Did a rewatch to practice my long form write-up skills, and it hopefully makes the case for anyone that saw it available on Shout Factory TV.
Everything about the general concept of this film is a bad idea, which is why it ends up as entertaining as it does. The trailer of the film (must-see viewing:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2tnp4QCKtk) promises lots of psychotic baboon action, and while it does deliver on that front if your idea of psychotic baboon action involves watching a baboon repeatedly slam into doors, the trailer doesn't let on the organizing principle: medical students running a LARP session that is, apparently, a way to get on the professor good side as he runs it as the game master (Roddy McDowall, trying to maintain what little dignity he had left in his career, agreed to star in a film where he plays the game master for a group of students LARP'ing and destined to be mauled by a baboon; let those words sink in). In the hands of exactly no one, there's nothing about that setup that sounds even remotely conducive to a captivating setting, so the film has to create a situation in which a killer baboon can go about disposing of the cast by having everyone lose their goddamned good sense. Every door is locked, the fire alarms are disabled, the only working phones are in one room in the building, the walkie talkies are altered as one-way communicators to the game master, and short-term memory loss is contagious. You would think that the film would stop short of people sauntering giddily into their dooms, but we even get a bit of that to go around by the conclusion, despite explicit warnings and opportunities to get the hell away. A baboon is certainly a credible threat, but a newborn rabbit has just as good a chance of killing off this group. And that's before we get into the fatal mistake of hanging all the dramatic weight on the shoulders of Christopher Atkins, so incapable of emoting properly and yet treats the material so seriously.
And that's exactly why it works. The film does so many things wrong on a conceptual level that their sheer quantity winds up making the film endearing and memorable for all the right reasons. Where can you find a film that takes itself seriously enough to have a character check the pulse of someone who has their face torn off? Someone whose ingenuity towards securing a fire extinguisher has them violently throwing a coffee mug into it, with the attached hammer to smash the glass of the case clearly in plain sight? What about trying to grab the attention of someone that's on the bottom of a seven-story building by throwing kitchen utensils and then marbles? The list is virtually endless, even before getting into the bizarre character quirks, like the overly effeminate programming guy or the girl who knows that the object of her affection is already in a relationship but still tries to make a go of it with a plan that hinges on him winning the game to see her dressed up in vaguely culturally insensitive clothing. And Christopher Atkins? His inability to emote properly winds up a valuable tool, as his bug-eyed intensity makes every scene he's in towards the end ones to be treasured, his commitment to solemnity too poorly considered to be taken seriously and far too amusing to not guffaw.
Does the film do anything right? I think it does, and a lot of it does have to do with them using a real baboon for their villain, which does give the film a proper tangibility to give him the proper danger level that would have been enhanced further if everyone wasn't a moron. The filmmakers here seem to throw everything they have on getting footage of him onto the screen, leading to some funny reaction shots that illustrate both the problem of using an animal not really made for acting can have, while also being admirable in establishing that we do indeed have a real McCoy that the film employs as often and frequently as it does. There are even some inspired shots here and there with the baboon, including a nice little pop-scare at the bottom of a bathroom stall door that helps sell the doom of the character that he's about to thrash. And for shots where they couldn't use the real thing, there's even some nice use of foreground at work, including a shot that you can see in the trailer that is undeniably striking without calling too much attention to whatever puppet that made it possible. It's moments like those that make you wonder what the directors could have done with the film if they weren't tied to such a wrongheaded screenplay, as it isn't hard to imagine a more effective killer baboon film than the one we got here.
But does anyone really want a better
Shakma? As I've typed this out, I don't think that the reputation it has would improve if it was a better film, as the colony of bad ideas creates a C. Montgomery Burns-esque biology where all of them don't harm the film because they're too busy competing against each for the honor that does it in entirely. There are just way too many bizarre moments played straight, too many stupid characters and too many botched attempts at dramatic emphasis to not have a rip-roaring good time at its expense, but it's a film that's also not one you can hate because it simply is too strange to come off as either self-knowingly smug or unknowingly incompetent for those to drag it down. As I feel,
Shakma must be this
Shakma in order for any of it to work at all, and while it's tempting to want a better killer baboon film, the question is does anyone need one when this is around? My own answer is no, and this is a film that truly needs to be treasured at its own expense.