Products You May Like
While “based on a true story” is typically a ploy to lure in audiences, the basis of the 2007 movie Primeval does, in fact, exist. Or at least he did, at one point. The whereabouts of what many deem the “world’s most prolific killer” — a decades-old Nile crocodile named Gustave who allegedly claimed somewhere between 200 and 300 human lives — are murky nowadays. Some say Burundi’s most infamous reptile is long gone, and others demand proof of his passing. Regardless, Gustave’s notoriety lives on in this panned Hollywood creature-feature with a severe identity crisis.
Back then, it was understandable to have a cursory look at the original ad campaign for Primeval and not realize the movie is about a crocodile. An intentionally vague trailer led to complaints of deception from viewers; they were expecting a movie about a human serial killer. Imagine their surprise once they watched Primeval, which, for obvious reasons, was not screened for critics before its release. Bumping up the premiere by several months — to January, no less — also did not bode well. As anticipated, Michael Katleman’s directorial feature debut was chewed up and spat out by critics.
In cinema, 2007 was the year of the crocodile. Along with Rogue, Greg McLean’s much anticipated follow-up to Wolf Creek, was another Australian ripped-from-the-headlines saltie thriller called Black Water. However, both movies did not see a commercial release until after Primeval was rushed out by Buena Vista. Behind-the-scenes drama sank Rogue’s chance of a theatrical premiere in the United States, whereas Black Water slipped under the radar despite positive reviews. Needless to say, Primeval was the only one of this toothy trio to grace the American big screen. Critics did not miss an opportunity to note the small surge of croc horror that year, and a few did their damndest to steer potential viewers away from Primeval and toward Rogue (even with McLean’s sophomore pic being stuck in distribution hell). Nevertheless, the dissuasion was undue. As confused and uneven as Primeval turned out to be, the movie’s disreputation is not completely warranted.
The criticism of Primeval taking itself too seriously seems almost strange to hear these days. By and large, though, people still expect “nature’s revenge” horror to be silly and campy. The subgenre has its roots to consider, yet after so much frivolity from the Syfy side as well as the lingering effects of the postmodern horror wave, a straight approach for this kind of movie was good in theory. The execution, on the other hand, made Primeval not only difficult to digest but also tonally awkward.
The attempt to make Primeval an issue-film is far from perfect. Maybe even reckless. Worst of all, John Brancato and Michael Ferris’ bizarre and totally unsubtle script does not accomplish much of anything in the end apart from some inevitable white knighting. The political framing device does, at the very least, fatten up an otherwise anemic story. The basic concept of a TV network staging the capture of the legendary Gustave could have gone either way. After all, safe and undemanding is the norm for monster movies. It is the unconventional, not to mention questionable pairing of a maneater’s intrinsic horrors with the atrocities of a civil war that ultimately muddies the water. This is not the sort of exploitation that viewers signed up for.
As self-important as Primeval comes across, it does manage to be self-aware from time to time. The frequent scene-stealer and most likable character, a comical American cameraman played to the max by Orlando Jones, has a real way with words. Following the Gustave-related death of a British forensic anthropologist in Burundi, Jones’ character Steven sums up the movie’s inciting incident best: “You know what, this crocodile’s like O.J. Simpson; he messed up when he killed that white woman.” Vulgar, yes, but not too off the mark in this case. And when it comes to the indifference toward urgent domestic affairs in Africa, Primeval points a finger at the West. Funnily enough, the script is guilty of its own accusation. The constant prioritization of animals over human lives also comes up as the movie’s own resident croc hunter (Gideon Emery) states there are “more than enough human beings on this planet” and Gustave is of “greater value.” Mind you, he has the audacity to say this as genocide continues in Burundi.
Primeval could have very well been pitched as Lake Placid meets Blood Diamond. Although, this cocktail of bestial horror and political thriller is often more sobering than inebriating, especially when the American characters get mixed up with the Burundi warlord who goes by the nickname of Little Gustave (Dumisani Mbebe). Other movies would refrain from being so on the nose about their message, but Primeval lacks nuance. The metaphor here does not go unnoticed or unsaid as Dominic Purcell spoon-feeds it to both his co-star, Brooke Langton, and the audience. Upon learning Little Gustave’s victims wind up as meals for Big Gustave, Purcell’s character says with a straight face: “We make, create, our own monsters.”
Clumsy and unrefined as it may be as a political piece, Primeval moderately succeeds as a creature-feature. The movie’s insatiable centerpiece always leaves the audience wanting more during his meager appearances. Those run-ins with Gustave include implausible but exhilarating set-pieces that embody 2000s Hollywood excess. Due to an extensive and flagrant use of CGI — the movie ended up abandoning a practical animatronic during filming — Gustave resembles and acts like a mythical dragon more than anything tangible and existing in nature. The guttural roar in place of an authentic croc hiss evokes memories of the growling shark in Jaws: The Revenge, and Gustave’s ability to gallop across grasslands and crawl up and down the sides of a cage defies both credibility and physics. Still and all, more go-for-broke stunts and less bleak warfare for the sake of genre entertainment would have immensely benefited Primeval. When the movie leans into its cold-blooded antagonist’s predation, it is undoubtedly more satisfying.
Primeval remains polarizing all these years later. Admittedly, the opportunistic and misguided political element preoccupies way too much of the story, but several bright spots — namely Gustave’s flashy feats, Orlando Jones’ amusing if not indelicate turn, and the surplus of South African vistas — help raise the value of this widely panned monster romp. It can be argued that Primeval does too much for a movie of this caliber; it feels stuck between two genres. As a counterpoint, its flawed and messy ambition is still preferable to all the more routine crocsploitation movies currently swimming in existence.