Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes

One of the biggest surprises for me this year was Rupert Wyatt’s Rise of The Planet of The Apes, a film that I had steadfastly refused to see for weeks after its release: The Apes franchise is not a franchise I have ever loved (or even liked), the inclusion of James Franco seemed beyond-ominous to me (and the trailers seemed to support my suspicions), and the fact that 20th Century Fox was selling their film on the gee-whiz sight of an ape fighting a helicopter seemed—at the time—like the very definition of absurd to me. Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for me to eat some serious crow: Rise of The Planet of The Apes is one of the year’s best films, a rare combination of “good ideas” and “holy crap” special effects that completely changed my opinion of what this franchise could be. You should see it, but first, read on for my full review, after the jump.
In case you skipped the film when it was in theaters (and, believe me, I get it, but ignore your instincts), here’s the setup: Rise of The Planet of The Apes is basically the origin story for the Planet of The Apes franchise. A scientist by the name of Will (Franco, known in some nefarious circles as “Dicknose”) is working on a cure for Alzheimer’s– primarily through the use of futuristic-looking PowerPoint presentations and the art of jabbing monkeys with needles—when he makes a startling breakthrough: a new medication/compound that erases the effects of the disease while increasing brain capacity. The company he works for loves the sound of all this, but just as he’s about to finally convince the head honchos that his new drug is one worth mass-producing, one of Will’s apes goes, uh, apeshit and runs amok inside the drug company’s headquarters, injuring several workers and destroying dozens of fancy-looking chairs. Because this drug company is—in the tradition of all great drug companies in sci-fi movies—greedy and evil, they immediately deny Will the chance to continue working on his wonderdrug and order that all the apes be destroyed.
Will has his assistant murder all the other apes (note to self: “murder” might be a strong word-choice there; come back later and change that), but decides that one of the apes is worth saving. He takes it home, introduces it to his Alzheimer’s-ridden father (John Lithgow, simultaneously awesome and kinda-hammy), and decides to keep it as a pet. Meanwhile, he starts giving his father some of this cure he’s been working on, and—in very short order—his Alzheimer’s starts to regress. It does, in fact, seem to disappear overnight. Thing is, the drug company’s still bent outta shape about that whole “ape running amok” thing, so Will continues to try and convince them to reconsider while A) enjoying life with his newly-cured father and B) raising the ape—now named Caesar—on his own.
Well, one thing leads to another, and Caesar ends up getting in trouble, the sort of trouble that ends with him locked up in what basically amounts to an ape-prison. It’s here that I’ll mention that all of the apes in the film are played by actors in motion-capture suits, and that the part of Caesar is played by all-around badass Andy Serkis (he was Gollum in Peter Jackson’s Lord of The Rings trilogy). Up until now, I’ve been very dismissive of the mo-cap process, as it’s primarily been used to produce films like The Polar Express and Beowulf, stuff that no one in their right mind would call a “good movie”. It’s seemed like a gimmick to me, yes, but it’s also seemed like the kind of thing that would be incredible if used properly. Jackson did it well in the LotR movies, of course, but Wyatt’s perfected it here with Serkis’ performance as Caesar.
Serkis is so good, in fact, that there’s considerable Oscar-buzz surrounding his performance, and every bit of it is justified. The early scenes where Caesar’s monkeying around (no pun intended) Will’s house are fairly impressive, but once Caesar gets to that ape-prison, things really take off: a huge portion of the film is set here, and—because 90% of the action is unfolding between apes—most of it is done wordlessly, with mo-capped actors bringing these locked-up apes to life. These scenes are incredible, both for the artistry on display and for their effectiveness. Quick: what’s the last, big, blockbuster summer movie you saw where at least half of the film was played by photorealistic animals who didn’t speak? This was a massive gamble on 20th Century Fox and Wyatt’s part, but it’s paid off stunningly.
No one’s more shocked about how great RoTPoTA is than I am, and I feel genuinely sorry about how hard I was on the film before seeing it. Wyatt’s film proves that a book cannot always be judged by its cover, and—more importantly—it proves that 20th Century Fox has a helluva good franchise on their hands…if they continue to treat it with the care and respect that Wyatt’s treated it with here. I’m not opposed to the idea of a Rise of The Planet of The Apes: Rise Harder, but I’d be very, very nervous if the studio brought on anyone else to futz around with this franchise (note: the same creative team is, in fact, handling the RoTPoTA sequel): these guys clearly understand how to make a brilliant Apes movie, so they should be allowed to continue doing so until it becomes evident that they’ve either A) run out of stories to tell or B) forgotten how to do that. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen for a long, long time.