Flying Monkey

Sam Lawrence’s short drama Flying Monkey focuses on a troubling and toxic relationship between a man and woman – with an uncertain twist raising intriguing questions whilst the police close in.

On a video call with a detective (Sheraz Yousef), Connor (Andrew Cockcroft-Charles) finds himself on the end of questions about his missing girlfriend Alice (Saffron Dey). Alice has a troubled past and there are a lot of lines of enquiry, but Connor has a secret: He knows exactly where she is. Though as his partner hides out at his place, he begins to realise that his own understanding might not be all it seems as well.

A ‘Flying Monkey’, as the film explains, is ‘an unwitting enabler of a highly narcissistic person’. This film’s strength is that it leaves open the question of who exactly the flying monkey and who the wicked witch really is. The strange, unnerving unreality of the film adds intrigue to its short plot, though its lack of clarity harms any greater points it tries to make about manipulation or domestic abuse. Lawrence’s writing enjoys this dynamic, but the film does not necessarily benefit from it as a story.

The opening half of the film is told largely through video calls – an echo of the covid era of indie filmmaking. Andrew Cockcroft-Charles and Sheraz Yousef do their best in these sequences, but there is an inherent awkwardness that comes about from the actors not being in the same room and able to play off each other. Yousef’s Detective John Collet’s questioning feels overreaching and forced, and the flow of the conversation that leads to Connor’s breakdown lacks authenticity and never feels natural. It also feels unlikely that such a conversation would be conducted over video call – which raises the question of why this scene was shot and structured in such a way. It may have been through necessity, or it may have been to stage the twist reveal of Alice, but it doesn’t really serve the story’s best interests.

The ’flying monkey’ of the film is left open to interpretation. It is clear that Connor is something of a narcissist, but the double nature of his relationship with Alice – in both past and present – holds greater intrigue. This twist of the narrative is the film’s strongest point, and viewers will be engaged with the lucid area the story occupies. However, the briefness of the story works against it when trying to ponder more what the twist really means. The film feels like a snapshot of a full story, only there is currently no more story to tell.

Flying Monkey wades into some interesting areas and kindles some interesting questions, but never really delivers on them. When coupled with an awkward framing of the first half which is conducted on video call, it leaves the film feeling largely underwhelming. The cast show potential, and Sam Lawrence’s ability to frame the twist helps salvage things, but this monkey never truly gets off the ground.