver also plays a memorable role in the film, portraying the mother of Felicity Jones‘ character. Though seemingly at odds with her grandson, the two eventually come to terms with what really matters in life.

Final Takeaway

A Monster Calls was never meant to be purely a kid’s film. Though originally appearing to much more closely resemble a Stephen Spielberg film like The BFG, it is ultimately much darker and more distressing than people might expect. The power of the film, though, lies in what made me bawl my eyes out in the first place: its humanity. The film stretches into the realms of imagination and dreams, yet it is very much grounded in the reality of life and loss.

The monster itself within the film serves as a manifestation of Conor’s grief, including his angst at soon losing his mother, his growing up without a strong father figure, the thoughts of having to spend the rest of his adolescent life with his ruthless grandmother, and to top it off, being a loner and bullied on by people at school. Think about it: what 12-year-old wouldn’t dream up their own life-sized tree monster to try to help them through such overwhelming unease?

A Monster Calls may be like a lot of fantasy-driven films out there, which serve not only to entertain kids but to express human emotions in an easier-to-handle way. It’s not an absolute masterpiece, but it’s done about as well as I could have expected or hoped for.

I’ll likely never forget the moment I walked out of the theater as inconsolable as I was. I wanted to simultaneously laugh, cry, yell, and destroy something (much like Conor does at one point in the film). It’s fiction that I usually use to escape from life, but it’s also fiction that helped me to face it in all its stark reality. And I am forever grateful to J.A. Bayona and Patrick Ness for granting me such an experience.

What did you think of A Monster Calls? What films have you seen that were deeply personal experiences?