Tattoo artist Tales (Lorn McDonald) is living in his place of work after being kicked out by his girlfriend. In the middle of the night, he’s awoken by a phone call from a guy called Truth (Michael Akinsulire) who represents a well-known figure who needs some new ink right now and has heard Tales is the man for the job. Having accepted the request, Tales is surprised to discover that his latest client is none other than music star of the moment Tummy (Orlando Norman) and asks for a selfie. To the chagrin of Tales, Tummy refuses, which triggers the beginning of an increasingly strange battle of wills as Tales makes it his mission to end the night with that precious selfie in his possession…
Getting to the heart of the matter in double quick time, placing the protagonists in a powder keg of a situation where both physical and mental escape turns out not to be an option, Ciaran Lyons’ film may be small in physical scale but big on ideas, interrogating masculinity itself by means of an ongoing psychological tussle between Tales and Tummy, the former taunted by the latter’s repeated, one line instruction. Tales must abide by said instruction if he has any chance of getting the coveted selfie and Tummy doesn’t appear to be budging in his commitment to challenging Tales over the course of what could be a very long day.
Initially, Tummy appears to be the laid back, softly spoken aggressor, taunting Tales with a reward he hasn’t even promised and may never actually give but as the story moves on, so does the dynamic between the pair, leaving the viewer questioning not only what the hell is going on and what may or may not transpire but also who has the genuine ego problem. Along the way, we’re introduced to the women in Tales’ complex and often disastrous love life, tellingly heard at a distance down a phone line or listened to behind a locked shutter, as is the case with recent romantic interest Shimmy (an excellent debut from Gudrun Roy) who has a lot to say about their relationship.
Tummy Monster is a film that rarely heads in obvious directions and, as such, folks waiting to see if the plot drags in violence and torture porn – which it could lazily and quite easily have done – will be thrown by the lack of claret-soaked face-offs. It’s the dialogue which does the real damage as Tales’ takes on himself and those around him are laid bare by someone at the opposite end of society’s spectrum. It’s elevated further still by a dazzling performance from McDonald, with Norman as a capable and crafty foil for the increasingly unhinged antics which unfold.
Laugh out loud funny at times, nail chewingly tense at others, Tummy Monster is an impressive, genre flipping calling card for Lyons, helming his first feature with confidence and flair. The interactions between the three leads are sharp without ever being silly, which is an achievement given the increasingly ludicrous bind Tales realises he’s in, leading to a last act which reminded me of an even better Locke and replacing concrete with someone particularly special in our (anti-)hero’s life.
Homing in on the not-exclusively – but often destructive – male drive for competition and recognition, plus the inevitable fallout which often comes with both of those, the tale hits hard when contrasting Tales and Tummy’s approaches to their creative lives and their very different views of notoriety. There’s a cautionary note of being careful what you wish for running through this, embodied by Tummy’s powerful, rueful moment of reflecting upon people not being interested in his life beyond the public persona and Tales’ griping about not being appreciated for his artistry.
Tummy Monster may initially come across as bizarre, brash and bawdy but there’s intelligence, heart and wisdom at its core. Like Tales’ cultural icon turned nemesis, there are points at which you will feel your buttons are being pushed, but that’s all part of the experience and, in my book at least, there’s nothing wrong with being tested in this way. It also winds up with a doozy of a payoff which may leave you wondering whether to spew or snort. Endlessly talky? Perhaps. Endlessly entertaining? Yes.
Tummy Monster (2024) featured at this year’s Spirit of Independence Film Festival in Sheffield, UK.