A tall tale of monsters and painful truths.

Life is tough. Granted, that's not the most uplifting of opening sentences in the world but there we go. While there's much beauty out there in the world, facing down life’s harsh realities is all part of the growing process. Digging down deep to absorb reality, to deal with life and loss, is simply part of the human experience. To escape and reconcile life's harsh realities, however, a little fantasy often goes a long way. Stories have been the easiest and most convenient form of escape for humans since the very beginning; possessing the power to remove one to another place and to filter complex truths through far more digestible means.

For those young enough that grief and loss are far more abstract concepts, it can be a bewildering experience when they crash-land in your formative years. Adolescence is a daunting experience at the best of times, but to fold in the potential horrors of the external, adult world and you can clearly see why a fictionalised existence is necessary. Escape has been a recurring motif in classic children’s literature for years, creating high-concept worlds of joy and creeping darkness in the process. Whether its an Oz, Wonderland, or chocolate factory, young minds need artificial constructs to filter the truths of a dark, chaotic adult world through.

As A Monster Calls opens to a young boy’s life quite literally imploding, this is precisely where we find our young protagonist. As gravestones crumble to nothing, we're thrown head-first into one young man's truth that holds the harsh realities of the world around him, but one he cannot find on his own.

Dealing with his mother's (Felicity Jones) life-threatening illness, a less-than-sympathetic grandmother (Sigourney Weaver), and bullying classmates, 12-year-old Conor O'Malley (Lewis MacDougall) finds an unlikely ally when a Monster (Liam Neeson) appears at his bedroom window. Ancient, wild, and relentless; the Monster demands that Conor listen to his tales as he guides him on a journey of truth and courage. Wracked with guilt and anger, Conor regresses further and further into a fantasy world, but in these monstrous tales, Conor is gradually able to process this impending tragedy and the truth in the world around him.

From the surrealist spirituality of Spirited Away, to the wondrous brutality of Pan’s Labyrinth, weaving together the contrasting worlds of heightened fantasy and stark reality is nothing new but, if done right, it can be highly effective. Where Pan’s Labyrinth’s Ofelia delves into her fantasy underworld of fauns and fairies as a coping mechanism from Franco-era Spain, Conor utilises the Monster similarly. As the heart-breaking truth of his mother’s illness becomes increasingly real, so too does Conor’s Monster.

As a well-worn narrative trope, there is a very thin line in depicting deeply personal matters through a high fantasy filter, but A Monster Calls does so with an abundance of heart and a lightness of touch. The film is certainly heavy going, but it never feels weighted down by its emotional heft and, while the film risks exploiting its fantastical elements for cheap emotional gains, director J.A. Bayona’s ensures that this is never a problem.

The brutal way in which fact and fiction collide in A Monster Calls leads to the film's primary problem; one that may ultimate effect its reception with audiences. For all the film’s qualities, this is a film that feels lost between worlds. There's little hiding from the heaviness surrounding A Monster Calls and this weight of emotion and tone may cause it to struggle for an audience. With the ruminations on life, death, loss, and the acceptance of one’s fate, this is decidedly NOT a kid’s film and, therefore, serious considerations will need to be made before taking any younger children to see it. Whilst it’s important for young audiences to avoid shying from the film’s themes, the sheer heft of emotion that builds as the film hits its zenith in the third act, may be too much for small hearts to bear.

As blood, anger, and vengeance flow through the Monster’s graphic tales, this is a fairy-tale that pulls no punches and, as such, the film pulls itself further and further from the family audience that may have embraced it. Conversely, A Monster Calls may feel too child-like for some as the film’s marketing sells it as the kid-friendly fairy-tale it clearly. Like Conor himself, A Monster Calls appears trapped between childhood and adulthood and it’d be a real shame if it were to fail to find an audience because of it.

Creating empathy with such a destructive emotional force as Conor is a tough act but J.A. Bayona’s direction guarantees that we are made to care deeply for our protagonist as, even in his most hostile moments, our sympathies are firmly with him. Though surrounded by a fantastic cast, this is every bit Lewis MacDougall’s film as he turns in a performance of maturity that belies his tender years. Films with child protagonists can often descend into cuteness and over-sentimentality but Lewis MacDougall plays the balance just right and to hold your own alongside Sigourney Weaver and Liam Neeson takes some talent, so the fact that MacDougall manages to do so with ease promises big things in the young actor’s future.

While the central performance is a strong one and propped up by some fantastic support, what really elevates A Monster Calls Bayona its visual style. While cherry-picking elements from Guillermo del Toro and Tim Burton' baroque gothic fantasy, the film possesses a subtle confidence in a style that’s entirely of its own making. Much like Pan’s Labyrinth, A Monster Calls strikes a deft balance between reality and fantasy, fading in and out of Conor’s fantastical visitations like a fever dream, while keeping its roots firmly planted in normality. The film is not only self-assured enough to swing effortlessly between Conor’s two worlds, but it ensures that each moment of fantasy holds a distinctive visual flair. As we travel deeper into Conor's fantasy world and the Monster's tales begin to manifest themselves through some superbly realised animation, the film really begins to find it's voice visually and, while A Monster Calls lacks the stylistic punch of a Pan’s Labyrinth or an Edward Scissorhands, Bayona has crafted a look all of his own.

The Monster himself is rendered superbly and, thanks to some great motion capture work from Liam Neeson, we are presented with a creature every bit as charismatic and mysterious as the Faun in Pan's Labyrinth. All sinewy branches and fiery eyes, this is clearly not a creature of fairy-tale benevolence, but a violent manifestation of Conor’s fraught mindset. Whilst the Monster’s father figure status initially acts as on a cathartic level for Conor, it become increasingly clear that their relationship is far darker than that. This is not a creature of hugs and appeasement, but a something born of demons, guilt, and painful truths.

With a standout performance from its young lead, A Monster Calls is a superb piece of low-key fantasy; delivering thrills, warmth, and tears in droves. Director J.A. Bayona and writer Patrick Ness deliver a touching coming-of-age drama that skilfully balances its dark themes with a high-fantasy. Beautifully deploying its fantasy elements as a form of escapism for its young protagonist, A Monster Calls pulls elements from twisted fairy-tale luminaries like Guillermo del Toro and Tim Burton; finding its very own style and voice in the process. Part Studio Ghibli, part Pan's Labyrinth, A Monster Calls operates on levels rarely seen in modern fantasy cinema and, as a film about ultimate truths, will leave you contemplating your very own, long after leaving the theatre.