Monster Review: A Silent Scream

With hardly a word spoken, Monster engulfs viewers in a bleak drama unfolding through visuals alone. Directed by Rako Prijanto for Netflix in 2023, this Indonesian thriller follows two children taken captive in a remote house and the little girl’s desperate efforts to save them both. What could have come across as a rudimentary premise is instead elevated through Prijanto’s striking directorial choices.

We meet Alana and Rabin just after school, biking home as usual, until a mysterious man snatches them into his dark vehicle. When Alana awakens chained in an unfamiliar basement, all seems hopeless—but she possesses a resilient spirit. With deft camerawork placing us by the children’s sides, Monster immerses us in their nightmare through sight and sound. Each creeping footstep and muffled cry resonates with a piercing authenticity, keeping tension taut as a bowstring.

While sporadic dropped lines of dialogue may have offered welcome relief, Prijanto boldly carries the story without them. In their absence, we lean in closer to drink in every nuanced detail, developing a keen awareness of the surroundings as if we’re trapped alongside the children. When Alana at last spots another’s suffering face, the moment cuts deep.

For all its grim subject matter, Monster ultimately conveys a message of courage in our darkest hours. Through a girl’s simple acts of bravery and tenacity, light persists—a light that, reflected in Prijanto’s striking vision, continues shining long after viewers have left the theater of the mind.

Monster Movie’s Haunting Chase for Freedom

We’re quickly introduced to siblings Alana and Rabin, cheerful kids enjoying an afternoon at the arcade. But dark clouds are looming. A menacing man named Jack has been stalking nearby schools on the hunt for victims. After Rabin wanders away, Jack seizes his chance, and poor Alana soon finds herself bound and trapped alongside her brother in Jack’s trunk.

Night falls as they’re driven to a remote and rundown house. Here, Jack’s true colors emerge in a barrage of horror. He drags Rabin inside, shackling the crying boy, while Alana is left alone in the suffocating trunk. Yet even in her isolation, a fiery spirit stirs—Alana manages to cut free, bursting from the trunk in search of Rabin.

What she finds inside is almost too much to bear. Photos of dead children line the walls, and an upstairs “studio” leaves no doubt about Jack’s depraved acts. But Alana bravely pushes on, dodging Jack as he plays sick “games” with Rabin. Rescue seems impossible against such a monstrous foe, controlling the house like a deadly maze.

Jack, it seems, is part of an even larger criminal ring, selling kidnapped children into twisted purposes. Alana bears witness to the full horrors, finding a chopped-up boy stashed under a bed. Though terrified, her love for Rabin gives her strength. In the climactic battle, she finally bests Jack—but there can be no rest yet, as an accomplice, Murni, remains a threat.

What follows is a desperate final push for freedom. Alana fights to free Rabin, the two children racing from the evil that has consumed the house. Even as dawn’s light spills over the land, Murni refuses to let them flee, chasing them into the coming day with murderous intent. But help, at last, arrives, and the children are pulled from the shadows of night into the arms of safety. Their ordeal may end, but the ghosts of Monster’s house will haunt them forever.

Breaking Free from Terror

While the plot of Monster may not surprise, one element it gets right is its characters. At the story’s heart is Alana, a young girl thrust into a nightmare yet displaying bravery well beyond her years. Though terrified for herself and Rabin, she refuses to surrender to fear. When an opportunity arises, Alana acts swiftly despite the risks, exemplifying courage in a way both gutsy and inspiring.

Of course, such trials take their toll. In Alana’s wide, watery eyes we see a toll already growing—one that will haunt her long after escaping the villain’s clutches. Even liberating Rabin and outrunning pursuit bring her no peace, only further trauma. This bleakly underscores how vile acts can damage their victims indefinitely. Still, it is a testament to Alana’s strength of spirit that she perseveres at all.

Rabin, too, shows perseverance despite reduced screen time. Through no fault of his own, he becomes prey in a brutal scheme. Yet he endures unspeakable acts with staunch resilience, prompting Alana’s devoted guardianship. While details remain scarce, their sibling bond remains clear—a humane note in an otherwise nightmarish story.

As for the villains, Jack and Murni conform to thriller standards—twisted minds capable of anything. Clad in inky menace, they stalk Alana and Rabin as surely as their shadowy home. Perhaps erring on generically evil, they stir dread largely through implication rather than complexity.

Regardless, their cruelty leaves an indelible mark, as does Alana’s will to fight free of it. That a child could emerge from such trauma with her humanity intact is no small thing. In bearing witness to her struggle, Monster delivers a pulse-pounding tale with beats of hope—however faint—piercing the gloom.

Crafting Suspense Through Sight and Sound

Director Rako Prijanto faced a bold challenge in Monster—telling a gripping story without a single word uttered. Through visuals and sound alone, this thriller must engross audiences and keep tension high. By many accounts, Prijanto rises admirably to the task.

Clever camerawork places us in the action, whether peering from cupboards with Alana or lingering uncomfortably close to the ominous Jack. Smooth tracking shots follow the characters’ movement, while skewed angles accentuate their unease. More impressive still is conveying emotion without expression—one glance from Alana conveys her mounting fear and resolve.

Equal skill goes into the sound design. Each footstep and strained breath pulls us deeper into the nightmare. Extended scenes of silence intensify the isolation before uneasily giving way to score. At its best, this amplified each surprise jump. Regrettably, a bothersome distortion interfered at points, disrupting the chilling atmosphere.

Notable is a sequence wherein Alana hides mere inches from her captor. Watching his blurred movements through a cracked door, we share her terror at being caught. Another gripping set piece involves her stealthily navigating the house’s hidden spaces. Effective use of limited views maintains suspense until the final, stomach-twisting moment.

Alas, not all holds together so neatly. Logical gaps surface, like the villains’ failure to secure their hostage more thoroughly or verify her during escape attempts. Tighter plotting could have navigated these blunders, strengthening an otherwise strong visual narrative. While craft is evident, some refining may have elevated Prijanto’s already laudable directorial achievement.

Overall, director Prijanto proves himself a master of visual storytelling. Through sight and sound alone, Monster immerses us in a harrowing child’s nightmare, a testament to the power of image over word. Ambitious innovations come with risks, but on the whole, this thriller engages through unspoken means.

Facing Darkness With Light

This film takes on heavy themes while maintaining a glimmer of hope. At its core, Monster explores childhood vulnerability and how even the innocent can face depravity. Yet for Alana and Rabin, their natural survival instincts kick in during the nightmare—bravely enduring torment and finding moments of resilience.

While the evil of others thrusts them into hell, the love between siblings keeps them going. Alana in particular embodies this duality: a young girl forced to confront a grown man’s malice yet refusing to lose her humanity even as she fights back. Her protectiveness for Rabin, put to the ultimate test, proves far stronger than the darkness surrounding them.

In such a harrowing ordeal, it’s meaningful that justice does come, though not by their own hands. The law ultimately intervenes to save the children, revealing how even the small may find allies where least expected. Their tenacity and bond carried them through to better days ahead, showing the power of our shared hopes over those who prey on the vulnerable.

Monster touches on heavy subjects yet conveys a message of light. By facing down tragedy with bravery and refusing to let cruelty dim their spirits, Alana and Rabin represent humanity’s ability to overcome even life’s deepest trials through our insistence on compassion. Their story honors the resilience of the young and innocent against the worst evils, giving viewers hope that good can rise up to meet even the starkest of realities.

Unsettling Similarities, Striking Differences

Monster undoubtedly draws inspiration from its Hollywood predecessor, The Boy Behind the Door. Both tales follow the harrowing abduction and imprisonment of two youths, exploring humanity’s capacity for resilience against unimaginable cruelty. Yet for all their parallels, distinguishing directorial styles yield curious contrast.

Where The Boy utilized dialogue to an agonizing effect, drawing viewers deep into its characters’ terror, Monster embraces silence as an unsettling storytelling mechanism. Without words to grasp, the faceless distress of its nameless victims resonates on a sheerly visceral level, leaving context to the eyes. Some found this chilling effect diminished tension, but others felt it intensified the atmosphere of alienation.

Technique aside, portrayals of trauma diverge as well. The Boy grounded horrors in gritty realism, while Monster veers into a oneiric, psychedelic plane of surreality at times. This fueled criticism of tonal inconsistency, though more scholars view it as elevating the material above strict naturalism.

Ultimately, both deliver harrowing warnings about humanity’s darkness. But their takeaways differ: The Boy instills vigilance through graphic liability, whereas Monster awakens empathy through a nightmarish dreamscape. Audiences will debate which proves more effective, as creative works so often spark passionate discussions.

Regardless of approach, stories exposing evils against innocents serve as mirrors reflecting society’s work still left. And wherever their roots, films grant solace to victims through communal catharsis. For that shared healing, we can appreciate even the most difficult of tales.

Facing Fear Through Silence

Monster aims high with its vision of crafting horror without dialogue. Such an ambitious approach risks losing viewers within the story. Yet for all its stumbles, the film finds ways to unsettle those that linger with the soul.

Without words to guide us, each chilling scene leaves an island of mystery challenging the mind to fill. This disquiets far more than any gore ever could, tapping roots of fear deeper than screams reach. And in freeing eyes to express what lips would tell, quiet scenes birth nuances that sing.

To walk the creaking halls with only images and instinct feels a terror true. The film drags us with the children into worlds where reason fails and monsters wait unseen around each corner. Though dark turns frustrating and logic sometimes lapses, the soul stays gripped.

In the end, silences that leave questions standing echo long after final scenes fade. Monster challenges with a boldness rare and revelatory, demanding viewers face their fears, not just watch others’ terrors from a distance. Such willingness to confront the unknown within ourselves, if not for all, merits praise for some. Its vision, however hazy at times, stays hauntingly alive.