Critics reviews

Yūji Sakamoto’s script is a brilliantly constructed puzzle, and the breadcrumb trails of clues that litter the film have a naturalism that belie its inherent structural constraints... [Kore-eda] has captured an indelible depiction of early adolescence, with Kurokawa and Hiiragi giving two of the most profoundly genuine performances on film.

While Monster would be fairly impressive coming from lesser talents, its manipulative gist seems a bit beneath the standard of someone normally so attuned to psychological nuance. It’s not at all a bad movie, but neither is it good Kore-eda.

[Monster] is lovely and tender but conspicuously contrived... Despite its sometimes overwrought mystery-tale gambits, however, “Monster” ultimately shifts from a saga of fateful misunderstanding to one of mutual comprehension.

If possible, watch “Monster” more than once. Not that it’s a puzzle that begs to be solved. What Kore-eda doles out are not revelatory surprises so much as gradual enlightenments, and our attitude toward the characters is forbidden to settle or to stick.

This exquisitely rendered work from Kore-eda is a delicate web of compassion and embattlement: three separate views of one stretch of momentous time, spun and respun with care and craft.

What matters in “Monster” isn’t the gamesmanship built into its structure but the imaginative richness, the emotional immediacy, and the vital performances that are concentrated in its extended third section.

Kore-eda and Yûji Sakamoto clearly wield the classic nesting-doll structure of Rashomon not to dissect or ferret out truth, but as a guiding hand toward one important truth... It’s a long twisting journey, but the destination is rewarding nonetheless.

Monster bears a striking resemblance to Lukas Dhont’s Close (2022) regarding the disastrous ripple effects regarding enforced gender based behavior, specifically in these two films amongst young boys. Kore-eda is making more of a definitive statement, but only through utilizing the sincerity of how children process their feelings while also attempting to adhere to rigid social norms.

With his latest film Monster, Hirokazu Kore-eda has outdone himself. Rather than make one bad film, as he usually does, the Japanese director has made the equivalent of three, each one worse and more wrongheaded than the last.

By cutting things up and showing us the perils of fractured perspectives, the director, one of cinema’s great humanists, demonstrates that compassion is more than just a natural state of being... I’m not sure I’ve seen a better film about the indisputable (and increasingly relevant) fact that we never really know what someone else is going through.

Lovingly detailed and accented by an aching score from Ryuichi Sakamoto, who died in March, “Monster” is one of the finest films of the year, and its structure — like its circle of characters — carries secrets that can only be unraveled through patience and empathy.

While “Monster” depends on dramatic irony and revelatory twists, it’s also a showcase for director Hirokazu Kore-eda, whose knack for collaboration brings out the best in his actors, especially his younger cast members.