Imagine a slasher movie where college kids battle a rabid pet chimp, blending heart-pounding terror with absurd humor—sounds wild, right? But here’s where it gets controversial: Primate isn’t just a mindless gore fest; it’s a twisted reflection on humanity’s relationship with animals, and not everyone will agree on its message. Let’s dive in.
If you’re a child of the ‘70s, you might recall the bizarre ABC series Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp, a pre-PETA fever dream featuring chimps in human disguises fighting crime. Think Get Smart! meets the animal kingdom, complete with a groovy band called The Evolution Revolution. It’s the kind of show that makes you question your childhood sanity. And yes, I couldn’t help thinking about it while watching Primate—though not just because of its simian star. The nostalgia was real, but so was the unease.
Primate, directed by Johannes Roberts (known for the 2017 thriller 47 Meters Down), swaps out real chimps for a human actor in a monkey suit. Miguel Torres Umba, a movement and mime specialist, brings Ben the chimp to life with convincing physicality—though the prosthetics occasionally evoke the bizarre headgear from 2024’s Better Man. Suspension of disbelief? It’s a stretch, but Roberts and co-writer Ernest Riera lean into the B-movie playbook with gleeful abandon.
The setup is classic monster movie fare: college kids Lucy (Johnny Sequoyah) and Kate (Victoria Wyant) unwind at Lucy’s father’s luxurious Hawaiian cliffside home. Enter Hannah (Jessica Alexander), the pushy third wheel who stirs up romantic rivalry and interpersonal drama. Add two rowdy frat boys, Drew (Charlie Mann) and Brad (Tienne Simon), and you’ve got a recipe for chaos. But all the bickering fades into the background when Ben, the family’s pet chimp, goes berserk after a mongoose bite.
And this is the part most people miss: Primate isn’t just about jump scares and gore (though there’s plenty of that). It’s a commentary on the consequences of human intervention in animal lives. Ben’s transformation from beloved family member to ruthless killer is a stark reminder of the wild instincts we often ignore. Yet, the script falls short of exploring Ben’s plight with depth, leaving audiences to grapple with their own empathy—or lack thereof.
The film’s setting in rabies-free Hawaii adds a clever twist, though the authorities’ lackluster response to the outbreak raises questions. Meanwhile, the characters’ shallow development makes it hard to invest emotionally, though moments like Adam (Troy Kotsur), a deaf writer, returning home unaware of the danger lurking behind him, are genuinely tense.
Primate delivers on its promise of thrills, with nods to classics like The Shining and Cujo. But it’s the unanswered questions that linger: What do we owe animals we’ve domesticated? And when their instincts turn deadly, who’s really to blame? Is Ben a monster, or just a victim of circumstance?
Love it or hate it, Primate is a wild ride—equal parts ridiculous and thought-provoking. But here’s the real question: Where’s the love for Ben? Let’s debate in the comments.
