Before things go too far, it’s important to offer this disclaimer. Bad Monkey’s monkey isn’t especially naughty. Or even all that present. So people with particular opinions on animal performers, now you know. Proceed accordingly.
For everyone else, Bad Monkey isn’t bad. In fact, it’s largely quite good.
The series grabs your attention with an opener that accurately captures the tone of the ten episodes to come. An arrogant, nouveau riche-coded husband on honeymoon reels in a big one. Only problem is it turns out not to be a fish. Instead, a severed arm, seemingly flipping off the world, hangs off the hook. His new bride screams inconsolably as a deckhand snaps a pic of the man with his catch. On the deck above, the rent-a-captain dryly mumbles to himself about the business of making dreams come true. It is loud, over the top, funny, and a bit horrifying when you stop to think about it.
After that effective cold opening, Bad Monkey does wobble a bit. Vince Vaughn, as former Miami Police Detective turned suspended Monroe Country Police Detective Andrew Yancy, brings his usual hyperverbal flair to the part. The show also reflects the humanistic brand of comedy of series developer Bill Lawrence’s previous works like Ted Lasso, Shrinking, and Scrubs. At first, the two approaches don’t fit, especially with Scott Glenn’s man of nature by way of Sam Elliot in The Big Lebowski voiceover. However, it quickly becomes apparent the discordance is a.) intentional and b.) not as large as expectations initially may have led one to expect. It becomes an expression of two great tastes that taste great together on both a plot-setting and creator-star level.
After nearly 30 years of fame, Vaughn’s proven himself an acquired taste. His primary comic persona, a fast-talking misanthropist whose quips drip with condescension, feels far away from Lawrence’s world of generally good people trying to overcome their years of maladaptive protective armor to connect with others. In very little time, though, it becomes clear Yancy is no glib cynic. He’s an open, soft-hearted Lawrence protagonist with more in common with Scrubs’ JD than a signature Vaughn character like Wedding Crashers’ Jeremy.
Many Florida-based noirs feature protagonists who seemingly sweat and fight like hell against the normal pace of that peninsula. For instance, Denzel Washington’s corruption-tinged Matt Whitlock in Carl Franklin’s Out of Time. Vaughn’s Yancy, by contrast, embraces Florida’s humid, sun-soaked sluggishness. That fits with author of the source material Carl Hiaasen’s style. The writer “gets” Florida, not shying away from the state’s unique personality while not reducing it to parody. In Bad Monkey, both the creator and star find that similar groove. We are laughing with Florida, not at it.
As someone who admittedly stayed on the Vaughn train longer than most, I appreciated how the actor uses his existing relationship with the audience to surprise. Yancy isn’t quite a feat as his work as Freaky’s Millie, but it fits in the same variety of flipping what we’ve grown to think of as a “Vaughn character” on its head. He has the classic noir protagonist trappings—he loves the wrong women, despite the ways the system has failed him, he can’t stop trying to do the right thing, and he can take and dole out beatings with similar aplomb—but it’s all wrapped in a disarmingly sunny personality.
The show wouldn’t work without Vaughn and Lawrence getting on the same level. But to focus entirely on that alchemy risks missing everything else about the show that makes it so watchable. After years of mainly supporting turns, Meredith Hagner is excellent as Eve, the widow and possible murderer of the man formerly attached to the discovered arm. Her mix of ditz and matter-of-fact ruthlessness makes her a different kind of femme fatale, one as capable of ripping her prey’s throat out (metaphorically) as manipulating someone else into doing it for her.
Her moral opposite, the coroner Rosa Campesino (Natalie Martinez), starts a little fuzzier, perhaps a bit too idealized. Thankfully, she steadily accumulates depth throughout the series. A confrontation between her and Vaughn works entirely because Martinez has found and presented Rosa’s complications and pain spots without sacrificing the character’s sense of fun and vibrance. Other one-dimensional characters like the enforcer Egg (David St. Louis), the dead man’s daughter Caitlin (Charlotte Lawrence), and arrested development player Neville (Ronald Peet) gain similarly surprising profundity through Bad Monkey.
The best example is the Dragon Queen (Jodie Turner-Smith) of Andros, the other major setting of the story. Turner-Smith provides a striking visual, costumed in essentially sacred vestments for most of the show. She’s also the coolest person in the show, dismissing nonbelievers with a look or a sharp retort. And yet, when she finally breaks open, she’s even better, raging with righteous indignation and acute self-blame. It’s a small part but pivotal. You can’t take your eyes off her every time she’s on-screen.
I’m running out of space, but quickly, Zach Braff, Alex Moffat, Rob Delaney, Gizel Jimenez, John Ortiz, L. Scott Caldwell, and Ashley Nicole Black (and many more) are all great, too. Bob Clendenin is so damn funny in the final two episodes.
Bonnie Witt (Michelle Monaghan), as Yancy’s on-again, off-again married girlfriend, will likely prove the most controversial figure of the series. Monaghan well plays the book-obsessed adulterer who clearly imagines herself as the dramatic protagonist of her life story. She nails that kind of person’s self-satisfaction and brittle self-esteem. Later in the series, revelations about her past may annoy or upset some, particularly given the flippancy with which the show treats them. It all feels apace with Bad Monkey’s tone. That said, I can also appreciate that others might feel “it fits with the show’s attitude” is not nearly reason enough.
Nonetheless, Bad Monkey has this critic anxious for another visit to the Keys to ride along with Vaughn under Lawrence’s guidance. This kind of television is perfect for these waning days of summer when the sun shines, but the shadows are quietly, inevitably, growing longer.
Bad Monkey lends AppleTV+ an ar–err–a hand starting on August 14.