Love and Monsters is a film about one man’s quiet, lonely fight against giant monsters. That sounds like a big premise. In practice, it plays out as a small, intimate story wrapped in a bigger one, and the two sides don’t always meet.
Trailer, via Paramount Pictures.
Meet Joel
The movie opens on Joel (Dylan O’Brien), a survivor living underground in Los Angeles. He’s been hiding since a virus turned insects into enormous creatures. His girlfriend, Abby (Jessica Henwick), lives on the surface. She sends him messages and food, but he can’t see her face. When a signal shows the cure might exist in San Diego, Joel agrees to leave his shelter.
That setup sells itself. A man who hasn’t looked at the sky in years, walking out to find a girl he loves. The script knows this and leans on it.
The Monster Problem
The monsters themselves are the film’s biggest problem. They’re big, loud, and mostly used to move the plot along. A chase through a cornfield, a river crossing, a fight against a creature that looks like a giant insect. These scenes are busy, often thrilling, but they rarely feel like they matter to Joel personally.
The film wants you to care about the monsters as threats. It doesn’t quite manage that. They’re more like obstacles than characters.
Dylan O’Brien Carries It
O’Brien is the reason Love and Monsters works at all. He carries the whole movie, playing a man who’s lost everything and found nothing. His performance is steady, controlled, and sometimes funny in a way the script doesn’t fully deserve.
The film also leans on Henwick, whose Abby is seen mostly through screens and memories. Her presence is felt, but she’s kept at arm’s length, which keeps the emotional stakes smaller than they could be.
San Diego
The final stretch moves Joel toward San Diego, where the cure supposedly waits. This is where the film tries hardest to make its monster fights matter. It fails. The stakes are there on paper, but the execution keeps Joel alone against the creatures, which breaks the intimacy the film spent so long building.
The Quiet Truth
What works in Love and Monsters is Joel’s loneliness. The film understands that better than it understands its monsters. It’s a story about a man who’s been waiting for years, and the waiting is the hardest part. The action sequences are competent. The character work is where the film finds its heart.
A Solid, Small Story
Love and Monsters isn’t a great film. It’s a good one, held back by a premise that asks for spectacle and a director who’s more interested in a man’s quiet grief. The movie is best when it stops being about monsters and starts being about a man who’s finally leaving his shelter.
“I’ve been waiting for years.”
That line sums up the film’s entire approach. Joel has waited, and now he’s moving. The monsters are just the things standing in his way.
Love and Monsters is a film that knows what it’s doing with its lead and its premise, even when it can’t quite pull off the scale it promises. It’s a solid, small story dressed up in big creature effects, and it’s worth seeing for O’Brien’s performance alone. It earns a 6.3 of 10.
Get the Notebook.
The day's best stories and every fresh verdict, in plain English, in your inbox by seven. One email a day, no more.
