Primate : When the Family Pet Becomes the Monster

Director: Johannes Roberts
Writers: Johannes Roberts & Ernest Riera
Producers: Walter Hamada, p.g.a., John Hodges, p.g.a., Bradley Pilz
Executive Producers: Vicki Dee Rock, Nathan Samdahl, Johannes Roberts, Pete Chiappetta, Anthony Tittanegro, Andrew Lary
Starring: Johnny Sequoyah, Jessica Alexander, Troy Kotsur, Victoria Wyant, Gia Hunter, Benjamin Cheng, Charlie Mann, Tienne Simon, Miguel Torres Umba
Rating: R
Runtime: 89 minutes
Release Date: January 9, 2026

From Cute Companion to Calculated Killer

From the trailer, Primate feels like a mash-up of the Gordy storyline from Jordan Peele’s Nope and the animal-terror tradition of Cujo, the kind of premise that could either deliver a murderous good time or collapse under its own ambition. Instead, the film lands as a welcome surprise: a throwback horror ride that’s equal parts tense, funny, and delightfully unhinged. Primate is the kind of movie audiences can enjoy now and feel nostalgic about years from today.

The story centers on teenager Lucy, her sister Erin, and their father Adam, a famous deaf author. They live in an ultra-modern Hawaiian home perched above the beach, complete with an infinity pool and postcard-perfect views. Their family also includes Ben, a chimpanzee who’s intelligent, gentle, and treated as one of their own. Harmony reigns, until Lucy invites her friends Kate, Hannah, and Nick over for a night of drinking and partying while Adam leaves for a book signing.

Then everything goes wrong…terribly wrong.

Ben is bitten by a rabid mongoose, contracts rabies, and transforms into a feral, murderous predator that goes into stealth mode. What follows is a nightmare for a group of unsuspecting teens trapped in a glass-and-steel mansion with a calculating animal that knows the house better than they do.

Dumb Teens, Communal Screams

These characters fit squarely into the lineage of “dumb teenagers in a horror movie,” and Primate fully embraces that tradition. I started out mildly annoyed by chatter in the theater—until I found myself yelling at the screen right along with everyone else. That’s part of the fun. The teens are so clueless and Ben so methodical that you can’t stay quiet. You’ll shout warnings, groan at bad decisions, and laugh at how inevitable it all feels. It’s a communal horror that is great for a movie-going experience.

A Rhythm of Terror

The pacing is just right, ebbing and flowing between moments of safety and extreme violence. Just when a character finds refuge, the film finds a way to draw them back into danger, either by luring Ben out or forcing a confrontation. It understands rhythm: tension, release, then fear creeping back in.

The performances are good across the board for a genre film, and each character feels distinct enough that you end up rooting for one more than the others. Lucy stands out as the emotional anchor—brave, resourceful, and deeply connected to Ben. But sentimentality doesn’t soften him. This is a chimp with a mission, and nothing—not even familiarity—gets in the way.

Ben, the Nightmare

Ben himself recalls Congo’s gray gorillas—unhinged, relentless, and genuinely terrifying. Those creatures haunted me for months as a kid, and Primate taps into that same primal fear. I was even reminded of Amy, the friendly gorilla from Congo who communicated through technology, only here it’s twisted into something far darker, with Ben using an iPad to make it clear that he plans to kill everyone. So cruel. 

The practical effects do heavy lifting here, enhanced by moody lighting that lets him lurk in shadows and peer around corners. The wrinkles and contours of his face are emphasized, making every close-up unsettling. He’s not just a threat—he’s a presence.

The film also sprinkles in affectionate nods to horror history. One standout moment has Ben thrusting his head through a closet door in a clear Shining homage, followed by a chilling close-up of his breath fogging the plastic garment cover as Lucy and her friend hide inside. 

Ben’s kills are brutal and savage, with a balance between shock and dark humor. There are moments where you’ll laugh as certain characters meet their demise, and others where you’ll wince, genuinely grossed out by what unfolds. The creativity behind these deaths might even make you think twice about ever angering a chimpanzee. I know I have. 

There are a few instances where the CGI slightly softens the impact, pulling you out of the moment just a bit. Still, it’s minor and doesn’t ruin the experience, think the early Final Destination films, where the effects weren’t always perfect, but the imagination and momentum kept you locked in.

One of the film’s most effective choices is how it plays with perspective. Whenever the story shifts into Adam’s point of view, the sound drops out completely, placing us inside the experience of a deaf character navigating chaos he cannot hear. It’s especially unnerving when Ben creeps up behind him—there’s no audio cue, no warning, just the feeling of knowing something terrible is inches away. If someone is being mauled in another room, Adam can’t hear it.

Small Flaws, Big Fun

Primate isn’t flawless. The biggest question is why Ben isn’t taken to the vet immediately after the bite, with the danger brushed off too easily. The teens’ lack of preparedness—no real tools, no real plan—can stretch credibility. And while the opening scene is engaging, a great start to the gore that is to come, but out of order the film follows and there is no warning. 

Still, these flaws feel minor in a film that understands exactly what it is.

Is It Worth Watching? 

Primate is cringingly gory in the best way. With comedy that nods to Scream and a menacing central creature, it keeps you on edge from start to finish. There’s no need to overthink it—this is horror as pure, pulpy fun, the kind an ’80s or ’90s fan would proudly claim. See it with friends. Yell at the characters together. Let the madness be part of the experience. I give the film a 7/10 for it’s attention to horror culture.