Review by Jon Donnis
Primate wastes no time setting its stall out. Director Johannes Roberts opens with a blunt, nasty prologue in rural Hawaii, where a veterinarian meets a gruesome end at the hands of a pet chimpanzee. It is an immediate statement of intent and a reminder that this film is not interested in subtlety. From that moment on, the film locks into survival mode and rarely lets up.
The story rewinds 36 hours to introduce Lucy, returning home after years away, alongside a group of friends whose relationships are already fraying at the edges. The location does a lot of heavy lifting. Lucy's family home, carved into a cliff face with an exposed infinity pool, is both striking and inherently threatening. Roberts understands the power of space, and the house quickly becomes a trap rather than a sanctuary.
At the centre of it all is Ben the chimpanzee, a family pet raised with unusual care and intelligence. Through soundboard software developed by Lucy's late mother, Ben is able to communicate in short phrases, which gives him an unsettling presence even before things turn violent. Once rabies enters the picture, the film leans hard into feral horror. Ben becomes unpredictable, cruel, and frighteningly physical. The performance work and effects make him the undeniable star of the film. Every appearance crackles with tension, and his slasher-like method of picking off the group one by one is executed with savage enthusiasm.
Roberts and co-writer Ernest Riera keep the storytelling brutally simple. There is very little interest in expanding the mythology or pausing for emotional depth. Instead, the focus is on pressure, movement, and escalation. The extended pool sequence is a standout, using Ben's fear of water to create a cruel standoff that feels both inventive and claustrophobic. The kills are gnarly, efficient, and unapologetically mean spirited, firmly placing Primate in B-movie territory with a decent budget behind it.
The cast largely exists to be hunted, but they serve their purpose well enough. Johnny Sequoyah gives Lucy enough grounding to keep the film from becoming completely hollow, while Troy Kotsur brings a welcome seriousness as Adam, the deaf father whose delayed realisation of the danger adds another layer of tension. The film's final moments, particularly the chilling use of Ben's soundboard, land with a nasty little sting rather than emotional closure.
That said, Primate is built almost entirely from familiar horror beats. Every cliché is here, from the isolated location to the doomed side characters making questionable decisions. The film knows this and does not try to disguise it. If you are looking for originality or depth, you will not find much. The narrative is sparse, sometimes barely holding together, and the film relies heavily on momentum to stop you from questioning it.
Fortunately, the short runtime works in its favour. At under 90 minutes, Primate moves too quickly to outstay its welcome. It is uncomplicated, visceral, and designed to be consumed in one breathless sitting. The lack of story becomes part of the appeal rather than a flaw, provided expectations are kept in check.
Primate is a blood curdling, efficient slice of natural horror that knows exactly what it is. It is all horror, very little story, and just enough invention to keep things entertaining. For fans in need of a fast, nasty fix, it more than does the job.
I score Primate a generous 7.5 out of 10.
Out Now - https://apple.co/4pyarJY
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