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Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster,sex videos of women who love deepthroat Frankensteinis a 32-minute Netflix movie that defies reason.

It begins with its name, Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein. It's an unreasonably cumbersome Monster-on-Frankenstein sandwich that immediately alienates and turns away what I can only imagine are the vast majority of Netflix subscribers and their freeloading friends and family members, who use the service to watch movies and TV shows that have mostly already been deemed acceptable and enjoyable by the court of public opinion.

The 32-minute production, which I’ll call FMMFfor my own sanity, begins with Stranger Thingsactor David Harbour monologuing about his fictitious father, David Harbour Jr. Harbour Jr. was an actor and producer of dramatic televised theater, and Harbour III is searching for answers about his father’s murky past.

Immediately, there are threads of humor poking out from this twisted, tangled blanket, but none of them are long enough to grasp. It feels almost absurdist, but from the outset there’s really nothing absurd about it.

As we learn, Harbour Jr. produced and starred in a televised play called Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein, and Harbour III asks the question: “Why this play?”

But what we’re really left to wonder is, “Why this question?”

And, furthermore, “Why does this whole thing exist?”

The allure

When I learned that FMMFwas 32 minutes long, I relished the thought of watching and possibly enjoying a piece of content that existed in its own tiny world, easily consumed in a span of time that’s roughly 10 minutes shorter than my daily commute.

FMMFcannot be binged because it stands alone. There’s only one episode. It’s an easy task to complete.

FMMFrequires no prerequisite viewings because it’s not a part of a series or decade-spanning universe of movies. Jumping into it is as easy as clicking play.

FMMFdoesn’t ask for hours of your time because it is only 32 minutes.

FMMFhas no hype around it, swaying opinions this way or that, because it has no established fan base and even those who think they might like it based on the trailer really have no firm grasp on what to expect.

We live in a world where every piece of content comes with baggage. New Marvel and DC movies exist within well-established universes. There are diehard fans that will love and fight for every new entry like it's their own kin. There are diehard haters that will spew vitriol at every new entry like it's trying to kill their own kin.

There are 10 Star Wars movies and more keep coming. Disney is pumping out live-action remakes of their beloved animated films as if its life depends on it. J.K. Rowling keeps revealing new things about the world of Harry Potter. Shows and movies are being reimagined and remade left and right.

It’s exhausting, and what used to be a leisurely activity known as “watching” movies and TV shows has morphed into a laborious crusade of “keeping up.”

With FMMF, I signed up for what I thought would be a fun half hour of comedy, no strings attached. What I got was the most aggressively obtuse piece of audiovisual media that I’ve ever experienced.

Utterly baffling

If I had to compare FMMFto something that already exists, it would be Synecdoche, New York, a completely unenjoyable movie that people are more apt to “appreciate” rather an actually “like.”

The problem with this comparison is that FMMFis, I think, actually funny and enjoyable to some degree.

Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankensteinis about David Harbour III’s pursuit of information about his father, David Harbour Jr., and why he created the televised play Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein, which is itself blurring the lines between fiction and reality while simultaneously commenting on the principles of acting and story structure.

Every step of the play and thus the movie defies expectations.

The play introduces who we’re led to believe is Dr. Frankenstein, who makes the common mistake of referring to Frankenstein’s monster as just “Frankenstein,” which is quickly pointed out to him. He corrects himself.

We’re made to believe Harbour Jr. is playing Frankenstein’s monster, but it turns out he’s actually just pretending to be the monster but is in fact Dr. Frankenstein, and the young actor who was pretending to be Dr. Frankenstein is actually Frankenstein’s assistant, Sal, and the two are staging a ploy to obtain funding.

By the end of the movie, David Harbour (the real-life actor) plays roughly seven different roles if you count the roles that the character Harbour Jr. plays in the TV play and commercials.

Every central tenet of FMMFtends to turn out to be false. Despite his insistence on declaring, “And that’s how I got into Juilliard,” Harbour Jr. never went to Juilliard. Despite Harbour Jr.’s reverence for the craft of acting, he’s actually terrible at acting. For a minute, it seems like Harbour Jr. killed his co-star, Joey Vallejo, but it’s quickly shot down.

The non-absurd absurdity lends itself to some clever twists. A gun from the first scene of the play, literally referred to in the play as Chekhov’s gun, is brought up time and time again. Even when it’s not in scene, the gun is referenced by the sponsor Chekhov Guns & Ammo (with the tagline, “You’re gonna fire it”). It’s the most obvious setup in the movie, which makes it feel too obvious. There’s no way this gun goes off.

The gun goes off four times.

We’re left wondering whether Dr. Frankenstein is actually Dr. Frankenstein or if he’s Frankenstein’s monster, who was made in the likeness of Dr. Frankenstein. Harbour Jr. plays both roles and there's no clear answer as to which on he is at the end.

Nothing is wrapped up nicely. Harbour III’s pursuit of anything tangible about his father, a comforting blanket of knowledge about the man who helped bring him into the world, wraps itself uncomfortably around his body, becoming more twisted with each passing minute.

We’re left with an ill-fitting and confusing shroud made up of dozens of threads, each one seemingly leading nowhere and none of them coexisting comfortably next to each other. It’s a mess, but at the same time, there are enough funny fibers within it to sustain enjoyment.

But why?

At the end of Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankenstein, we’re left with the same question we had at the beginning. Why is David Harbour III asking about why the televised play was made? It’s very obvious why Harbour Jr.'s play was made right from the start — because he wanted to make a play that showcases his talent — and all attempts to delve deeper into it are immediately squashed by truth.

That other nagging question, why does this movie exist, is only emboldened by the contents of FMMF.

FMMFfeels like a test. Director Daniel Gray Longino and writer John Levenstein seem to have given themselves a challenge: “How confusing and obvious can we make a movie while still being funny?”

The strangest thing about FMMFis that balance of confusion and obviousness. I can’t get over how it manages to be both extremely predictable and also full of odd twists. Andit’s really funny.

I’ve spent more than four hours writing about a 32-minute movie. I looked for something easy, a nice little content snack, but found myself mentally chewing through it like a stubborn piece of taffy that I equally like the taste of and would like to be finished with.

The end seems to set up that there’s more to explore, and part of me wants to see more, but part of me wants Frankenstein’s Monster’s Monster, Frankensteinto be a self-contained oddity.

There’s no elevator pitch for this movie. You can’t sum it up with a neat, marketable description. It seems to serve no purpose other than to exist as a sort of “fuck you” to other media.

Why did this movie get made? Howdid this movie get made?