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All Gore, No Monkeying Around: PRIMATE Delivers Killer-Chimp Chaos

By. Professor Horror

    Horror has always loved its monsters, whether they come wrapped in sheets, stitched together from spare parts, or lurking in the shadows with a knife. But sometimes the scariest thing is an animal that feels just a little too close to reality, and PRIMATE knows exactly how to weaponize that discomfort. This is a movie that proudly belongs to the “when animals attack” tradition, rubbing shoulders with Jaws, The Birds, and Arachnophobia, but it also understands how to have a blast doing it. There’s a grim plausibility baked into the premise, since the threat here is not magic or curses but rabies, which immediately grounds the chaos in something disturbingly real. Some horror fans might wrinkle their noses at a killer-animal setup and wish for ghosts or demons instead, but PRIMATE is too energetic and vicious to dismiss. It barrels forward with a wicked grin, fully aware that watching a chimpanzee lose control inside a family home is both horrifying and darkly exhilarating. This is not a movie that tiptoes around its concept; it grabs it with both hands and starts flinging…blood.

 

    Directed by Johannes Roberts, PRIMATE relocates the creature feature into a deeply personal space and then gleefully turns that space into a slaughterhouse. Ben is an ASL-using chimpanzee who lives with his human family and is treated like a beloved child and sibling, and the film makes sure you feel that warmth before things go sideways. There is something immediately charming about watching Ben exist in this household, responding to signs, interacting with his people, and being included rather than contained. One of the film’s most disarming moments comes early, when Ben is seen playing with a teddy bear, and even if you know exactly where the story is headed, it is impossible not to let out a soft “awww.” That sweetness is not accidental, and it makes what follows sting all the more. PRIMATE wants you emotionally invested before it goes bananas, and it succeeds with alarming ease. By the time violence erupts, the loss of that domestic comfort hits almost as hard as the gore.

 

    Set against the lush scenery of Hawaii, the film centers on a family home that quickly transforms from paradise into a pressure cooker. Lucy returns home from college (Johnny Sequoyah) still carrying the weight of her mother’s death, and her strained relationships with her sister Erin (Gia Hunter) and her friends fill the opening stretch with simmering tension. Roberts leans into teenage drama here, stacking resentments, jealousies, and emotional landmines like kindling. There is a deliberate patience to this setup, allowing personalities to clash and bonds to fray before the real nightmare begins. When their father Adam (Troy Kotsur) leaves town for work, the isolation becomes complete, and the house starts to feel less like a refuge and more like a cage. The film uses this intentional build to its advantage, lulling the audience into a sense of familiarity before tearing it apart.

 

    What makes the rabies angle especially effective is how seriously the film treats it, even as Ben’s shift into violence comes frighteningly fast. He doesn’t linger in a long, drawn-out decline; instead, his behavior changes with an unnerving abruptness that feels true to sudden medical catastrophe. One moment there is confusion and agitation, the next there is an edge to his movements that signals something is deeply wrong. Small gestures of affection sour almost immediately, snapping into hostility before the family can fully register what they are seeing. PRIMATE doesn’t stretch this transition for melodrama, and that speed is precisely what makes it so unsettling. The violence arrives before anyone is ready, denying both the characters and the audience the comfort of preparation. By the time Ben fully snaps, the shock has already landed, and the horror comes from realizing how quickly something familiar can become lethal.

    Once the blood starts flowing, PRIMATE stops pretending to be polite and fully commits to carnage. Roberts clearly understands the joy of a good practical effect, and the film delivers skull-crushing, face-shredding mayhem with unapologetic enthusiasm. There is a particularly savage visual gag involving a jawbone that had my entire theater laughing in horrified delight, the kind of moment that reminds you why seeing horror with a crowd is such a pleasure. The gore is big, messy, and tactile, and the camera never flinches or scolds the audience for enjoying it. This is a movie that knows exactly how mean it wants to be and leans into that instinct with both hands. There is no…monkeying around when it comes to the kills, and the lean runtime keeps everything moving at a brisk, brutal pace.

 

    Ben himself is a standout achievement, especially for viewers exhausted by weightless digital creatures and uncanny CGI animals. If Gordy in Nope unsettled in part because he drifted too far into the uncanny valley, more symbolic than truly threatening, Ben lands in a far more dangerous sweet spot. Built with an impressively detailed suit and animatronics, he toes the line between reality and fiction so precisely that the illusion never breaks. His movements have heft and purpose, never sliding into cartoonish exaggeration or goofy animal behavior. As the rabies takes hold, any trace of warmth drains away, replaced by twitchy, unpredictable aggression that feels alarmingly real. Because Ben physically shares the frame with the actors, the attacks feel immediate and raw, not assembled in post-production. It becomes easy to forget there is a performer inside the suit rather than a real animal tearing through the house, and that tactile presence gives PRIMATE a visceral edge many modern creature features simply cannot match.

 

    The film also deserves real credit for its thoughtful Deaf representation, which is woven seamlessly into the story rather than highlighted as a novelty. Adam’s Deafness is not treated as a hurdle or a gimmick, but as a natural part of the family’s daily life. Ben’s ability to communicate through ASL is established early, reinforcing his place within the household and deepening the emotional bond between them. This shared language adds an extra layer of intimacy to their relationship, which makes its collapse all the more devastating. When Ben turns violent, it is not just a physical threat but the destruction of a form of communication built on trust and care. The film never exploits this dynamic, instead letting it quietly amplify the tragedy beneath the chaos. It is a rare example of representation that enriches the horror rather than distracting from it.

 

    At its core, PRIMATE is a movie designed to be watched with a crowd that loves blood, screams, and shared gasps. It takes its premise seriously without smothering the fun, and it never apologizes for being loud, nasty, and gleefully excessive. The pacing stays sharp once the chaos kicks in, the kills land hard, and the audience reactions feel like part of the experience rather than an afterthought. This is the kind of movie where laughter and screams blur together, where one brutal moment can send a ripple of delighted horror through the room. Whether you are there for the creature-feature thrills, the practical gore, or the simple joy of watching things spiral wildly out of control, PRIMATE delivers. It hits theaters on January 9, and it is best experienced on a big screen with a packed audience who are ready to handle a chimp that has truly lost its grip.

 

If you want "When Animals Attack" films, check out our review for COYOTES which was released in 2025. 

 

And for more PRIMATE coverage, check out Grubby Cole's review of the film HERE