Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes vs Planet Of The Apes

Planet Of The Apes is one of the most successful mask-based movie series of all time. I know it’s also one of our deeper science-fiction mythologies, and that it’s some kind of Cold War metaphoric cautionary tale. But I can’t help it: I watch Planet Of The Apes, I see Halloween costumes. Even in the Tim Burton remake, I was distracted by all the rubber special effects facial appliances, and the odd medieval/prehistoric costume design.

The new movie, Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes, is set in the present day, or close to it, before the apes took over, rode horseback, and spoke in Stage British. Meaning, the apes (and monkeys, chimps, baboons, gorillas, etc) are all either CGI or the real deal. Not a mask in sight. What we’re left with instead is a more intimate drama than you might expect, but also a rousing prison film, a cross-culture character study, and a little-used film genre that feels totally fresh: the pre-apocalyptic thriller.

Will (James Franco) has discovered the cure for Alzheimer’s. He tests his vaccine on both primates in the lab, and on his father (John Lithgow) at home, to great success. Something terrible and violent happens at work, and his funding is cut, leaving Will with just one chimp left, the baby, Caesar, who has inherited the cure for Alzheimer’s genetically from his mother. By the way, in chimps, the cure for Alzheimer’s is that they’re really smart chimps. Years later, Caesar is a part of Will’s family (Will has a girlfriend as well, a veterinarian played by Freda Pinto). He’s as smart as a kid around his same age, communicates via sign language, and dresses kind of like Stuart Little, or maybe the dad on Frasier. Everyone’s happy, although Caesar has moments of feeling like an outsider in his human home. Something terrible and violent happens, again, and Caesar is taken from Will, and placed in a habitat with other primates. And that’s when Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes becomes something strange and wonderful.

For a long stretch of its second half, Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes is a near-silent prison caper. Caesar is initially lonely and afraid amongst all the other animals, including a huge gorilla. Caesar is targeted and intimidated by another chimp, but eventually, through his superior intellect and communication skills, Caesar rises to power, establishing a new hierarchy, outsmarting the abusive human habitat employees (Brian Cox runs the place, which should tell you something), and staging a breakout that’s as suspenseful and exciting as any similar scene featuring actors using their own faces. A majority of the credit for the success of this sequence, as well as the movie in general, falls on Andy Serkis, who plays Caesar via motion capture and CGI. Actually, I think we’re far enough into motion capture’s history as a tool in special effects to stop using it as a qualifier. Andy Serkis plays Caesar, period, and he’s fantastic.

Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes culminates, as you might guess, with the apes advancing to a dramatic, somewhat tentative position of power, at least in one city. We know where they’re headed, but thankfully the rubber masks don’t make an appearance. Director Rupert Wyatt does a surprisingly faithful job in setting up the rest of the series. There’s even a lost mission to mars. It’s an origin story, but not necessarily one that starts a full reboot. You could conceivably watch this one and then the rest of the existing films. For a taste of just how complicated, confusing, ludicrous and fun those films are, go back a decade to Tim Burton’s remake of the original Planet Of The Apes.

What do you mean, “No”? It’s maybe the least Tim Burtony of Tim Burton’s movies, which is a plus and a minus. It’s good, because with Planet Of The Apes being such a known commodity, changing the aesthetic too much would threaten to unhinge the ties to the previous series or any chance of a future franchise, both of which are important in science fiction. On the other hand, sometimes things are better when they’re a little Tim Burtony. Think of all the wit, tone and visual style he brought to the world of Batman, how brazen he was with venturing away from the expectations of Charlie And The Chocolate Factory. Good or bad, Tim Burton’s point of view is typically unmistakable. In Planet Of The Apes, there’s less of him, and it suffers. Mark Wahlberg and Estella Warren are the principle humans of the cast and blandly bland along blandly with their blandness.

The main attraction in Burton’s Planet Of The Apes is the very missing thing that drives Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes: character actors in rubber masks. Helena Bonham Carter, Paul Giamatti, Michael Clarke Duncan and Tim Roth damn near chew their way out of those fuckers. Roth is as menacing and intimidating as ever, snorting and hissing at that damn dirty human. Burton kind of screws up any chance of sequels by ending his Planet Of The Apes with a twist rooted in alternate earths/time travel inexplicability his lead actor might not have understood (I think it’s the best part, as perverse and darkly funny as the better parts of Burton’s Mars Attacks). For fun, make it a double feature, and pretend this is where Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes’ Caesar meant to lead us all along. Even though he’s smart enough to know better.

Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes: A-

Planet Of The Apes: C+