Monson’s narration has the rampant energy and good-natured, aw-shucks humility of a lively conversation in a movie theater lobby ... Some level of interest in the film is definitely required to understand what Monson is saying, but his storytelling spills over with tactile curiosity and fervor, making this work accessible to those who have seen the movie 145 fewer times than he has. It’s a book that will ignite conversation (and multiple film rewatches) for those who can relate to Monson’s familiar sentiment: 'I’m not angry at masculinity exactly but I do have questions for it.'”
Written in loose-jointed yet elegant prose that guiltily savors Predator’s pleasures, Monson’s subtle, twisty appreciations and critiques—'It’s satire wrapped in gun pornography.... tenderness wrapped in beefy macho posturing and explosive ballets'—transform the movie into a penetrating commentary on the contradictions of manhood. Movie buffs will want to snap this up.
In a country where incomprehensible, violent tragedies are becoming commonplace, Monson finds clarity processing the new American way against the backdrop of his favorite movie ... Monson finds a cracking pace that imbues the film with an improbable resonance, at once lowbrow and mesmerizingly cogent ... An unlikely treatise on manhood with the charm of a late-night movie marathon.