Editorials
‘Primeval’ – Revisiting a Flawed But Unique Killer Croc Movie
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.
Image: Orlando Jones and Brooke Langton’s characters run from danger in Primeval.
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.
Image: Gustave the killer Nile Crocodile appears in Primeval’s finale.
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.
Image: Brooke Langton, Dominic Purcell and Gideon Emery in Primeval.
Auteur Filmmaking is a term that gets thrown around a lot these days in reference to big name directors like Quentin Tarantino and even Wes Anderson, but the truth is that film is a collective medium, and no one person can be responsible for every single aspect of a particular production. However, the smaller a film’s budget, the bigger the individual impact of every creative decision behind it – and the easier it becomes to identify a genuine auteur.
This isn’t necessarily a judgement of value, as blockbuster filmmaking comes with its own challenges and a good movie remains a miracle regardless of how big the crew is, but I’ve always been more interested in soulful b-movies produced by handfuls of passionate artists than blockbusters backed by creative armies.
That’s why I love exploring low-budget franchises that never left the hands of their original creators, as you really get to know the artists involved with these flicks and can accompany their evolution over a period of time. With that in mind, I’d like to invite readers to join me in this multi-part series as we look into a vampire saga helmed by one of the most fascinating auteurs of the 1990s. Naturally, I’m referring to Ted Nicolaou’s criminally underrated Subspecies!
The Birth of an Unlikely Horror Franchise
A proud graduate of the University of Texas’ Film program, Nicolaou got his start in the industry as a sound technician working on Tobe Hooper’s original Texas Chain Saw Massacre. From there, the filmmaker would go on to work for notorious indie producer Charles Band, the founder of both Empire Pictures and Full Moon Productions. According to Nicolaou, Band would usually contact him with an offer to direct a feature after more prominent filmmakers, such as the late, great Stuart Gordon, had already refused, meaning that his projects tended to have lower budgets and more inexperienced crew members.
The plans for Subspecies began almost immediately after the fall of Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu, with screenwriter David Pabian turning in an initial draft of the film after a Romanian producer contacted Band and explained that Romanian tax incentives could cover the cost of film production there so long as Full Moon took care of the post-production process. Since Stuart Gordon was unwilling to travel to Romania, Ted Nicolaou ended up taking over the picture.
However, while the financial incentives meant that this Romanian-American co-production could look and feel much more expensive than it really was, with Nicolaou scouting for locations in advance and selecting real castle ruins to be featured in the movie, the director was soon faced with an incredibly difficult shooting process. In interviews, Nicolaou would later describe the experience as something of a nightmare, with language barriers and the generalized distrust of capitalist outsiders sabotaging many of the team’s plans for the film.
In fact, the script, which had already been altered by Band, ultimately had portions of it rewritten by both Jack Canson and Nicolaou himself in an attempt to adapt the story to their unique limitations.
Radu Is One of Horror’s Greatest Underrated Villains
In the finished film, which was released directly to video in 1991, we follow a pair of American anthropology students, Michelle (Laura Mae Tate) and Lillian (Michelle McBride), as they reunite with their Romanian colleague Mara (Irina Movila) in her native land. The group intends to study the folklore surrounding the secluded town of Prejmer, but their research is cut short by the return of Radu Vladislas (Anders Hove) – the evil son of a vampire king (Angus Scrimm) who had previously established a truce with the region’s human residents. It’s now up to Radu’s human-loving half-brother Stefan (Michael Watson) to protect the girls from a fate worse than death as the power-hungry vampire seeks to control a magical artifact known as the Bloodstone.
Right off the bat, you may have noticed that the film’s premise sounds decidedly old-fashioned when compared to other vampire movies from around the same time. While the 1990s saw the rise of cool-looking bloodsuckers with badass elements borrowed from Westerns, as well as the sexy aristocrats of Anne Rice’s stories, Subspecies has a lot more in common with Nosferatu and the Hammer Horror series than any of its contemporaries.
This is both a blessing and a curse, as the film falls victim to overly familiar genre tropes while also standing out as a rare example of a ’90s vampire flick that isn’t afraid to flex its muscles as a Creature Feature. In fact, I’d argue that the presence of age-old clichés is a small price to pay when confronted with one of the most compelling vampire antagonists in all of cinema.
Named after Vlad the Impaler’s real-life brother, Anders Hove’s Radu is such a fascinating character and the main reason why Subspecies is still worth watching 35 years later. From his animalistic mannerisms to the joy he feels in simply existing as a chaotic creature of the night, and that’s not even mentioning the iconic makeup that almost certainly inspired the undead from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Radu is a hypnotic presence harkening back to a time when audiences didn’t mind purely evil villains that couldn’t be redeemed through tragic backstories or sex appeal.
Gothic Atmosphere on an Indie Budget
Of course, the film’s Romanian setting and authentic art direction do a lot of the heavy lifting whenever Radu isn’t around. From the masked festivals of the village to the visually interesting selection of local extras, Subspecies’ multicultural elements help it to stand out when compared to similar flicks from the ’90s.
That being said, Nicolaou’s unique eye for special effects and exciting action sequences – as well as Vlad Paunescu’s excellent cinematography – make the movie a delight for fans of expressionist cinema and old-timey gothic horror. While the crew is obviously dealing with limited resources, many of the flick’s blemishes (such as the odd stop-motion demons that serve Radu) end up feeling more like charming idiosyncrasies than actual flaws.
I’d argue that the only real issue here is pacing, as there are long stretches of film where the protagonists are simply bumbling around without realizing what’s really going on around them. Thankfully, the gorgeous visuals and surprisingly effective soundtrack usually make up for this. Besides, how can you dislike a movie where shotgun shells are loaded with rosary beads and our lead vampires duke it out in a dramatic swordfight that would feel out of place during the golden age of Hollywood?
Your overall enjoyment of Subspecies will mostly depend on whether or not you find low-budget corner-cutting and janky practical effects charming rather than distracting, but I know I’ll keep coming back to this Full Moon feature again and again in the future.
That being said, while this first movie is worth revisiting by its own merits as the birth of an indie horror icon, I’d like to invite you to join us as we look into the cult sequel Bloodstone: Subspecies II soon.
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