Gruelling and disturbing, Tummy Monster is a strange presentation of entitlement. An exhibition of male idiocy and the extremes that people will go to keep up a façade, this visually intoxicating piece by Ciaran Lyons oozes high suffocation and thrumming anxiety. It’s a picture that will haunt the viewers’ minds for years to come and prompt questions about human behaviour and the normalisation of crossing boundaries.
★★★★☆
Following Tales, a tattoo artist living decrepitly in his studio, Tummy Monster tells the story of an estranged father to six-year-old Lola and the desperate ex of Roxy. Like a petulant child unwilling to grow up and take accountability for the downturn of his life, Tales seeks an alternative to getting back on track.
An opportunity arises when a famous musician calls him up in the middle of the night looking for a tattoo. Taking a chance, Tales asks Tummy, the musician, for a selfie. He assumes this will endear his daughter and ex to him. Tummy turns him down, leaving Tales frustrated at the rejection. Desperate for that selfie, Tales locks himself and Tummy in the confines of his studio. The two play what at first seems like a silly game. But as the night goes on and dawn breaks into the next day, the game takes a twisted turn.
Tummy Monster is dynamic because of its multifaceted exploration of themes. It may at first seem like another outlandish commentary on male behaviour à la King Baby. However, as it progresses, the audience will peel back layers upon layers of different takeaways. There’s the concept of parasocial relationships and the normalisation of breaching boundaries. Tales not only believes himself entitled to a selfie with Tummy, he also finds it incomprehensible to be refused. This reflects the selfish nature of modern society, where people think they are entitled to certain things.
Another excellent theme explored is the mask that people wear. It’s not just about hiding emotions and curating a specific image. Tales’ breakdown highlights what it means to be consumed by this idea a person has of themselves, and the consequences of taking that too far. Sometimes, people believe a lie strong enough they start thinking it’s the truth.
These are just some of the topics Lyons covers in his debut feature. It’s important to note that having a list of things to discuss is not enough to create a cinematic experience, so Tummy Monster excelling in the execution of these themes as well is the real kicker. It’s a very contained story, set in one location with only three physical characters: Tales, Tummy, and Truth. Everything takes place within the vicinity of the tattoo parlour and this confined setting creates suffocation and amplifies the irritability of Tales. Furthermore, even though the audience can’t see what’s happening in the outside world, Lyons still moves the plot forward through diegetic sounds. There’s a sense that there’s a whole world outside these two characters and their game—a world they are not participating in. The pressure of their absence furthers that claustrophobic feeling.
More importantly, the whole script works because of the brilliance of the actors. Lorn Macdonald embodies this cringey, annoying, self-involved and ignorant ball of anxiety that Tales is. Watching him truly induces second-hand embarrassment within the viewer, which is a testament to Macdonald’s dedication to the character. Orlando Norman is perfect for the role of Tummy—he’s cool, calm and collected. His enigmatic charisma draws audiences in; they can truly believe he is a mega-famous superstar. But there’s a striking intensity to him that borders on dangerous. That juxtaposition between the two characters elevates this psychological thriller aspect of Tummy Monster. While there are no gun fights or supernatural occurrences in the film, there is something otherworldly in the interactions between the two.
The electric aesthetics of the picture aid in creating that effect. Neon lighting and high-contrast visuals take viewers back to that MTV era of music videos. This, of course, makes sense due to Lyons’ background in working on music videos. These stylistic choices complement the dynamic soundtrack, with the score provided by Lyons’s brother, Chris Lyons. The significance of the sound and score speaks to Tummy as a musician. More importantly, it works with the visuals to allude to this psychological thriller aspect of Tummy Monster. There are a lot of beats throughout the feature that feel like something straight out of a horror movie. It’s an interesting method of creating suspense and excitement in an otherwise grounded premise.
The Verdict
Tummy Monster is an alluring feast for the senses. Abundant in its themes, Lyons flirts with satire and dark comedy to commentate on male exhibition, entitlement, and the facades that people put up—among other things. It uses elements of horror and psychological thrillers like body horror and jump scare tactics to create an immersive experience for the viewer. Using repetition through dialogue, Lyons highlights how words can take on different meanings as interactions between people change. However, underneath its neon-drenched bravado, Tummy Monster is a story of desperation and the extremes of human behaviour when pushed to their absolute ruin.
Words by Mae Trumata
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