Till now the Internet has been full of doubt and scepticism about Rise of the Planet of the Apes, a 'reboot’ of the famous Planet of the Apes franchise. Suspicions were raised early since the title makes little or no literal sense. (As the esteemed critic Roger Ebert explained recently to the syntax-challenged marketeers at Fox, 'planets do not rise".)
For purists and pedants, a renewed Planet seemed like a bad idea simply because the original seemed so, well, '60s in its concerns, outlook and approach. Released in 1968, which not-coincidentally was when the Civil Rights movement was hitting critical mass, Planet of the Apes had action, great sets, suspense, a strong plot and a lot of lofty talk about tolerance for all creatures bright and beautiful (a coded and deliberately unsubtle plea for racial equality). It was enjoyed as a very imaginative piece of sci-fi but it also happened to be pop culture satire at its best. For its contemporaries, it was fun hearing the same debates from the TV news about mindless prejudice based on colour, class and creed by earnest politicians and their equally earnest opponents on a big movie screen, with humans dressed up as apes, who were not only the law-givers in this topsy-turvy world, but who also got most of the best lines!
What’s so good about Rise, directed by Rupert Wyatt from a clever script by Amanda Silver and Rick Jaffa, isn’t just the photo-real special effects. It’s that, just like the 1968 original, it’s got ambition and an intellect, but perhaps more importantly, a distinct personality of its own, even though it’s not exactly original or even especially ingenious in its storytelling.
Set in contemporary San Francisco, James Franco stars as a geneticist called Will, who is dedicated to finding a treatment for Alzheimer’s. It turns out he has a deeply personal stake in the results since his father, played by the great John Lithgow, is a sufferer. Will makes a pet out of one his test 'specimens’ – a very smart ape called Caesar. Will’s drug has altered Caesar’s genetic code in utero. (The ape's mother was killed after the initial test series went wrong.) As Caesar grows into an adult, he retains his 'ape’ instincts, but also begins to exhibit human-like traits. Ultimately Caesar is imprisoned in an 'ape pound’, after a violent assault on one of Will’s neighbours. (Caesar was defending himself and his 'human family’ at the time.) The rest of the movie has Caesar weighing up his chances: Should he return to domesticity? Or should he use his powers to lead his fellow ape prisoners in a revolt? Can he forge a new home?
With its suburban/test lab settings and clearly defined characterisations where there is no mistaking the good guys from the bad ones, in addition to a rather TV-ish bland-as-butter visual style and ambience, Rise kept reminding me, at times, of a Hallmark movie. But such unflattering comparisons are swept aside whenever Caesar is on screen. (And indeed for every blood-curdling sentimental flat spot there’s an 'ape setpiece’ where Caesar leaps around Will’s house, or swings through the trees of San Fran’s great redwood forest or else we discover something new in his abilities.) It’s Caesar’s movie all right and he’s a truly astounding creation and not just technically (though that’s mind-blowing).
Sweet, tough, and with a sense of humour, Caesar is a complete character. We can often 'read’ Caesar’s thinking and therefore anticipate his actions in precisely the same way we do a human character. (Occasionally, though, Wyatt and co. resort to subtitles and in the scenes with Franco, his sign language is translated.)
The plot is actually an old-fashioned cautionary tale about the need for sensitivity and eco-balance in research science. But just because it’s classic sci-fi boilerplate doesn’t make it any less powerful. What Planet did for race, Rise does for animal rights, the ecology and genetic engineering.
Indeed Rise’s narrative action may hold some special excitement and interest for fans of the ’68 original since this new film’s plot appears to be a deliberate inversion of the journey taken by Charlton Heston’s stranded astronaut, Taylor. Just like Taylor, Caesar is called 'bright-eyes’ and is tortured in 'prison’ by dumb-arse guards who exploit his vulnerability for kicks, all the while underestimating his intelligence.
Blockbusters, at least recent ones, seem to have had a brain bypass. They don’t engage with anything humanoid or subtle – they’re just about blowing stuff sky-high (and then showing the debris fall and spray in multiple angles). Compared in these terms to something like the latest Transformers, Rise is an art film. This is paced like a drama, not a popcorn movie; it’s full of quiet moments of reflection and it takes its time in laying some very clever subplots that pay off brilliantly in the movie’s terrific, almost but not quite apocalyptic, climax where Caesar leads a revolution. (That’s no spoiler, the title tells you that much.)
The weak link throughout the movie becomes the human characters; they seem glib, made too bland, in deference to the majestic apes. Still, Rise is a film with a lot of moviemaking risk involved, since its lead character is a CGI-enhanced creation incarnated by Andy Serkis, the famous 'performance capture actor’ from Lord of the Rings; if this conceit didn’t work the movie would collapse. Its real success is that all the while we’re rooting for Caesar and his apes, and when they commit acts of violence we mourn their loss of innocence and reason, and when they score a victory we cheer knowing full well further struggles will follow. That kind of emotional involvement is pretty special in any movie these days. In a special effects blockbuster, it’s cause for celebration and sadly, in a way, relief.
