Primate Review: Rabid and Ready to Rip

I don’t remember the last time a movie genuinely scared me. Jump scares, sure. Tension, absolutely. But real, primal fear? That’s rare. Primate got under my skin in a way I wasn’t expecting, and maybe it’s because I have a recurring dream about having my face ripped off. The constant threat of exactly that happening over 89 relentless minutes made director Johannes Roberts‘ vicious little creature feature the best first movie experience I could have asked for in 2026.

The film opens with chaos already underway, then rewinds 36 hours, a structural choice that feels less like a gimmick and more like an insurance policy against our increasingly distracted attention spans. We need that early jolt because what follows requires patience. Lucy (Johnny Sequoyah) returns home to Hawaii after going away for college, reuniting with her younger sister Erin (Gia Hunter), her deaf father Adam (Troy Kotsur, CODA), and Ben, the chimpanzee her late mother raised as part of her research. There’s grief hanging over this household, unspoken but present, and Roberts takes his time letting us feel it before everything goes sideways.

Though allowed to roam free in the house, Ben has a cage outdoors, and that’s where a mongoose bites him, setting off a deadly chain of events. The mongoose is sent away for testing and eventually comes back positive for rabies. As an amusing touch, a character observes that Hawaii is entirely rabies-free thanks to strict quarantine measures. The observation is never mentioned again, though in all honesty, it doesn’t need to be. We already know where this is headed, and when rabies takes hold, Ben’s hydrophobia transforms the cliffside pool from a backyard oasis into the only safe zone from a very angry primate afraid of the water.

Roberts knows this territory well. Previously directing 47 Meters Down, its sequel, and The Strangers: Prey at Night, he knows how to trap characters in impossible situations. Here, the cage is a swimming pool, and the threat is a 150-pound chimp who can tear limbs from bodies. The Cujo comparisons write themselves, but Roberts and co-screenwriter Ernest Riera also layer in John Carpenter‘s DNA. Adrian Johnston‘s pulsing, synth-heavy score hums with ’80s menace and also draws on Carpenter’s iconic work.

Suspense is critical, and editor Peter Gvozdas keeps the tension thick without letting the pacing slack. Best of all is watching cinematographer Stephen Murphy capture several shots that might remind viewers of a certain famous Jack Nicholson horror film. This is particularly apparent when Ben slowly peers through closet slats at cowering victims. You could have heard a popcorn kernel drop in our theater.

What elevates Primate beyond its creature feature premise is how seriously everyone takes the material. Sequoyah makes Lucy an engaging lead worth rooting for, filling in the script’s logistical gaps with a fully realized performance. Having Oscar-winner Kotsur as the father opens accessibility in clever ways, allowing Roberts to play with the absence of sound during suspenseful sequences while giving the cast opportunities to communicate in ASL. It’s representation that serves the story rather than feeling tokenistic.

Jessica Alexander (A Banquet) brings a welcome bite as Hannah, often the voice of uncomfortable reason. Charlie Mann and Tienne Simon arrive late to the party as two guys the friends met on a plane, stumbling into a nightmare neither could have imagined. When characters die, the film lingers on the devastation rather than rushing to the next kill. You feel the weight of each demise.

But the real magic is Miguel Torres Umba as Ben. The physicality required to sell a rabid chimpanzee through practical effects and performance is staggering, creating a genuinely terrifying antagonist. As the virus progresses, Ben transforms from well-groomed family pet to something monstrous, a feral nightmare foaming and snarling with convincing menace. The intensity makes CGI alternatives feel like cowardice.

Yes, there are logic holes. The lights stay off the entire time for reasons never explained. Phones ring at the most inopportune moments and never work when they need to. Silent escapes are interrupted by a foot triggering obnoxious noisemaking devices. Rabies doesn’t even exist in Hawaii! But Roberts lays such an elaborate blanket over these gaps that you barely notice you’re walking on thin rationale.

Built as a scare machine meant to be experienced with theatrical sound and projection, Primate recalls those communal moviegoing moments when audiences scream together and heads snap back at something lunging from off-frame. It’s ferocious, funny in spots, and doesn’t pull punches with its practical gore. You can nitpick it afterward over drinks. But while you’re watching? You’re just trying to survive alongside everyone else. Sometimes that’s exactly what you want from a night at the movies before returning to your chimp-free life.