The Monster Walks: A Rainy Night of Ape-y Nonsense

Is this thing worth the electricity?

If you like movies that feel like a stage play held together by duct tape and sheer willpower, then maybe yes. If you’re looking for something that makes actual sense or has a budget for more than two lamps, stay far away.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Monster Walks (1932) through its definitive frames.

This is strictly for people who love the smell of 1930s film stock and don't mind when the plot takes a nap for twenty minutes. It’s got that specific, damp atmosphere that you only really find in movies like The Power of Evil or other forgotten oddities of that era.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Monster Walks (1932) through its definitive frames.

The Ape Situation

The whole movie is basically: storm happens, door slams, someone screams, repeat. Then there’s the ape. It’s definitely a guy in a suit, and you can tell because he moves with all the grace of a toddler in a heavy winter coat. 🦍

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Monster Walks (1932) through its definitive frames.

There’s this one scene where a character is just standing by a window, and you can see the shadow of the 'monster' moving behind a curtain. The shadow is clearly just a cardboard cutout or a hand puppet. I laughed so hard I dropped my coffee.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Monster Walks (1932) through its definitive frames.

The Vibes

Everything is so dark. I mean, they probably spent the entire lighting budget on three candles and a flashlight that flickers out at the worst possible second. It feels less like a horror movie and more like a very intense game of hide-and-seek where the stakes are somehow both high and completely meaningless.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of The Monster Walks (1932) through its definitive frames.

Willie Best is doing a lot of heavy lifting here. It’s honestly impressive how he manages to keep a straight face while the rest of the cast is busy overacting their way through the floorboards. 🙄

• The thunderstorm sound effect loops every 45 seconds exactly.
• Nobody actually turns on the lights when they enter a room.
• The ape’s mask looks like it was bought at a discount bin in 1928.

It’s not as polished as People on Sunday, obviously, but it has this weird, frantic energy. It feels like everyone involved knew it was a bit silly and just decided to lean into the chaos. Honestly, I respect that. Sometimes you don't need a masterpiece; you just need a monkey in a hallway.

It drags in the middle. The pacing is a bit like a car engine trying to start on a freezing morning—lots of sputtering and stalling before anything actually happens. But by the time the finale hits, you’re kind of just along for the ride. Don't think too hard about the plot holes. They are massive enough to drive a truck through.