It’s difficult to think of a worse horror movie than “Primeval,” partly because it’s barely a horror movie at all.

Ready for the serial killer thriller hinted at in the ads? Prepare yourself for a monster crocodile epic instead. OK… Ready for that monster crocodile epic? Guess again, because the filmmakers do another bait-and-switch by delivering a political screed about violence in war-ravaged Africa.


A friend pegged it perfectly: “Anaconda” by way of “Hotel Rwanda.”

“We create our own monsters,” says Tim (Dominic Purcell), the movie’s TV reporter hero. But is he talking about Gustave, the name natives have given to the plus-sized predator, or Gustave Jr., the African warlord who is slaughtering his neighbors?

Whatever. The movie isn’t intelligent enough to make the link, let alone put its characters in situations that are remotely plausible. Note to reporters: maybe a hut on stilts in the middle of the river isn’t the best place to try and hide from a 30-foot crocodile.

Note to TV news services: maybe send someone to cover stories in Africa that have at least a vague idea of the political situation there.

The performances are especially weak, even for a Z-grade thriller. TV actor Purcell is completely lifeless in the action and humor departments, not to mention clumsy bonding scenes with comely co-reporter Aviva (Brooke Langton).

Though he didn’t realize it while filming, Gideon Emory eulogizes Steve Irwin as a croc hunter with an Australian accent that wants to save the creature.

Not only unfunny as the comic relief cameraman, Orlando Jones delivers the most insensitive racial observations since “Borat.” Fed up with threats on his life from both man and nature, he makes the comic realization that maybe slavery was a good thing – anything to get a black man out of Africa.

With all this cutting up and political intrigue, the poor, computer-generated Gustave is practically reduced to a supporting player. Is it any wonder that he always looks so pissed off?