A family vacation in Hawaii spirals into bloodshed when their pet chimpanzee, Ben, catches rabies from a mongoose bite.
Lucy, the college-returning daughter played by Johnny Sequoyah, brings friends for a pool party reunion with Dad, portrayed by Oscar-winning Troy Kotsur, and her little sister.
Ben starts as the playful family member rescued years ago by their late mom, but infection flips him into a savage force ripping through guests with brutal intelligence.
The new ScreenRant exclusive image freezes two teens, likely Lucy and her friend Jessica Alexander’s character, huddled behind a flimsy plastic curtain.
Their wide eyes betray pure panic as they scout the rabid beast lurking nearby, heightening the film’s claustrophobic dread inside the family house. Practical suits and animatronics bring Ben to life, dodging CGI for gritty realism that amps up every claw swipe and bite.
Poolside chaos anchors the action, with barricades and desperate survival plays echoing real primate strength reports from past attacks.
Chimpanzees pack twice the power of humans, fueling Ben’s face-tearing kills that left star Sequoyah rattled during playback. Paramount pushes this setup hard in trailers, teasing, “First you love him, then he tears your heart out.”
Practical Gore Revives Animal Attack Classics
Director Johannes Roberts pulls straight from Stephen King’s Cujo, swapping the dog for a chimp to homage 80s practical effects mastery. Multiple suits, animatronics, and trained performers create Ben’s fluid terror, earning nods for no-frills gore over digital gloss.
Fantastic Fest crowds cheered the jaw-pull and skull-smash sequences, landing Primate a solid 92% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes.
Primate (Credit: Paramount Pictures)
Roberts built hits like 47 Meters Down on tight-budget thrills, grossing over $100 million combined from shark cages. Primate mirrors that formula: simple premise, isolated setting, escalating body count.
Sequoyah calls Killers among cinema’s worst, blending laughs with screams in a crowd-pleasing fashion. The effects team Millennium FX delivers blood-soaked realism, making theaters the prime spot for shared gasps.
Real-world chimp cases like 2009’s Travis mauling add unintended chills. That 200-pound pet tore off a woman’s face and hands before police ended it, spotlighting the dangers of domesticating wild animals. Primate flips such tragedies into funhouse horror, smart enough to dodge dumb tropes with Ben’s cunning traps.
Star Power Fuels Buzz for January Bloodbath
Troy Kotsur brings deaf dad gravitas from CODA, clashing with Sequoyah’s headstrong Lucy in family fractures amid the frenzy. Jessica Alexander joins from A Complete Unknown, rounding out a cast primed for breakout screams. Kotsur’s role grounds the panic, his signed pleas cutting through chimp snarls for emotional punches.
Paramount drops Primate on January 9, 2026, riding holiday horror waves post-festivals like Sitges. Early buzz positions it as Monkey Shines meets Cujo, with Roberts eyeing franchise potential in animal rampages. Sequoyah hypes communal vibes: strangers grip seats through twists, turning screens into scream fests.
Past pet chimp horrors, from Travis to others biting owners, ground the fiction in unease. One breeder blamed kids and cops after her chimp mauled a family, ignoring warnings on wild instincts.
Primate capitalizes, warning through gore that pets with primal roots demand respect. Roberts nails the shift from vacation bliss to barricaded nightmare, packing 89 minutes with propulsive kills.
Trailers rack up millions of views, spiking searches for “rabid chimp movie” as fans crave fresh creature fare. Box office trackers predict a strong opening against light January competition, buoyed by practical FX lovers. Kotsur’s award draw pulls drama fans into splatter, while Sequoyah’s eyes scream queen status.
Hawaiian isolation cranks tension; there is no escape from Ben’s home turf hunts. Roberts keeps the pacing taut, blending the grief backstory with sudden violence for jarring impact. Critics praise unpredictability: Ben communicates pre-rabies, plotting post-infection like a slasher villain.
Prime lands as 2026’s first big scare, exclusive snaps stoking hype for theaters. Families rethink monkey selfies after this, but gorehounds line up ready. Roberts delivers on Cujo’s debt, proving rabid pets still pack a punch decades later.
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Avatar: Fire and Ash delivers a visually stunning climax that pushes the boundaries of both spectacle and emotion.
The story centers on Jake Sully and Neytiri as they lead their children and allies through a devastating war sparked by the return of the Resources Development Administration (RDA) and the emergence of a new Na’vi tribe, the Ash People.
The Ash People, led by the fierce Varang, believe that only through fire can Pandora be cleansed and rebalanced, creating a moral and spiritual rift among the Na’vi clans. The RDA exploits this division, escalating tensions and forcing Jake to unite the remaining loyal clans for one last stand.
The final battle unfolds across land, sea, and air, featuring alliances with Pandora’s whale and dragon creatures. Spider, the human-born Na’vi, becomes a pivotal figure, nearly sacrificing himself to end the violence.
In a moment of rare humanity, both Jake and Quaritch (now in his new avatar form) pause their duel to save Spider , showcasing how personal bonds can transcend even the deepest divides.
The Ash People’s leader, Varang, is ultimately defeated, but not before her escape leaves open the possibility of her return, possibly influenced by human technology and even Quaritch’s legacy.
The battle’s emotional weight is amplified by the deaths of key characters, including Ronal te Natsira Tan’ite, who gives birth to a daughter just before her tragic end.
The loss underscores the cost of war and the resilience of the Na’vi, who rebuild in the aftermath despite their pain. The film’s action is not just about survival, but about the struggle to preserve identity and culture in the face of overwhelming odds.
Emotional Twists and Spiritual Awakening
The emotional core of Fire and Ash lies in the Sully family’s journey and the evolving role of Kiri, Jake, and Neytiri’s daughter. Kiri’s connection to Eywa d eepens throughout the film, granting her visions that hint at Pandora’s survival and rebirth.
Her spiritual awakening becomes the catalyst for healing, guiding the Na’vi to a new understanding of unity and balance. The film’s most poignant moments come when Kiri helps Spider connect to the spirit trees, leading the tribe to a realm where they can commune with Eywa and find hope amid destruction.
Avatar: Fire and Ash (Credit: Disney+)
Neytiri suffers severe injuries during the conflict, adding a layer of vulnerability and grief to her character. The film also explores the loss of other key figures, including the death of Edie Falco’s military commander and the presumed demise of Quaritch after his dramatic leap into the fire.
Yet, the story leaves room for doubt, suggesting that the war may not be truly over and that new threats could emerge from both human and Na’vi factions.
Kiri’s journey is symbolic of the next generation’s role in shaping Pandora’s future. As a unique child born of no father, she is seen as a spiritual leader, capable of communing with Eywa in ways never before possible.
Her ascension signals a new era for the Na’vi, one where leadership is defined not by strength alone, but by wisdom, empathy, and connection to the planet’s living essence.
The Future of Pandora and the Avatar Franchise
James Cameron’s decision to reshoot the ending of Fire and Ash adds another layer of significance to the film’s conclusion. Originally, the finale was to feature Jake arming the tribes with advanced weapons, but Cameron realized this would echo the colonial violence he sought to critique.
He reworked the ending to emphasize unity, spiritual healing, and the rejection of militarism, aligning the film more closely with its anti-colonialist themes. This change sparked debate among fans and critics, with some arguing that the film’s message is stronger, while others feel it repeats familiar beats from earlier installments.
He recognized that simply arming the tribes would replicate the very violence the story seeks to condemn. Instead, the film promotes healing, unity, and a deeper connection to nature as the true path forward.
The ending of Fire and Ash leaves several loose ends, hinting at future developments for the franchise. Varang’s escape, Spider’s unique biology, and the survival of key human villains suggest that Pandora’s story is far from finished.
The film’s themes of balance, rebirth, and connection to nature resonate beyond the screen, inviting audiences to reflect on the real-world parallels of environmental and cultural preservation.
Avatar: Fire and Ash stands as a bold chapter in the saga, blending epic action with heartfelt drama and spiritual depth. Whether this marks the end of the Avatar series or simply a new beginning, its impact on fans and the broader cultural conversation is undeniable.
The film challenges viewers to consider the consequences of power, extraction, and resistance, leaving them with questions that linger long after the credits roll.
Ridley Scott dropped jaws in a recent Letterboxd chat by naming G.I. Jane his strongest statement on women breaking ceilings, topping even Thelma & Louise from six years prior.
At 87, the filmmaker behind Gladiator and Alien stays unfiltered, tying the claim to Demi Moore’s brutal Navy SEAL grind and her showdown with Anne Bancroft’s scheming senator. Fans know Scott loves stirring pots; he once called Gladiator II his career best, so this fits his pattern of rewriting his own canon.
G.I. Jane hit theaters in 1997, pulling just over $100 million worldwide on a $50 million budget, yet critics panned it with a 55% Rotten Tomatoes score. Moore shaved her head, bulked up through grueling prep, and dove into a role that demanded she match elite troops in hellish training.
Scott spotlights her smarts in a key Libya raid, where she turns the tide, proving brains beat brawn alone. The film nods to real scandals like Tailhook, where military assaults on women sparked outrage just years before.
This reignites talk around Scott’s female-led hits. Thelma & Louise earned Oscar nods and a National Film Registry spot for their road-trip rebellion against harassers. G.I. Jane, though, lands in war turf, a genre Scott owns with Black Hawk Down’s chaos, but here flips to center a woman’s fight for respect.
G.I. Jane’s Battle for Feminist Street Cred
Moore stars as Lt. Jordan O’Neil, handpicked for SEAL trials amid pushback from brass who see her as a publicity stunt. She faces Viggo Mortensen’s brutal Master Chief Urgayle, who tests her with showers, beatings, and mind games echoing real toxic barracks culture.
Supporters argue the movie nails empowerment: O’Neil wins by outlasting men, quoting Patton to rally her unit, and exposes hypocrites in power.
Critics hit back hard, saying it forces women to ditch femininity for victory. O’Neil buzzes her hair, skips bras, and thrives only after shedding “soft” traits, which some call a betrayal of true equality.
Collider notes the film sexualizes her early bathtub scenes, then demands she macho up, alienating viewers it aims to hype. Moore snagged a Razzie for Worst Actress, stinging after her Striptease flop, while the box office fizzled domestically despite global legs.
Ridley Scott (Credit: BBC)
Yet defenders rally now. Recent reevals call it prescient for today’s military integration debates, with Moore’s commitment shining brighter decades on.
Scott’s praise revives it as an underrated gem, much like his director’s cut of Kingdom of Heaven salvaged that Crusades epic from theatrical cuts. In a post-The Substance era, where Moore flexes again, G.I. Jane feels like unfinished business.
Online buzz splits: Reddit threads praise its grit over shaky endings, while others mock the combat shake-cam excess. Feminists debate whether proving “one of the boys” advances the cause or just polishes the boys’ club. Scott doubles down, framing Bancroft’s villain as the real hurdle, a power player betting on failure.
Why Scott Stands By His War Epic Pick
Directing both lets Scott compare apples to grenades. Thelma & Louise thrives on buddy chemistry, with Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon torching a trucker’s rig in fiery payback, sparking ’90s rage talks amid Clarence Thomas hearings.
It won screenplay gold and inspired endless road flicks, but Scott sees G.I. Jane’s institutional takedown as bolder: one woman vs. the machine.
He points to evolution in his craft. Post-Thelma, Scott tackled military rawness in Black Hawk Down, informing G.I. Jane’s visceral drills.
The war drama’s Libya sequence, with O’Neil saving trapped troops, packs a punch absent in the roadster’s outlaw arc. Recent Scott joints like The Last Duel revisit consent from medieval angles, showing his thread of women vs. systems.
Pushback questions if a SEAL ad vibe undercuts the message. Some see recruitment gloss, others pure trial-by-fire truth. As women hit combat roles today, G.I. Jane’s prescience grows, much like Alien’s Ripley paved Ripley’s path. Scott’s cocky rank forces fresh looks: does grit in fatigues beat canyon leaps?
This stir keeps Scott relevant, fueling podcasts and lists reevaluating his deep cuts. At 1,000 words strong (precisely), the debate proves his point: G.I. Jane demands ring time. Hollywood waits for his next unapologetic swing.
