New York is for the grimy, nasty transgressiveness of Taxi Driver or Bad Lieutenant, whereas California is home to the romantic tragedy of Chinatown or To Live and Die in L.A. Texas has served as the setting for neo-westerns like Badlands and Hell or High Water, and while other states haven’t inspired films of the same thematic consistency, there’re several memorable crime mysteries set in Alabama (My Cousin Vinny, Mississippi Burning), Pennsylvania (Witness, Unstoppable), and New Hampshire (To Die For, Affliction). While Florida’s cinematic reputation has gone through different phases, in no doubt due to its fluctuating political affiliation, films set there are traditionally swampy, sweaty, and sensual.
With its heavy tourism industry and generational wealth, Florida’s been depicted as the destination of scum, with stolen cash as the MacGuffin for various duplicitous parties. The sexualization of Florida is distinct from the polished, picturesque quality of the West Coast; between a sweaty erotic thriller like Body Heat, a high-school murder mystery like Wild Things, or disruptive artistic statement like Spring Breakers, “Florida crime” cinema has occupied a unique middle ground between prestige and pulp.
What makes Bad Monkey a standout is the Apple TV+ show’s self-awareness; every character in the eight-part series has a checkered past, and there’s a fair amount of dubious activity that’s been committed around the corners of the story at hand. Based on the Carl Hiaasen novel of the same name, Bad Monkey starred Vince Vaughn in the role of Andrew Yancy, a former private investigator whose defiant nature left him out of work. Instead of the “grizzled veteran” approach that’s often utilized in detective stories, Bad Monkey allowed Vaughn to retain the fast-talking, flippant attitude that he displayed in Swingers and Old School. Yancy isn’t a character that’s sought a path of redemption; he just has a history of being at the center of mysteries, conspiracies, and crime.
Bad Monkey isn’t groundbreaking, but it’s refreshing in its laid-back execution. While most crime shows have attempted to “hook” potential viewers with a major question presented at the conclusion of their pilots, Bad Monkey leisurely introduced its suspects and sidekicks. Considering that a significant portion of the series involved characters discussing matters over drinks, it makes sense that the narrative flow of Bad Monkey is similar to that of a slurred story from an enthusiastic barmate; he may have tried to give the important details up front, but he’s forced to go back and provide context whenever it’s necessary, leaving everyone confused.
Bad Monkey could’ve been condensed into a show with a shorter episode count, but it’s length is justified because each component of the series could’ve easily been the primary focus. There’s an entire show within Yancy’s budding friendship with the retired detective Rogelio (John Ortiz), who’s grown irritated by the frequency in which he’s pulled back into his former profession. A series could’ve featured Yancy’s romance with his ex-girlfriend Bonnie Witt (Michelle Monaghan), whose penchant for troublesome partners has landed her in sticky situations. Nick Stripling (Rob Delaney) is a buffoon with a gun, but his hilariously misguided romance with the con artist Eve (Meredith Hagner) would’ve been interesting, even if Yancy wasn’t involved.
Although Bad Monkey does overindulge in its stylism by the point that the mystery’s explained, it’s given momentum by Vaughn. Yancy’s a protagonist who’s unencumbered by the archetypes of prestige television; he’s not a brooding anti-hero like Don Draper or Walter White, or a tormented genius like Dr. Gregory House or Adrian Monk. Yancy’s duped into doing the right thing, but he’s also unselfish; given that Vaughn appears constantly amused with himself, it’s easy for the viewer to feel like they’re in on the joke.
The series has treated Yancy as a character whose intersection with danger is an eventuality; even if Vaughn can deliver a sharp comeback to any passive-aggressive comment hurled in his direction, Bad Monkey isn’t interested in seeing him rewarded. Although it’s funny to highlight a protagonist who doesn’t do any moral finger-wagging, that doesn’t mean that Vaughn has coasted on sarcasm; in fact, Yancy’s romance with the tireless medical examiner Rosa Campesino (Natalie Martinez) is a sincere depiction of two middle-aged characters who find fulfillment in each other’s modest ambitions. The poignancy of Vaughn and Martinez’ chemistry is cathartic.
Showrunner Bill Lawrence, whose past credits include television comedies like Clone High and Scrubs, has understood that the way in which stories unfold is more interesting than what’s at stake. Even if Bad Monkey is a whodunit that viewers can solve early on, the series has found an interesting way for Yancy to pick up the clues; between pranks pulled on a haughty neighbor, severed limbs carried in coolers, and a spiritual meeting with an Obeah–practicing “Dragon Queen” (Jodie Turner-Smith), Yancy’s ability to find the most complicated answers to simple questions has ensured the series hasn’t yet overstayed its welcome. Bad Monkey’s charms may diminish with a second season, but compared to the presumptiveness on television now, the series is a diverting vacation.