Rebirth of the B Movie
More than
a prequel, better than a reboot, Rise of the Planet of the Apes is the most exciting installment
of that series since its beginning in 1968 and—are you ready?—it is easily the
best American movie of this corrupted summer. Rise succeeds on modest B-movie terms
(terms confused by Hollywood’s blockbuster mentality, where action-exploitation
films now carry the weight of exorbitant budgets, studio expectations and
adolescent notions of prestige). Director Rupert Wyatt brings glory back to the
B movie.
Rise looms large due to efficient
storytelling and expression of ideas through mood and momentum—qualities that
once distinguished the B movie but have become rare in today’s overlong,
dumbed-down film culture. Wyatt revives that craftsmanship by going back to the
beginning of the Planet of the Apes saga (as conceived in 1963 by novelist Pierre Boulle) to
build this succinct, cautionary epic warning against scientific arrogance:
Working on an experiment to cure Alzheimer’s Disease, scientist Will Rodman
(James Franco) uses chimpanzees as test figures. The drug temporarily cures
Rodman’s senile father (John Lithgow) and heightens the intelligence of Caesar,
the pet ape Rodman’s saves from GenSys labs. But it has an unforeseen affect on
simian aggression.
Wyatt’s
B-movie audacity makes a large point of humans cruelly mistreating Caesar at a
government shelter—shades of classic B movies like Sam Fuller’s White Dog and George Romero’s Monkey
Shines. Caesar’s
instinctive intellectual and survival response leads to a revolt (summoning the
other captive simians) that not only changes the future of mankind, but makes a
daring commentary on the tension between the spiritual and physical attributes
of animals. Franco’s earnest, vulnerable directness parallels Caesar’s simple
longing and offense (movingly enacted by Andy Serkis). These actors’ symbiosis
gives substance to the film’s satirical proposition on evolution—the
naturalness of Rodman’s multiculti romance with veterinarian Frieda Pinto as
well as with Caesar; the dangerous similarity of Rodman’s hubris and his boss
David Oyelowo’s greed. (“You make history, I make money!”)
Unlike Tim
Burton’s often brilliant 2004 remake, Rise is more poetic than topical. Wyatt (who reveals his
good taste when Caesar watches a clip from French Connection II) emphasizes the essential ironies
of Boulle’s original premise, then liberates its wild, primitive, action-movie
potential. Scenes of Caesar propelling himself across rooms, jumping through
trees, leaping and swinging, recalls Disney’s liberated skateboarding Tarzan, while the ape coalition scenes
between Caesar, Indy, Rocket, Simon and others, evoke the primate sequence of
Kubrick’s 2001
but now directed by an emotionalist, not a misanthrope. These apes’ facial
expressions are more nuanced than most human movies; and this is the best
animal acting since Babe: Pig in the City. In fact, the same D.P., Andrew Lesnie, constantly
shifts scale between animal and human viewpoints, giving a sense of expectation
to the misty views of the Golden Gate Bridge or the Redwoods in Muir Woods
National Monument. This clever contrast of nature and industry reveals Rise as nothing less than a Pandora
myth.
Wyatt
keeps the ideas pulsing and growing into a rousing vision of scientific
evolutionary vengeance. His great image of apes in Redwoods raises the irony
that man-against-beast symbolizes man fighting himself—following Tim Burton’s
social message but topping it. Wyatt stages a standoff between apes and police
on the foggy Golden Gate bridge that is powerfully resonant: It repeats Gillo
Pontecorvo’s prophetic climax of Battle of Algiers. This mad, energetic vision was
not possible before. That’s what a great B movie can do.
Rise of
the Planet of the Apes
Directed
by Rupert Wyatt
Running
time: 105 min.