Primate is an inarguably silly movie and yet it leans into that silliness in just the right way. Though it never actually turns into meta commentary or self-parody, you still get the feeling that all involved, starting with director and co-writer Johannes Roberts, knew this should be a goofy good time. And crucially, Roberts also knew it would be best served as a goofy gory good time, delivering a movie far more brutal and graphic than the trailers have indicated, which helps make it an even more satisfyingly over-the-top experience. Seriously, they really should have gone with a redband trailer for this one to more properly sell what it has to offer!
Roberts sets the bar with the film’s in medias res opening, which includes a rather fantastic and attention-getting moment of killer chimp violence that elicited unexpected early applause from the audience I saw it with. I wouldn’t be shocked if the decision to begin with this flash-forward was done in the editing room, because the actual story set-up that follows feels a bit too drawn out for this type of movie. And yet the promise of that opening lingers over everything, as an assurance that we shouldn’t worry; the reason we’re all here is on its way and it’s going to deliver.
The eventual killer in question in the story is Ben, a domesticated chimp living alongside popular author Adam (Troy Kotsur) and his daughters, Lucy (Johnny Sequoyah) and Erin (Gia Hunter), in their beautiful cliffside Hawaiian home. Lucy is just returning home after a long absence in the wake of her mother’s death, with a bit of backstory about her mom being a linguistics expert to explain how Ben came to live with them. If Primate is trying to suggest why you shouldn’t domesticate an animal like Ben, it’s only there as background rather than anything overt or meaningful, but that’s fine for this type of movie. Ben is a loving part of the family until he’s not, and though we get a quick glimpse of the chimp as the sweet-natured guy he always was until now, the movie’s tone ultimately goes to extremes that don’t ask us to cry about the tragedy of what’s happening so much as cheer on the mayhem like we would in a slasher film. If you sometimes end up still feeling Team Ben, well, that makes sense too, because he’s just giving the crowd what they want.
