The Monkey King

If you’ve spent any time around global folklore, you know the Monkey King isn’t just a character; he’s an industry. Between Journey to the West adaptations, Dragon Ball riffs, and countless video games, Sun Wukong has more screen time than some of our most beloved Marvel heroes. So, when I saw Netflix was dropping a new animated take on the legend, I went in with a healthy dose of "What else is there to say?" but also a genuine curiosity about how Anthony Stacchi (the director behind the wonderfully tactile The Boxtrolls) would handle the trickster god.

I watched this on a Tuesday night while trying to fix a leaky faucet with a pair of pliers and a YouTube tutorial, and I’ll be honest: the Monkey King’s brand of "I can do anything myself" arrogance resonated a little too deeply with my own domestic failures.

A Hero Only a Mother (or a Stick) Could Love

The biggest swing this movie takes is making its protagonist—voiced with frantic, high-pitched energy by Jimmy O. Yang—unabashedly annoying. Most modern family adventures give us a "chosen one" who is misunderstood or shy. Not this guy. This Monkey King is essentially a toxic influencer who just happens to have a magical staff. He’s narcissistic, obsessed with his "brand" as a demon-slayer, and desperately wants a seat at the table with the immortal gods who clearly want nothing to do with him.

It’s a bold choice. For the first thirty minutes, I found myself waiting for the "likable" moment, but the film doubles down on his ego. He isn't looking for friends; he’s looking for fans. This makes his relationship with Lin (Jolie Hoang-Rappaport), a village girl who joins his quest as a "tribute" (read: assistant/conscience), the necessary anchor for the story. Lin is the audience surrogate who basically tells him to shut up when his head gets too big, and their chemistry saves the movie from becoming a one-man show of primate hubris.

Neon Dragons and Sentient Staffs

Visually, The Monkey King is a hyper-caffeinated sprint. We’re in an era of animation—post-Spider-Verse and Puss in Boots: The Last Wish—where the "standard" Pixar look is being traded for more expressive, stylized aesthetics. While this film doesn't quite hit those experimental heights, it uses a vibrant, almost neon palette for its supernatural realms. The action is heavily influenced by classic wuxia films, which makes sense given that the legendary Stephen Chow (of Kung Fu Hustle fame) served as an executive producer. You can feel his fingerprints on the slapstick timing and the way battles escalate into pure, cartoonish absurdity.

The breakout star of the technical side, however, isn't even a person. It’s Stick. Voiced—if you can call rhythmic hums and chirps "voicing"—by Nan Li, the Monkey King’s sentient weapon is a masterclass in minimalist character design. It’s a glowing red pole that manages to show more emotional intelligence than its owner. Watching a piece of wood roll its non-existent eyes at Jimmy O. Yang’s antics was the most relatable part of the entire 92-minute runtime.

High Camp Under the Sea

If there’s one reason to hit "play" on this tonight, it’s Bowen Yang as the Dragon King. Playing a villain who is literally falling apart because he’s been underwater too long (his skin is peeling, and he’s obsessed with moisturizing), Bowen Yang brings a "disgruntled diva" energy that elevates every scene he’s in. He even gets a full-blown musical number that feels like it wandered in from a completely different, much weirder movie.

The film does struggle occasionally with the "streaming era" pacing. It feels designed to keep a kid from scrolling away, meaning the plot moves at a breakneck speed that sometimes leaves the emotional beats in the dust. We jump from Hell to the Peach Garden to the bottom of the ocean so fast it can feel like a fever dream. The script, handled by Steve Bencich and Ron J. Friedman, hits the expected "learn to care about others" milestones, but it’s the weird, specific details—like the bumbling demon duo Benbo (Jo Koy) and Babbo (Ron Yuan)—that keep it from feeling like a generic quest.

Ultimately, The Monkey King is a solid, colorful addition to the Netflix animation stable that succeeds mostly because it refuses to make its hero a "nice guy." It’s an adventure that understands the value of a good gag and the importance of a well-placed ego check. While it might not redefine the Journey to the West legacy for a new generation, it’s a fun, frantic ride that respects its cultural roots while having a blast poking fun at them. It’s perfect for a family movie night where you want something more energetic than a typical fable, even if you’ll probably forget the specific plot points by breakfast.