The New Legends of Monkey - Review

If you were an Australian kid in the nineties, chances are you'll know exactly what I mean by Monkey Magic.

The cast of the fondly remembered

1978 original. 

It meant running home from school and parking i
n front of the TV to tune into a weird and wonderful show of magical clouds, women playing men, and lines that never quite synced with the actors' lips. Granted some of the translation decisions were questionable and most of the philosophical concepts went over our heads, but this campy Chinese production remains a warmly nostalgic memory among a certain age group in Australia and New Zealand.

So it was with great trepidation that I tuned into the 2018 Netflix-produced remake The New Legends of Monkey.

It already had a lot to live up to and the accusations of white-washing didn't fill me with confidence. I braced myself for disaster, crushed my expectations and kept one hand on the remote ready to abort.

Luciane Buchanan as Tripitaka.

Episode One was...fine. The CGI was rough in places, but it did a solid job of setting up Tripitaka (Luciane Buchanan) as our point-of-view character. It tipped a nod to the original series' gender-bender casting by telling the story of a young girl posing as a monk. One could even consider it a clever microcosm of the conundrum the modern show faces; having to step in and take the place of a more worthy predecessor (if so, they probably should have skipped that rather crushing "you're no one", but I digress).

Tripitaka is never more lovable than she is in this first episode. While later instalments often force her into the role of joyless moral heart, I adore the clever, resourceful young woman we're initially introduced to. As an orphan alone in the world she's frequently forced into demeaning roles, whether it's being treated as a servant in her own home or forced to work as a browbeaten waitress. Yet she survives where greater heroes fall. She thwarts the demons using guile, quick-thinking and whatever tools happen to fall into her grasp. And no, she's not above deceipt, theft or identity fraud.

Unfortunately, after this episode we meet the rest of the gang, and pretty much everything that's interesting about Tripitaka gets jettisoned in favor of "too good for this sinful Earth".

Chai Hansen as Monkey.

Still, what the writers take away with one hand, they give back with the other, because Episode Two is where we get to know Monkey and Sandy.

Monkey (Chai Hansen) is delightful; a young arrogant goofball of a god who doesn't know half as much as he thinks he does and is none-too-happy at the idea of taking orders from a "little boy monk". Much like the 1978 version, his main flaw is his ego. Yet this version has a vulnerability that the original didn't; less eternal jokester and more playful youth that never had to grow up. Between the self-centered boasting and instant-karma pratfalls, there are fleeting glimpses of a hurt, angry boy unable to understand what went wrong. It's a subtle difference that lends a more sympathetic context to the circumstances of his imprisonment.

Emilie Cocquerel as Sandy.

Sandy (Emilie Cocquerel) also manages to be much more likable this time round, being an entertainingly batty god rather than a former cannibal. And a woman, which could have gone badly if they'd turned her into a manic pixy dream girl (an outdated sexist trope we're all a little tired of), but fortunately they manage to sidestep it with a combination of good writing, acting and direction. If anything, her erratic mannerisms come off as unsettling and a troubling sign of the tragic backstory we'll learn more of down the road.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I should note that Episode Three was when I realised my hand had moved away from the remote control and I was really getting into the show. My worst fears were proving unfounded. The white-washing I'd dreaded wasn't there (or at least wasn't as bad as I'd been told), the show being set in a world with a richly varied population. Nor was there that sense of confusion that dragged down remakes like Being Human (USA) or Bionic Woman (2007). This was a show that knew exactly what it wanted to be and what to take from the source material to pay homage without being enslaved to it.

Josh Thompson as Pigsy.

Case in point; Pigsy. In the original show, he was a greedy lustful character who saw the error of his ways and joined Monkey on his holy quest. They got a lot of comedy mileage out of his creep-tastic pursuit of women, which was apparently funny back in the seventies. The new show focuses on the same idea of earthly pleasure, only rather having Pigsy (Josh Thompson) chasing after random hapless women, they explore it through his relationship with the powerful Princess Locke. In exchange for him working as her enforcer, she protected him from demons and kept him in a luxurious lifestyle. It's the same idea of personal temptation, except the desire it's coded in is for self-preservation and the simple pleasures to make such a bleak existence bearable. And it's effective. I'm not ashamed to say that Pigsy was far and away my favorite of the new cast. This is a softer, more nuanced version of the character; a closet romantic that hides his marsh-mellow heart beneath a sarcastic, much-needed voice of reason.

My only disappointment was that the show didn't delve deeper with the contrast between him and Sandy. Both of them are gods that suffered under the reign of demons, who made different decisions in order to survive. While Pigsy chose to collaborate, working with the regime in order to avoid the fate of his brethren, Sandy hid herself away and is implied to have gone a little bit (okay a lot) insane in her isolation. That could have made for some very interesting tension, so hopefully that's something they're saving for next season.

(*sigh*) I guess it's time to address my main gripe with the series. Episode Four. I'm going into detail so consider this a general spoiler warning for the next few paragraphs. If you want to avoid spoilers, you can skip down to my thoughts on Episode Five, which start beneath the picture of Milo Cawthorne. (Just as a sidenote: this show is like Power Rangers bingo! I've spotted two already and if I find three, I feel like I should get a prize or something).

Ready? Here we go. *SPOILERS AHEAD*

So just like in the original, Monkey isn't on this quest entirely of his own free will. He's bound to Tripitaka by a magical crown that she can use to cause him pain. Episode Four reminds us of this power imbalance early on with a truly unsettling scene where she uses it during a disagreement over how to fight the demons. Hansen's performance is painfully convincing, displaying various shades of shock, humiliation and betrayal, while Buchanan salvages her character from complete disaster with a subtle flash of horrified remorse.

Admittedly, Tripitaka has used the crown once before, but you could argue that time was a last-ditch, panicked effort to save someone's life. Here, she doesn't have that excuse and it throws an ugly light on their relationship. Can they truly friends if one is holding a whip over the other? How much agency does Monkey truly have? Even if she chooses not to use it, that implied threat is always going to be hovering over his head every time he makes a decision that might contradict hers.

The episode takes these interesting questions and... ignores them completely, buries the issue and coughs up some conclusion about it all being okay because Tripitaka is "pure of heart".

I... I really don't know where to start with that.

At least the actress is of Tongan descent so we avoid the racially charged imagery of a white person benevolently enslaving a man of colour for his own good. Instead we have the uncomfortable sight of one hero inflicting pain on another. Baby steps, right?

I think what we have here is an example of remake missfire. The writers have re-used concepts from the source material, but failed to consider the context. See, this worked in the original because Monkey unambiguously earned his imprisonment. Here, it fails because it's hinted right from the beginning that Monkey wasn't entirely at fault for what he was imprisoned for. There's conflicting versions of what happened and even Tripitaka herself seems undecided on what she believes.

Monkey's way of saying thank you.

Even worse, the show spent a lot of effort setting up the friendship between the two. Practically their first interaction was Monkey laying an exuberant kiss on Tripitaka while she stared in starry-eyed wonder at the culmination of her hopes and dreams. We were encouraged to care about this friendship, so it's distressing beyond words to see one of them hurt the other this way. And even more disgusting to see the show bend over backwards to portray Monkey as in the wrong.

The sad part is it would only take a few minor tweaks to turn this problem into an springboard for character development. For example, Tripitaka is already pretty remorseful at her actions, so don't try to validate her. Let the episode end on an ambiguous note, leaving an open question mark about her ability to live up to the wise monk she replaced. Which would add further dramatic tension down the track and add more personal pressure on her to step up.

The bright light in an otherwise uncomfortable episode:
Milo Cawthorne as Affe. 

But alas. Because the writers went with the easy, feel-good ending, we end up with a deeply uncomfortable aesop that not even the comic genius of Milo Cawthorne can cover up. Fortunately, this episode can be easily skipped, as it's relatively self-contained and contributes very little to the overall storyline.

*END SPOILERS*

Phew! Glad I got that out of my system.

Anyway, If I was having doubts (my hand certainly started to creep back toward that remote control) the show made it up to me in Episode Five, where events takes a deliciously dark turn and we learn where the special effects budget from Episode One went. We meet some fantastic villains, including the menacing Shaman (Daniel Watterson) who has his own plans for our heroes. Some might prefer the idiosyncratic Big Bad revealed toward the end of the season, but for me the stand-out villain was the Shaman who managed to be absurdly charismatic and make my skin want to crawl away and hide in a corner. Add the return of Rachel House and macabre hints about what happened to the other gods, and you've got the best episode of the series.

Daniel Watterson as the Shaman.

This all leads directly into Episode Six, where the hints of Monkey's backstory are expanded on and we learn the events that led to his imprisonment. It's a sordid tale of pride before a fall and personal betrayal, and in any other series would present a chance for personal contemplation and growth.

This is Monkey however, and he's not about to learn a lesson lying down. Which is why we love him. Never change, Monkey!

Sadly, just as Monkey reaffirms his purpose, in Episode Seven Tripitaka starts to seriously doubt her place on the quest. I can't blame her either. Lets face it, if you're being chased through a terrifying forest by faceless monsters, you'd start wondering where you went wrong too.

The real question of the series:

who is Tripitaka?

In all seriousness though, it's cleverly done. Until this point, the audience has known who Tripitaka is. We've gone on this journey with her, we've caught the sly winks at the fourth wall, we've been in on the joke. But here, we start to catch on that we may have been hoodwinked too, that there might be more to her than a wholesome bit of cross-dressing. And so we share her awakening curiosity about her past, and start wondering the same question that haunts her. Who is Tripitaka? I have a few ideas, but I'll save that for another post. (Because apparently I have so much to talk about, I need another post.)

Episode Eight starts with the team breaking up, Tripitaka following her past and Sandy following her, while Monkey and Pigsy continue (rather ineptly) on their quest. It's a nice way to build the connections between team-members other than Tripitaka and Monkey, and gives the slightly neglected Sandy the chance to shine. While Monkey and Pigsy's efforts are comedy gold, they're contrasted and complemented by the gentle melancholy of Tripitaka and Sandy's tentative confidences. Sandy quietly telling the tale of how she came to be alone is the most powerful performance of the series and I'd have thrown the remote away if I hadn't already done it two episodes ago. (What are you looking at? I'm not crying; you're crying.)

"No, no, no. You were a boy monk!"

It all kicks into high gear in Episode Nine, where Tripitaka desperately tries to keep knowledge out of the hands of demons while Monkey and Pigsy plan a rescue. Of course, because this is Monkey and Pigsy, someone else comes up with the plan and they try (mostly) not to screw it up. On the bright side, Monkey finally gets a clue that the monk he's been cozying up to is a girl and breaks his brain trying to figure out how that works.

...Aaand right about here is where I threw in the towel and said "Fine, you win. I ship it. They're adorable and I ship it so hard."

Episode Ten is the finale. I liked that Tripitaka doesn't magically overnight become a fighter, still using her wits and guile to defeat the villain. Monkey contributed less than I expected from the guy whose name is in the title, though it does make a sort of sense, as the most important lesson he's had to learn is that it's not all about him. The only let-down was that Pigsy and Sandy didn't get much to do. Yes, Pigsy got to defeat his ex, but she was never that intimidating a villain to begin with, and Sandy barely got to do anything except sneak around trying to figure out what the others were up to.

However, overall I was satisfied with the conclusion I got. I certainly went back and re-watched it more times than I needed to, and not just to get the screen-captures for this article.

Does it live up to the old series?

No. Absolutely not. The old series had a unique (forgive me I cannot resist the pun) magic. There can never be anything like it again.

But judged on its own merits, this is a pretty good show for adults and a fantastic show for kids. Stylistically and conceptually it has the most in common with the anachronistic ham-and-cheese of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys (1995) and Xena: Warrior Princess (1995). The characters are a delight, bringing their own elements of tragedy and comedy to the table. Even Tripitaka, who the writers forced to suffer as the straight man to the others' antics, proved a resourceful and endearing hero when she was alone. The voice-over could be annoying, but unlike Star Trek Discovery (2017) they had the sense to use it sparingly. And even the less than stellar episodes had something to recommend them. For example, as hard as I bitched about Episode Four, it offered some great slapstick comedy and a cartoonishly entertaining villain.

I would definitely watch a second season and hopefully Netlix supplies us with one soon. The first season is available in Australia for free on ABC iview until the 29th of March 2018, after which I assume it will start running on Netflix.

Final Verdict:  Awesome, with only one serious instance of remake misfire. Kids will adore it, adults will enjoy it. My only regret is that I can't time-travel and make my kid-self watch it.

Quote:

"I'll do as I please, not what others tell me to do.
I only take orders from gods and even then, only if I think it's a good idea."