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[REVIEW] Fantastic Fest 2025: ‘Primate’ Is the Animal-Attack-Meets-Slasher Movie You Didn’t Know You Needed

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If that one scene in Nope (you know the one) wasn’t enough to convince you that owning a chimpanzee is a bad idea, Primate is here to remind you that these animals can literally rip you limb from limb. Directed by Johannes Roberts, who also co-wrote the script with Ernest Riera, the film is scheduled to release in January—and if it wasn’t on your radar before, allow me to firmly add it.

PSA: Primate Proves That Chimps Are Not Pets (But They Are Great Slasher Killers)

Primate begins with a pre-credits scene introducing us to the danger: a vet has been called to check in on a chimp named Ben that isn’t feeling so hot, only to discover the hard way that the super-strong animal has gone rabid. It’s an evocative opening, though it does create a little timeline confusion when we jump back in time a few days to follow Lucy (Johnny Sequoyah) as she returns home to Hawaii to see her family and their unusual pet.

Her late mother, we learn, worked with Ben for years before her death, and he remains a beloved member of the family, able to communicate most basic needs via the use of sign language and a special tablet. Ben is acting a little off, though, so Lucy’s father (Academy Award-winner Troy Kotsur, in a stand-out role) calls in the vet we’ve already seen die before heading out for the night.

Of course, we know that Ben has rabies, so it’s only a matter of time before he goes bananas. In the meantime, Lucy, her sister, and their friends get to living it up while they have the place to themselves. The family owns a gorgeous secluded mansion complete with a cliffside infinity pool, and if you’ve seen The Strangers: Prey at Night, you’ll know Roberts loves a pool. He quickly finds a reason to drive the young people into it and trap them there—but just because chimps can’t swim, that doesn’t mean they’re safe.

Blending Animal Attack Horror with Slasher Thrills in Primate

One of the biggest things going for Primate is its ability to blend classic animal attack horror with slasher elements. The film draws clear inspiration from Cujo, but where the Trentons were largely safe from the beast’s foaming maw (if not the sun) so long as they stayed inside their vehicle, Lucy and friends aren’t so lucky. As the tagline for Primate warns, Ben is “dangerously close to human,” which means he understands how to use tools and constantly finds creative ways to take a swipe at his prey whenever they and the audience let their guard down. The sicker the chimp gets, the more he seems to radiate a savage, all-too-human glee.

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At the same time, Roberts and Riera’s script leverages the communication gap between Ben and the family to devastating effect. Ben is so close to being able to tell them what’s wrong before his rabies progresses to the point of no return, but he doesn’t quite have the language. The fact that Lucy’s father is deaf adds an additional layer to the tragedy: we see how expressive the family is able to be through non-verbal communication, yet Ben is still isolated in his misery.

Toward the climax, however, even this form of communication starts to break down as the girls’ screams go unheard. While it feels like there’s more material that could have been wrung from this theme, it’s notable that Ben goes for the mouth more than once during his rampage, including in the film’s most memorable kill. In the end, maybe all communication is meaningless when nature decides to play a cruel prank.

Miguel Torres Umba’s Incredible Performance as Rabid Chimp Ben

This tragic aspect of the story doesn’t dampen the scares or thrills. Movement specialist Miguel Torres Umba, who portrays Ben, initially imbues the chimp with lovable warmth that makes his feverish, trembling intensity all the more frightening as the sickness takes hold. It’s a remarkable performance, one that lulls the audience into a similar state of wishful thinking to Lucy as she repeatedly reaches out to Ben in the hope that some part of the pet she loved is still in there. Primate rewards that desperate desire with brutal bites, bludgeonings, and beyond.

Primate Is a Lean, Mean, Face-Ripping Machine

Animal attack horror movies have trended hard toward sharks in the last decade (a world Roberts is no stranger to, having helmed 47 Meters Down and its sequel). It’s exciting to see a new addition to this subgenre focusing on a lesser-seen aggressor, especially one that doesn’t frame its killer creature as inherently evil, but rather a victim of both a natural blight and human foolishness. Ben should never have been put in the position he’s in—but now he’s here, it’s pulse-poundingly fun to see the damage that 100+ pounds of pure muscle can do when its brain is on fire.

Primate attacks theaters on January 9.

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Samantha McLaren is a queer Scottish writer, artist, and horror fanatic living in NYC. Her writing has appeared in publications like Fangoria, Scream the Horror Magazine, and Bloody Disgusting, as well as on her own blog, Terror in Tartan. If she's not talking about Bryan Fuller's Hannibal or Peter Cushing, she's probably asleep.

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Film Fests

The Horrors of Reproductive Health Inspired ‘Brian Won’t Wear Condoms’

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Reproductive health care is usually argued about, while the magnitude of it still somehow escapes politicians. These people make policies but don’t understand basic biology. They also think having ovaries makes us inferior to them for some random reason. In college, my friend shared her story about the abortion she got in a Kansas clinic with biblical pictures on the ceiling. She stared up into this Christian scene, which she didn’t believe in, as the doctor performing the procedure shamed her for her choice. 

After hearing that story, I was happy to join a different friend on a road trip to Colorado when she needed an abortion and wanted to escape a similar fate. Things were smooth until we got back to Missouri. She took her last dose of medicine and began bleeding out. We panicked and took her to the ER, where, in our fright, we told the truth and then watched the staff immediately become cold. We sat in the ER for hours with her bleeding. In the morning, they gave her a pad and sent us on our way, with no apology for making her do this in a public space. Whenever I think about how the staff treated my friend, crying and bleeding through her whimsical pjs, I get pissed. That was the last time I could pretend reproductive health matters in this country.

The Patriarchy Won’t Let Us Be Great

Being a woman is awesome, aside from the chokehold the patriarchy has on society. This especially blows because reproductive matters have been written off as women’s problems. This is sad, seeing how not everyone with ovaries identifies as a woman. This narrative also seemingly lets men off the hook for pregnancies that they are equally responsible for.  I’m not sure how we got here, and if the patriarchy will ever topple, but I love that we have so many filmmakers making art about these topics. Genna Edwards’ new short Brian Won’t Wear Condoms is one of those movies taking aim at how the patriarchy would have you believe men’s pleasure is more important than women’s health. 

Brian Won’t Wear Condoms is a very relatable premise that goes to some bloody heights. Kayla (April Consalo) watches as her friend Abby (Jordan Chin) tries a new contraceptive to appease her boyfriend Brian (Aaron Latta-Morissette). Brian doesn’t like wearing condoms and, like most men, thinks this is something Abby should figure out for his sake. So, when Abby starts acting differently, it’s Kayla who notices and starts asking questions. 

Reproductive Health Impacts Everybody

As with the stories I shared at the top of this article, and the stories I’m keeping to myself, Abby and Kayla’s dynamic is relatable. A friend with a boyfriend who doesn’t like condoms and won’t get a vasectomy is a tale as old as time. If you haven’t been the friend, then you have probably been the girl in the clown shoes risking your health. Many of us do this because we live in a society that tries to convince us that being a wife and mother is what AFABs are born to do. If that’s not our goal, then we’re called selfish. 

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Reproductive health and how cavalier men are about women’s safety were at the forefront of Edwards’ mind while working on Brian Won’t Wear Condoms.I got a Mirena IUD during Trump’s first term, when I was worried about what could happen to me if I got pregnant.Edwards continued,As a white woman of ample resources, I was and am at far less risk of what’s been happening all over the country – women dying because doctors won’t abort an ectopic pregnancy, women being kept on life support as incubators while brain-dead, teenagers forced to carry their rapist’s child. But I knew I didn’t want to get pregnant and that if I had to have an abortion, it would likely traumatize me.”

Make It Make Sense

Edwards shared,I was on the pill as a teenager, and it made me depressed, so I had been off of it for years, using condoms diligently. When Trump [took] office, it felt like I had no choice. Condoms aren’t always effective. The pill had already proven bad for me. What else was I supposed to do?Edwards pointed out,There are no birth control options for men – I wince thinking about that one trial that almost made it, but when men experienced even the slightest side effects (acne, weight changes, mood fluctuations that women deal with every day on the pill or patch) they shut it down.”

IUDs Aren’t Always the Answer

Like many of my friends who went the IUD route, Edwards’s pain was ignored, and things went badly. She said,During the procedure, the insertion was so painful I passed out. The doctors acted like this was totally normal and okay, to be expected. [They] gave me two Advil. I suppressed the trauma of the initial experience for years, until I tried to get a pap smear and realized I now fainted at the sight of forceps.”

“My IUD worked for a few years. At best, I forgot it was in there. I lost my period and felt a little bit like an alien. But no monthly blood? I’ll take it! Until a random day when I started having the worst cramps of my life. I waited for it to pass, thinking it was maybe just the pangs of myghost periods,as they call them, but it didn’t stop. It got worse.Edwards continued,There were days I couldn’t move, just laid curled up in my bed waiting for the pain to stop. [It was] like someone stabbing me repeatedly in the stomach. The hormones made me feel insane – I felt I was losing touch with myself, my body, reality. I don’t know how to truly describe it other than that I felt possessed.”

Ovaries Before Brovaries

Edwards flew home to get it removed. Her mother and her sister watched her pass out as she waited for her appointment. When she asked to keep the IUD after removal, she was denied. They threw it in the trash after the procedure. Meanwhile, she was given orange juice and told to take it easy for a few days. This is sadly the state of reproductive health in this country. So many people have stories similar to this. Doctors make a habit of ignoring women’s pain and telling them to suck it up. 

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They also prioritize hypothetical men over us, the people with the ovaries, talking to them face to face. As a kid from a large family, I knew I never wanted kids. So, I started asking for a tubal ligation as soon as I got on birth control at 18. Each doctor answered my question with,You might meet a nice man someday and regret that.No explanation of what the procedure costs, what possible side effects would be, etc. Another Missouri friend had to get her husband’s permission to get her tubes tied after a scary delivery of their daughter. Her doctors felt that risking her life once wasn’t enough. They required a man to sign paperwork that he was done breeding with her. In case I haven’t said it in a while, I really hate it here.

Turning Anger Into Art

Luckily, Edwards is also pissed and turning that rage into art.The anger I felt spurred me to write Brian. It wasn’t a long process at all. I had this realization about medical and societal gaslighting, and then this shit poured out of me like a faucet.She explained,I’ve had friends and lovers, and even strangers share similar stories with me. We’ve all had a man refuse a condom, or worst case, take one off mid-coitus. [That’s] a form of rape referred to colloquially asstealthing.” 

“So, it wasn’t just me I was writing this for. It was for all my family members and friends who’ve suffered for the sake of the male orgasm. Everything in our society, bending to male pleasure,Edwards stated. 

We are glad she did because reproductive health should be at the forefront of horror. Childbirth is body horror, and even those of us not using our ovaries for procreation have stories.

Brian Won’t Wear Condoms is currently making the festival rounds. Keep an eye out for updates on Edwards’ site.

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Film Fests

Another Hole In The Head: ‘Kombucha’ & ‘Weekend at the End of the World’

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Author’s Note: When this article was initially published, I had stated Weekend at the End of the World used AI. After an email from the film’s publicist and producer, I am updating that portion as we have been told they did not use AI in the creation of this film. Horror Press takes a hardline stance against the use of AI, generative or otherwise, and we will remain diligent on calling out its potential use and update where needed. We thank the crew behind this project for taking the time and clarifying how certain effects were created. It’s never our intention to punch down, but we owe it to our readers to be transparent and call out AI when we think we see it. However, this was not the case, and no AI was used in Weekend at the End of the World.

There is nothing wrong with a film festival that takes chances on films. Programming festivals seem like an incredibly tedious job that will always leave people underwhelmed, no matter how great the programming is. There are two films I screened at Another Hole In The Head that left me wanting more and questioning their inclusion within the festival. I’m sure these films worked for whoever picked them, but for me, they fell completely flat. And one of them was my most anticipated film from the festival.

Kombucha Review

Luke (Terrence Carey) is a down-on-his-luck musician who is stuck on the edge of recognition and nothing. His partner, Elyse (Paige Bourne), begs him to get a “real job” after his ex-band member, Andy (Jesse Kendall), mysteriously resurfaces with a too-good-to-be-true job offer. After taking this new job, Luke finds himself happy with the influx of money, but void of personal growth. His new boss, Kelsey (Claire McFadden), forces Luke to drink their company’s trademark kombucha, or else he’s out of a job. It turns out this mystery drink may just turn Luke into a shell of a man. Literally.

Kombucha was my most anticipated film screening at Another Hole In The Head. I was stimulated by the film’s description, which was described as Office Space meets Cronenberg. From that descriptor, I was expecting some pretty out-there comedic moments mixed with gnarly grossout scenes. Kombucha failed on both of those aspects. The film’s handful of jokes were fart and poop jokes that felt beyond out of place. (And this is coming from someone who loves fart and poop jokes.) On top of that, the film’s “Cronenberg” moments were few and far between.

Flat Visual Style Undercuts Kombucha’s Strong Concept

Co-writers Geoff Bakken and Jake Myers, and directed by Jake Myers, have an excellent concept on their hands. Even the film’s commentary hits perfectly. But the film’s bland writing takes the oompf out of the overall effect. I wanted much more from this film, visually. Matt Brown’s cinematography isn’t bad…it’s competent enough. At its core, this film just feels very by-the-college-textbook; dead-center framing with After-Effects-like handheld plugins make this film feel flat beyond belief. Some of the practical effects look good; unfortunately, I was checked out by that point.

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Weekend at the End of the World Review

Karl (Clay Elliott) is reeling from his ex-girlfriend’s proposal denial. His best friend, Miles (Cameron Fife), decides to take him to his deceased grandmother’s cabin for a best friends’ weekend. Once at the cabin, Karl and Miles find themselves in a world of trouble when they open a portal to another dimension. These two friends, along with their nosy neighbor, Hank (Thomas Lennon), must travel through strange worlds in order to save their own.

Thomas Lennon is Weekend at the End of the World’s Biggest Missed Opportunity

One of my favorite things about actors like Michael Madsen (RIP) and Thomas Lennon is how they use/used their fame and time to bring independent horror films into the limelight. While that trajectory made a bit more sense for Madsen’s career, it has been a delight to see Lennon pop up here and there throughout the past decade in horror. Most horror fans delight in seeing a big-name actor take the time and star in a film that helps bring credence to a genre that was once looked upon with disgrace. 

One of the two great things about Weekend at the End of the World was Thomas Lennon…and then they silenced him. Co-writers Clay Elliott, Gille Klabin, and Spencer McCurnin filled a script with teen-brained fart jokes in a way that feels lazy and cheap. Thomas Lennon’s ill-written character, who is nothing more than a punching bag for two characters who lack a single ounce of comedy or character, is (figuratively) castrated shortly into the film, and any sense of self the film had is then gone. While his character was flat, Lennon brought a sense of something to this empty film. 

MeeMaw’s Practical Effects Are a Highlight

The film’s other standout moment is the practical effects used on MeeMaw. So much has been done in horror, and creating a new viscerally icky character is hard to do. MeeMaw’s character (creature?) design is delightfully awful to look at. She could have easily become the film’s star and propelled this film to be something if it had been more interesting. But this film’s story is bland and recycled from other stories. 

I have so little to say about this film because it exists as an hour and a half of attempted flash, with little to nothing to add to the genre. The story is bland, the characters are flat, and the jokes will make a teenager laugh (before they inevitably go back to scrolling on TikTok). Full of D-grade visual effects that aren’t even fit for the year 2015, Weekend at the End of the World is an overall forgettable experience; it’s an apocalypse of entertainment…an exercise in futility. Not even Thomas Lennon or MeeMaw’s well-thought-out (and achieved) character design could save us from this…experience. 

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