Flying Monkeys

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Flying Monkeys, huh? What on earth could that be about?

Cute. I happen to like movies where the title tells you everything you need to know. Like Love Story and Runaway Train. Or Ninety-Six Minutes of Titties. Here, we go in expecting flying monkeys, and dammit all, that’s what we get. A whole lot of them, in fact. Precious little else, thankfully.

 

So you’re easily amused…What else is new? But a Google search tells me the story concerns a foreign-born monkey using its smile and charm to fool the public and invade Kansas, taking away its guns. What is this, another documentary from Dinesh D’Souza?

Sadly, no. But there is a cute little monkey named Skippy, and he’s happily enjoying life in China before being stolen by an exotic animal salesman. It seems the monkey is destined for life in a Wichita, Kansas pet store, where there’s a strong market for endangered species from Asia. Little does the salesman know, little Skippy just happens to be one of two remaining “Seego” monkeys, ancient demons created by the emperor to, well, kill everyone Mao happened to leave alive. When the clock strikes midnight, the monkeys transform into winged creatures of hellish torment, biting and eating everything they can until sunrise returns them to a cuddly state. Furthermore, they cannot be killed by any weapon other than those blessed by the elders, which is convenient for our Chinese heroes, who emerge from the countryside with the perfect blend of spot-on American accents and righteous indignation. They will eventually arrive in Kansas to help kill the monkey army. Just like Glenn Beck said they would.

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Hold up, man, you skipped a lot of shit there. Back it up and start again.

Before the monkeys attack, we meet Joan, our virginal hero who just happens to be the one blond chick in all of middle America not to have sucked dick by junior high school. She’s sad because her mother died recently, and her father works way too much, doing that bad dad thing of keeping the lights on. The bastard is even late for her graduation, a formidable class of corn-fed intellects that includes a black girl (who is never seen again), a dopey horn-dog (who dies first), and a Latina (who we see in the shower and is the town slut by a factor of twenty). But for a town of 5,124 souls, there’s not an unattractive man, woman, or child in the bunch, which is so, so typical of Kansas. After these introductions, we return to the Asian cargo plane that has landed in Wichita, bringing Rudy the pet store owner his prized booty. Only every animal on board, save the monkey, is dead. As is the co-pilot, who was introduced to us with a monologue so jumbled you’d swear it wasn’t English. Because I like my Asian characters speaking American, thank you very much.

 

Rudy the pet store guy is a rotten dude. I mean, he never stops screaming and pulling out his gun. What’s his problem?

He’s bald, first of all, so he’s inherently evil by the rules of cinema. But he’s also from Kansas, and in a turn I never envisioned, Flying Monkeys became a vicious, unwavering commentary on the American obsession with firearms. First of all, the Chinese heroes make several disparaging remarks on our sad preoccupation. “What is with these folks and their guns?” they cry. Oh, and the monkeys actually reproduce after being shot. So guns make the problem worse! Genius. So the SyFy Channel is now MSNBC.

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Fine, fine, but how does Skippy the monkey get loose to begin with?

Joan’s father, feeling guilty, buys the monkey for his daughter as a pet. It’s a great idea, as Skippy is extremely cute, but little does anyone know, he’s sneaking out at night to kill every neighboring farmer and farm animal. The first victim is Jason, the guy who tried to kiss Joan the day before, only to be rebuffed by her Christian virtue. Disgusted by a farm girl who doesn’t put out, Jason walks over to the home of Chastity, who believes in anything but. Almost naked, they are attacked and sliced to ribbons by Skippy in demon form. The house now resembling the Clutter farm after Dick and Perry stopped by for tea, the locals naturally suspect coyotes.

 

You make an interesting case for the anti-gun angle, but so far, this sounds like yet another conservative screed where sex leads to death.

I thought so, too. I mean, the hero of the piece is a virgin? Sure, she has legs for days and great tits, but she’s pure as the Kansas soil. I was all ready to declare this a right-wing hit job, especially when the sheriff roared, apropos of nothing, “This ain’t Africa!” Obama raping the innocent, and all that. But to a man, every single person who fires a gun in this movie is an idiot. Sweaty, stupid, and willing to shoot before the questions, if you get my drift. The bald asshole at the pet shop even screams, “I got every right to put you down where you stand!” when the Chinese hunters break down his door and ask about the monkey. Cue ball, meet George Zimmerman. And as I said, shooting the flying monkeys creates even more flying monkeys. A paranoid farmer in overalls pulls out Old Blue, his prized shotgun, and is ripped in half. Some dipshit – the second dude to try and get in Joan’s pants and fail – shoots a monkey and throws it in an ice chest, only to be separated from his skin and entrails inside of three seconds. The perverted owner of the gas station, the same guy who lusted for the passing high school girls, tries to fire a gun and is picked apart like roadkill. Guns don’t protect shit in this here Kansas town.

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Okay, fine, I get it. But did I hear that right? Some Mexican chick gets naked in a shower?

This is was a made-for-TV movie, so no nudity. Sure, sweet little Sonya strips down to her bra and panties, squeezes her tits together in front of the mirror, and gets all seductive while washing her hair, but the censors win this battle. I’m guessing because seeing perky boobs might harm the kids, while seeing an old man that looks like grandpa slashed and torn while begging for his life is just what the doctor ordered for a sound night’s sleep. But Sonya is attacked in the shower, which is pretty cool, because she’s forced to run down the street all wet and glistening and lovely, clad in nothing more than a towel. Shockingly, the whore survives. But come to think of it, her slutty ways were always implied. Hell, she never even kissed a boy. Clever girl.

 

So these mystics who have the magic sword and shit…I take it they kill the monkeys?

After threatening the pet store owner, they locate Skippy. He must be killed first, as he is the oldest, and his death will cause every other monkey to drop from the sky. First, though, a pizza delivery dude is lifted off his bike and reduced to gnawed bone, while a security guard is swallowed whole and regurgitated as raw sewage. But the sugar mill is where the last stand will take place, and the sky is teeming with the CGI beasts before we know it. The Chinese woman is killed, but she and her comrades manage to take out most of the little buggers. Skippy, however, escapes, and quickly returns to Joan’s house. Her father, previously passive and uncertain, now stands his ground. “Get off my porch,” he bellows, right before putting an arrow in Skippy’s heart. He dies, they die, and Kansas is at last cleansed of the scourge. “No more monkey business,” Joan sighs, as dad laughs it up.

 

She did not.

She did.

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But half the town has been killed, including the sheriff, mortician, and funeral director. I mean, who’s going to bury all these fucks?

Hence the one black character.

 

Racism? In 2013?

Um, yeah, Kansas.

 

But did you learn anything?

If you utter, “What’s going on back there?” you have less than ten seconds to live.

 

And?

Confucious say, “He who lazy at screenwriting, name Chinese man Wang.”

About Matt

Matt is the site’s Longest Serving Critic and chief misanthrope. He divides his time between classics of cinema and the most ridiculous movies he can find on Redbox.
Follow Matt: @mattcale52