Love and Monsters realises early on that trivial things like the end of the world feel very matter-of-fact right now. So, it introduces the apocalypse with a blasé attitude that shows it knows it has nothing new to offer. This sets the stage for a fun – if perhaps disappointingly empty adventure – full of knowing winks and plenty of heart. Oh, and some gigantic mutated insects.
Joel (Dylan O’Brien) is living underground with a group of other survivors, doing their best to survive after an asteroid-related incident destroys 95% of human life and leaves the surface world a mutated hellhole. He has recently established radio contact with his old teenage sweetheart Aimee (Jessica Henwick), who lives in another bunker 85 miles away. To find happiness and his place in the new world, Joel leaves the confines of his home and begins the perilous journey out of the lonely hearts club.
The set-up is formulaic, even a little cringey, but director Michael Matthews does his best to balance a weighty science fiction adventure with a light-hearted thrill ride. The script is loaded with more post-apocalyptic sci-fi tropes and references than you can count, everything from Zombieland to George Miller (Mad Max 2’s Bruce Spence even makes a brief appearance). It all helps to keep the film generally feeling light and breezy even when Joel is blowing up overgrown earthworms or engaging in drawn-out eye contact with a giant crab. It feels unsettled at times for sure, as though competing ideas are wrestling for where the film should go next, but Love and Monsters never loses its sense of fun.
O’Brien deserves credit for showing Joel to be far more than an atypically weak, romantically frustrated Gen Z. He brings out a relatability and vulnerability in Joel, channelling his eventual progression to a semi-accomplished survivor in such a way that prevents him feeling like an overplayed stereotype. It is unsurprising that he is placed front and centre during the film’s most emotional beats, but O’Brien’s performance also suffers from an underwritten supporting cast. His connection with Aimee in particular feels more inevitable than genuine, so much so that a brief scene with Joel and a robot proves far more touching than any moment between the two human protagonists.
The detail and visual attention in Love and Monsters deserves special praise. As with Godzilla vs. Kong, the set design and production mesh perfectly with the creatures and the disaster-strewn playground that makes up almost all of the film’s setting. Matthews achieves this with a fraction of the budget, a feat that deserves massive credit. It is a quality example of what can happen when a film that feels like the brainchild of independent cinema is given the financial support needed to reach the masses – and deservedly so.
Thematically, the film feels a little hollow and obvious, not helped by its insistence on referencing as many apocalypse movies as possible (of course he finds a dog). But Love and Monsters is entertaining and self-aware enough to outpace any narrative weaknesses. O’Brien and Henwick both stand out in a film that takes on the end of the world with an escapist sense of fun and wonder, a refreshing take at a time when disaster has felt a little too close to home for many.
Love and Monsters is available to watch on Netflix now.