The nightmare always starts the same way. The church crumbles. The wind howls. Debris flies in from every direction, then the ground opens up and swallows the church whole. Conor struggles to hang on to his mother as she dangles off the side of the newly formed sinkhole, her hand slipping away from his as he cries and grips her harder. Conor always wakes up just before the moment of her descent into the dark hole, but sadly, his real life doesn’t always offer up such mercy.
Conor’s mom is suffering from terminal cancer, and without his dad in the picture, and his grandmother a little too eager to butt her judgmental nose in, it seems like there’s no one who can help them now. That is, until Conor unknowingly calls on a monster. Standing forty feet high and built from head to toe in thousand-year-old tree bark, the monster tells Conor with a fiery growl that he’s come for him – but not to crush him beneath his giant feet. On the contrary, he’s come to tell him stories, and the only thing that he seeks from Conor in return is the truth.
A Monster Calls is a wholly heartfelt and spellbinding fairytale about the perils of growing up and the reality of dealing with grief. Its very honest message about accepting the inevitable doesn’t try to comfort its audience with little white lies in order to make its tragedy easier to deal with. Instead, it attempts to ease the burden of loss by merely stating that sometimes life is just plain unfair, without reason, and it’s okay to be upset about that.
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While some movies dealing with the similar premise of a loved one undergoing a terminal illness may come across as gimmicky or undeserving of the tears it elicits, A Monster Calls feels like it’s coming from a very genuine place. Carefully crafted by The Orphanage’s J.A. Bayona, both of his films about grief feel utterly authentic and purely intended. For his latest endeavor, Bayona’s molded a powerful movie that is absolutely devastating, yet cathartic, as it provides a sort of guide for dealing with trauma, all while maintaining the playful atmosphere of a little boy wrapped up in an exciting fable.
The cast is so strong and all work so well together that they really help to deliver that emotional punch, putting the finishing touches on an already powerful story. Lewis MacDougall is a force to be reckoned with, as he comes bursting onto the scene with a performance so raw and deeply layered that it would be impressive even for an experienced actor twice his age. Felicity Jones, despite her young age, is surprisingly effective as the ailing single mother, trying to appear happy and well for the sake of her son. When it comes to Sigourney Weaver as the grandmother, honestly, it’s just nice to see her do a straightforward dramatic role in a genre film; an area where her presence in recent years has come to represent more of a nod to the past than what she’s actually capable of playing — a necessary addition to a telling tale. And of course, the monster wouldn’t be the same without the wisdom-filled and strangely comforting booming voice of Liam Neeson.
Together, all of the elements of this magical coming of age story about life and death and acceptance create a movie that is just as moving as it is unforgettable. This fairytale may be slightly more tailored to an older crowd, but it speaks to the child in all of us, and reminds us that when reality becomes too dire to deal with, there’s always storybooks to turn to, and monsters to call on for help.