Everyone has a proverbial monster in their closet, a creature that represents our innermost quandaries and most closely guarded secrets, which we keep hidden away from prying eyes as much as possible. In the case of Your Monster, this concept becomes quite literal, with director Caroline Lindy (adapting her own short film of the same title) telling the story of a young woman who has recently overcome her battle with cancer, but at the expense of losing her boyfriend, who broke up with her while she was undergoing treatment, with his departure also signalling an end to their professional collaboration, as they were working on a musical in which the protagonist was set to play the leading role. However, while meandering around her childhood home, she discovers that she is sharing it with an unexpected resident – a grotesque monster that has been living in her closet for years, and who has now essentially taken ownership of the home, with her presence now being viewed as an inconvenience for the oddly pernickety beast, who wants her to vacate the property as soon as possible. Yet, this odd couple soon discovers that they have more in common than they initially thought, and they even manage to fall in love in the process when it becomes clear that there is an enormous amount of compatibility between them. A wonderfully deranged but also deeply meaningful dark comedy in which Lindy proves herself to be quite a fascinating directorial voice, Your Monster is quite an achievement, even if it appears to be quite conventional on the surface. Hilariously irreverent but not vacant when it comes to some of its thematic content, the film manages to be a wonderfully expressive examination of several profound ideas, all of which are seamlessly woven into the fabric of a story that will likely surprise a lot of viewers with its depth, nuance and intricacy, none of which seem to be present at the outset, but gradually reveal themselves as this delightful film progresses.

Your Monster wastes very little time as far as establishing the story and its thematic framework is concerned – the first scene is a rapid-fire montage in which the protagonist, physically depleted and psychologically defeated, is discharged from hospital, with only her loose cannon of a best friend to accompany her, and months of grief and despair, knowing that she’s re-entering the world as a woman in remission from her disease, but now confronted with the fact that she has to essentially restart her life, a daunting process for anyone, but even moreso for someone who has to now take stock of everything she has in the aftermath of losing all she valued. The foundation of this film, beyond it being an off-the-wall blend of comedy, horror and romance, is that of trauma – whether or not the titular monster actually exists is entirely redundant as far as plot mechanics go, since there are far more complex ideas driving this story that make it extremely unique and daring in its own right. The foundation of the film is a young woman learning to love herself in the aftermath of being told that she is not only not enough, but an active burden in the life of someone she genuinely cares about, which is a harrowing experience. Some may think that Lindy is making too much of a point about how a broken relationship can negatively impact someone, but it’s genuinely quite extraordinary how much mileage this relatively thin premise can have when it is working at its peak, which we find does tend to occur consistently throughout. Part of the appeal of this film is how personal it feels – this isn’t striving to be the definitive word on any topic, but rather serving as something much more profound, drawn from what we can only assume is the director’s own personal experiences or at least reflections on what it means to navigate the modern romantic landscape. Having the trauma of the past manifest as a physical monster with which the protagonist falls in love is a daring proposition, but one that is nonetheless fascinating, serving as the core of a really terrific comedy that blurs the lines between different ideas and presents them in vivid detail.

For a few years, Melissa Barrera has steadily been working, developing into one of the most interesting actors of her generation, which may come as a surprise to those who did not initially find her earlier acting endeavours particularly impressive, a group that I unfortunately was a part of until I started to see just how talented she was, and how she managed to handle some very challenging films with extraordinary consistency. Your Monster is designed as a vehicle for her talents, and she is certainly up to the task of playing this challenging role, particularly since she can run the gamut of emotions throughout the film. Considered a contemporary scream queen, she’s made a solid career in several horror films, albeit all of her choices seem to be based around more offbeat films, rather than straightforward horror, which makes her an ideal candidate to lead this film, considering she is clearly not one for convention or tradition in any way. Her performance here is exceptional, and the camera clearly adores her- from the immense expressivity she is capable of portraying from the very start without even saying a word, to the final twenty minutes, which are as good of a showcase for any actor, we find that she’s doing extraordinary work with a brief that could have been much less effective in the hands of any other actor. There’s something truly captivating about her screen presence, and this film sets out to explain exactly what it is that makes her such a beguiling performer. Thomas Dewey is a worthwhile scene partner, playing the wisecracking monster who essentially becomes her salvation by giving her the strength she needs to keep going and rebel against the emotional torture that she has been experiencing. The pair have wonderful chemistry and bring out the very best in one another, making this film into an incredibly captivating character study, which is surprising considering how it appeared to be quite simple of a premise on the surface, but which proves to be just a red herring for something much deeper.

In the hands of someone less interested in these ideas, Your Monster would be hopelessly overwrought and perhaps one-dimensional, but it clearly is a subject that resonates with Lindy, as she employs quite an impressive series of techniques to bring this otherwise unorthodox story to life. Part of the appeal of this film comes in its balance of humour and melancholy – it may seem like it will be wall-to-wall comedy, and in many ways the moments of humour are most notable from a distance. However, it’s when the film gradually becomes serious, and the novelty of the premise wears off and is instead replaced with something much deeper, that we find the story truly becomes elevated. The director moves deftly between different moods, shifting the tone to match the intentions of a particular scene, which is a fascinating approach that we can all appreciate in one way or another, even if it can sometimes feel like she is being slightly too audacious with a story that perhaps may have worked better had it elided a few scenes that don’t serve much purpose other than to pad an already slightly overlong film. There comes a turning point in the film where it becomes unexpectedly profound, which is essentially the entirety of the third act, in which the film leans into its existential roots, becoming deeply unnerving while also capturing a sense of incredible beauty in places that we may not have anticipated. The refusal to surrender to the one-dimensional archetypes, and the constant willingness to push the envelope, elevates Your Monster to be far more captivating than we’d expect based on a glance, and while its ideas are not always as well-developed as we may have perhaps hoped, there’s a sense of wonderful eccentricity that drives this story and makes it so beautifully poetic, even in the areas that could have done with slightly more work, particularly in chipping away at some of the more unnecessary elements that don’t contribute much to the narrative.

Your Monster is Lindy’s feature-length directorial debut, and like any early work, it has some elements that are not entirely consistent, with the usual growing pains associated with debuts. Yet, its ambition almost entirely eclipses these flaws, making it a far more compelling work in practice than we may expect based on a cursory glance. Its audacity is one of its primary merits, and we discover that there is a lot of complexity behind this film, which is a much more elegant affair than we may have initially given it credit for, based on how it was promoted and its overarching premise. Elegant to a fault, but consistent in how it constructs quite a charming story of humanity and how it functions in relation to relationships and the bonds we form with each other and our own psychological state, Your Monster is a true gem, and one that will take many viewers by surprise based on its depth, nuance and consistent attention to detail, all of which serves as the foundation for something truly captivating, even when it is clearly a debut for someone who seems primed to become an essential voice in an industry that has somehow begun to ignore originality and everything that it represents. A cutthroat blend of genres, and one that masters them all incredibly well, the film is a wonderful piece of experimental comedy that never abates from its fundamental premise, and instead chooses to be genuinely quite compelling, even at its most predictable. Lindy has an incredible future ahead of her if this debut is anything to go by, and she sets a strong precedent for cinema that can be daring as well as wickedly entertaining, a combination that truly makes this film feel so much richer and more evocative than anyone could have anticipated.