Starring Dev Patel, Sikandar Kher

Directed by Dev Patel

Monkeypaw Productions / Universal Studios – in cinemas now

A bare-knuckle fighter embarks on a crusade of bloody revenge for the murder of his mother.

It would be perfectly reasonable to describe Dev Patel’s directorial debut simply as an action revenge thriller, barely qualifying as an SFB genre movie at all.

However, one could also describe it as a breathless, non-stop, visceral, head-banging, ultra-violent, blood-soaked, pugilistic orgy, arriving on our screens by way of John Wick, Bollywood, Hong Kong; by way of the late Tony Scott with Essence de Walter Hill; by way of Hindu myth, the Mahabharata and even a soupçon of Karate Kid for good measure.

The story is very simple. It has very little dialogue, with a fable-like, occasionally hallucinogenic quality. There’s not much humour – aside from the comedy fixer, Alphonso (sharply portrayed by the excellent Pitobash) and his trusty turbo-charged tuk-tuk.

This is a very good-looking film indeed. The colour palette is turned up to eleven – which could be filed under ‘sweat-infused luminous umber’ – if such a classification existed. Well, it does now. Rarely has suffocating humidity, and grubby perspiration seemed so lustrous. I cite Scott and Hill as directorial references, as the action and fighting, although influenced by the Hong Kong school, is grounded and blissfully free of slow motion, with very little wire work. This is violence that looks like it hurts. I came out of the cinema feeling that I had been personally beaten up, rather than just watching pugilistic choreography.

The relentless pace – the camera always in close – makes this a brilliantly immersive experience. There is, perhaps, a debate to be had about the voyeuristic nature of the violence. Do we really need to linger on Patel’s blood-hungry rage as much as we do? My answer would be yes. That’s what the film is about, and I respected it for refusing to soften its more abrasive edges. There are also clearly references to Hindu culture and Indian politics which were above my paygrade but in no way a barrier to dousing myself in the movie’s excesses.

The film rarely pauses for breath, but when it does there are some beautiful sequences, including one of the most imaginative training montages I’ve seen in a long while, where Zakir Hussain, a renowned Indian table maestro, plays a sort of percussive Mr Miyagi to Patel in his quest to achieve fighting prowess.

Kudos to Patel – openly channeling Keanu’s John Wick – but taking it to somewhere that absolutely belongs to him alone. He is the rock-solid centre of this film, and I couldn’t help smiling, remembering the skinny little kid, sixteen years ago, running butt naked into the freezing sea in the second season of the TV series Skins. Of all that gang, Patel’s development as an actor and creative force impresses me the most.

Verdict: I loved Monkey Man – although I’m fully aware it won’t be to everyone’s taste. I’m also very excited to see what Patel does next. I’d look forward to seeing him take on something more thoughtful and actor centred, but Monkey Man will do very nicely for now. 9/10

Martin Jameson

www.ninjamarmoset.com