It's a jungle out there: feeling seen in "Mr. Monk's Last Case."

On the nostalgia induced by a post-COVID reboot of one of my favorite childhood television shows. Content warning: talks of suicidal ideation and spoilers from the Monk reunion and reboot movie.

Prompt:

This essay began as a response to this month’s Inner Story writing guide where we were instructed to take the last line of a previous piece and use that to start a new piece. I chose a freewrite from the prompt “First Question” as the origin.

What is the first question that comes to your mind when I say “you can ask me anything?” 

Is it something sexual? 

Something deeply personal? 

Maybe something about my mental health? 

Or is it something deemed a little safer? 

Usually, the question that comes to mind first is the one we’d like answered the most. But, we often skip over it because we’re not sure if it’s emotionally safe to ask.

Who came up with the safety rules?

Who decided that vulnerability was the thing to be feared and not the weight of wearing masks all in the name of emotional security?

When I invite you to ask me anything, I don’t want you to ask what my favorite color is, or what I like to do for fun. I want you to dig down deep and ask what you fear the most, like “when’s the last time you thought about dying?” or “Do you like to be choked?” 

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I want you to dig down deep and ask me what you fear the most, like “When’s the last time I thought about dying?” or “Do I like to be choked?” 

If you ask the latter, my answer is “sometimes, it depends” and if you ask the former, well, the answer is “I’m actually thinking about it right now. I think I think about it in some way every day.”

Few characters in pop culture fiction make me feel as seen as Adrian Monk. As a kid, I used to watch the show with my late Grandmother, and she’d even jokingly call me her little Monk because of our similarities.

Mr. Monk and I both found ourselves constantly bothered by seemingly minute or unnoticeable things, things that others regarded as trivial. We both often find ourselves feeling strange and othered everywhere we go, constantly needing to explain our “quirks.” And, we’re both blessed and cursed with abilities others praise, while often being sick of our own shit—painfully aware of and revered for our “gifts.” Because I feel so seen and understood when I watch, I feel comforted by reruns of Monk and find myself watching often. I can predict what will happen in all of the episodes I haven’t seen before not only because of how well-written the show is but also because of how similar I am to the main character.

Yesterday, a reboot made-for-streaming movie entitled “Mr. Monk’s Last Case” premiered on Peacock and had me chest-deep in my feelings. I was hugged by the nostalgia of seeing old characters fall right back into rhythm, though decades older. The plot falls right in line with the times we’re currently facing in real life: post-but-still-current COVID, and the greedy and criminal billionaires ruining the world. What I was not prepared for was just how similar Mr. Monk and I’s current lives are. 

We quickly see that Monk has had a rough time adjusting to life post-but-still-current pandemic. He loses his book deal, thus having to pay back his advance resulting in not being able to fund his stepdaughter’s wedding and feeling like he let her down. He’s not working. And, he feels hopeless and purposeless. During a session, his longtime therapist matter-of-factly stated “Everyone has problems and fears and disappointments. They're all coping.” then continued and asked, “How are they different from you?” 

“Well, for one thing, they’re coping.” Monk solemnly replies.

We then see that throughout the entire movie, Mr. Monk faces constant suicidal ideations. He is making final plans, writing goodbye letters to the people he loves, hoarding medication, and even making dark jokes about “not yet” dying—eluding to it happening sooner rather than later. Each time he is ready to do it, something pulls him back in for just a little bit longer, this time solving his stepdaughter’s fiance’s murder. While Monk is experiencing this, everyone around him carries on as usual. Passing off all the peculiar happenings that they notice as Monk just being Monk. It was heartbreaking, not just because we as the audience see the scenes that the other characters don’t see, but also because I share this reality with him. 

“How often do I think about dying?” Every day. Like Monk, looking out of the window of a skyrise immediately brings images of me jumping to the forefront of my mind. I morbidly joke about minor inconveniences one day being my thirteenth reason, and I even find myself thinking more about my end-of-life plans and future desires for Ava should I not be here for her. 

Though we have a long way to go when it comes to conversations about mental health and suicide, I’m glad that pop culture is talking more about the very real reality some people face of having to move through life while constantly fighting the urge to end it. I’m happy to report that in the end, Monk found more than a temporary reason to keep him here, ironically solving the case as he is selecting a coffin for himself. And I continue to do so as well.

I hope that others who are where Monk and I are right now see themselves represented, feel seen, heard, and comforted, and also find one more reason to stay another day.