Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes (2014) Is Genre At Its Most Important

Division between background and culture. Belief in the ability to overcome such division. The myth of the known other.  Our lesser selves, desperate for simple answers. The allure of technological solutions at the cost of fellow beings. Future generations physically and philosophically hanging in the balance. An abyss that threatens all when gravity becomes far too much to withstand.  We see this on every news source, every third or fourth tweet, hear about it through friends and family. A seemingly endless wave of hate, coupled with escalation by way of ever advancing death machines. These are at the heart of this weekend's big theatrical release, and I am still reeling from its effects.


Time for a big admission: Despite the surprise love many have for Rupert Wyatt's Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes (2011), I still find it to be a competent, but often hobbled first entry in this new generation of installments to the classic franchise. While it does so much to remove the distaste experienced while viewing the much lesser Tim Burton retelling of 2001, it often feels constructed by committee, and suffers from some of the more egregious cases of fan pandering imaginable. The shining success of Rise, comes from the character work, especially in Andy Serkis's portrayal of future ape icon, Caesar. Watching him grow from lab chimp, to family member, to leader of a simian revolution was a marked improvement. And one that connected well enough to start the tale from a perfectly understandable place of kinship between hyper-intelligent apes, and the humankind which will inevitably tilt over in monkey favor. Gripes of annoying wall to wall references aside, Rise remains a surprising prequel with enough dramatic groundwork for an even greater story.


Enter Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes.


Ten years after the events of Rise, Caesar and his surviving society of apes have now nestled deep into the woods overlooking San Francisco, and have created a functioning civilization far from what remains of humanity after the so-called "Simian Flu"(the human-made ALZ-113) all but wipes them out completely. Catching up with Caesar and his people, we are introduced to them during a hunting party, seeking food when it becomes clear that his leadership has become a foundation upon which all apes could co-exist. "Ape Not Kill Ape" In fact, when Caesar is asked about his feelings on his human upbringing, he claims to miss them from time to time, but feels that they are but a memory. Humans have become a footnote in their history. That is, until Caesar's son, Blue Eyes and his friend Ash (son of the first film's Rocket) are found by a small group of humans near the foot of their mountain. A shot rings out, and certainty is blasted away, as it comes to light that the remaining survivors of the Simian Flu apocalypse are in fact living within the ruins of the city, armed, and afraid.

Led by a once family man named Dreyfus (Gary Oldman), the remnants of SF humans are tattered, strained, and desperate. Low on gas powered energy, and portable tech, Dreyfus and company seek to reach the local dam in the hills in hopes of making contact with any remaining human outposts. Naturally, the ape society is situated perfectly between these two points of life. The mentioned gunfire comes from the hand of Carver(Kirk Acevedo), one of many ready to draw a gun at what he sees to be the source of his life's misery. He is not alone, as we learn that many in the human compound, including Dreyfus, see apes as the very cause of all that has befallen humankind. A shared lack of faith leads some toward a violent resolution should the apes not wish for human intervention within their young world in the mountains. Not all in the initial group encounter are as terrified of the almost speech-capable ape society. Malcolm (Jason Clarke) and a few others see the apes as special, and likely capable of reason. So when Caesar sees reason to quell the tension among his own, the sentiment of fear lives on in the form of Koba, a bonobo, who in the first film displayed scars of years of mistreatment at the hands of human scientists. It is in this ingrained tension between both species that drives Dawn toward something far more prescient than a mere AVATAR-esque tale of moral oversimplification.


The addition of Matt Reeves into the Apes fold, is an inspired, and proven choice here as his work with a script by Rise's Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver (rewrites by Mark Bomback) harkens to the best moments from the original, with a sense of clarity that is deeply modern and affecting. The initial half hour is extraordinarily unlike typical blockbuster fare, and is so patient with character work, that it becomes far more exciting to know where each one is coming from by merely observing mannerisms. Confident mastery of visuals, performance, score (Michael Giacchino at his understated best)and an incredible sense of dread seeps through every pore of the setup, making it one of the more distressingly beautiful ones ever executed. We fully know who everyone is, we know the stakes, and we know..that none of this can end well.



As hinted at, Dawn also takes an almost Dark Knight route and surpasses it, in that it never lets either side off the hook. For all of Caesar's passion for understanding between ape and human, there is much for him to still learn as apes like Koba cannot see past humanity's terrible tendencies. And for Malcolm and his family, a need to see their faith through whereas Dreyfus and Carver see only a threat. Paradoxes inherent in both camps, only made worse by the revelation that the human compound is carrying within it an armory capable of all out war. The trust of an open hand versus the swift justice of an automatic rifle. The film is far more concerned with the nature of humankind versus its own fears. It even goes so far as to explore what happens when the words of peace can be reappropriated in the name of conflict. How easily we forget. And how easily we can so easily write off the other in the name of returning to a life lived in blissful ignorance of others. As if that ever guaranteed lasting inner peace. Much like how superhero works like X-Men attempt to evoke mental imagery of classic schisms such as those between Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King, we finally have a big budget film willing to more clearly explore the allure of violent retribution over a long road to peace.

A push button solution. A trigger for happiness.

We can talk here about how impressively constructed a great deal of this really is. How magnificent the imagery plunges its ways into the mind long after viewing the film. How astounding the apes are, and how beautiful their fur reacts to natural phenomenon. How both Andy Serkis and Tony Kebbell(Koba), with the help of WETA, and various artists convey the best and worst in us in ways that even most human acting fails to encompass. How our kids are often trapped,and occasionally cursed by the prejudices and fears of our parents. How the inevitable battle between human and ape is the stuff of nightmares. How the film offers up the best parable for conflicts that are happening miles away from us as media outlets often take merely one side, never considering that both to all sides truly want similar things. This is a blockbuster with a greater deal on its mind than most, and it expresses them with conviction and clarity we simply don't get in many places outside of literature.

It has been years since a studio release did this to me, and I cannot wait to experience it again. Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes, is that rare example of what big genre film is capable of being. It is a modern allegory of often shattering impact, and I cannot recommend it more.

Concerning The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

Without going through all the normal writing steps I normally take when considering a review, I can go ahead and wonder on these pages if anything could have truly made Peter Jackson's much awaited return to Middle Earth something more to crow about. Arrived home mere moments ago, and still feeling like the proposed first chapter "An Unexpected Journey" came off little more than expected by that trailer footage I first set eyes on one year ago. For a story that was so well contained within a mere one-hundred-plus pages, there is an almost excessive amount of meat added to this particular bone, and yet matters feel so much less full than they did merely a decade ago when Jackson and his intrepid team unleashed the first two chapters of The Lord Of The Rings trilogy unto the world. And perhaps that's just it; we all knew this time around didn't have a great deal to offer outside of a means to flesh out the world's myriad of cultures and histories. All the while charting the first Hobbit adventure as unlikely hero, Bilbo Baggins joins Gandalf The Grey, and a cadre of dwarves, as they embark on a mission to reclaim their lost home from the clutches of a greedy fire breathing dragon. On one hand, it functions as part prequel, part victory parade, and that's perhaps my biggest disappointment.

And yet still, there is much enjoyment to be had as Mr. Baggins (Martin Freeman) is enlisted to leaving the safety of the Shire, to become the dwarves' much-needed burglar. And true to the original book, it's a brighter, happier affair with just that tiny hint of darkness for the days that lie years ahead. As expected by Jackson and his band of filmmakers, there is a definite feeling of home along certain stretches of the film; especially during the story's earliest sections as Bilbo's home becomes a meeting place for an unruly band of dwarves, and dwarf prince (played with brooding sincerity by Richard Armitage), and a wizard. It is here that much of the film's feeling of fun and comfort go on for almost too long before the adventure actually begins. This sequence, followed by perhaps the famous "riddles in the dark" sequence that carry with them not only familiarity, but a certain enthusiasm that only happens in fits and starts throughout. Andy Serkis's return performance as the lowly Gollum, while only a small section of matters, remains solid proof of how an actor can truly own a character, and continue to deliver us the same mixture of junkie's disgust and pathos that almost redefined creature performance with the previous films. Freeman makes for an effectively memorable Bilbo, and Ian McKellen slips back into his famous role like a favorite coat, albeit clearly feeling a little extra weathered. The return of Christopher Lee, Cate Blanchett, and Hugo Weaving also contribute a healthy feeling of ease in a sequence that while pure fan service, also functions as thread creation for future films.

Which leads me to my overall feeling that the film is at best, adequate. While it does indeed have its charms, it may be important to keep in mind that as mentioned, as the film version had been in the filming stages, studio wishes eventually pushed toward this becoming another trilogy, when the original work was well beneath the length to necessitate it, creating more of a reason to pad the film with an almost insane amount of supplemental material often culled from other Tolkien works, such as the LOTR appendices, as well as his incomplete work, The Silmarillion. This leads to what could only be seen as less a narrative film, and more an overall celebration of the author's world, and the multitude of beings that inhabit it. Which plays so much more heavily into the reality that at one time, this was to be directed by fantasy/horror maestro, Guillermo Del Toro. And An Unexpected Journey is riddled with his fingerprints, even after court problems and additional production delays led to him leaving the filming duties to Jackson.

And despite much of Jackson's often affable work on display, this feels so much more like Del Toro film as it finds itself often more enamored with monsters, and action than the character work which was more present in Rings. And even if the original Hobbit book did little to flesh out but only a few of the main characters, we never truly get a proper essence of what hangs in the balance, most notably, the dwarves who have long lived without a true place to call home. The script by Jackson, Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, and Del Toro, does what it can to create an emotional bridge regarding belonging, and in Bilbo's relationship to this band of unlikely heroes. And there are moments when it does feel like it's working, but often important character beats are either poorly conveyed, or aren't present at all. Often cutting away to more spectacle, and plenty of ""nudge-nudge" nods to the previous films to cover up what is often unaddressed, especially in regards to how Bilbo sees himself amongst people with an actual purpose. Freeman does the best he can with the material he's given, but we never really get a good footing into his arc. If this was indeed to be the first in a trio of films, it might have been important to make sure we find ourselves more invested in him, largely because a quest tale like this requires its own identity, and the beasts and dangers out there are merely there to bring this out of the cast. It becomes more a parade of things our characters are witnessing, rather than interacting with, something the previous films took that extra time to flesh out. Underneath all the trappings, a human story is at the core of even this simple tale, and at a near now-standard 3 hour length, it should spend a little more time making this more apparent.

And speaking of borderline superficial, another more minor grip lies in the film's visual composition. Filmed on the Red 3D camera, what once looked lived-in, and grungy, often looks overtly bright, clean and flat in places. For a few moments, I quickly was taken back to Jim Cameron's AVATAR, with it's overt details in soft light, and occasionally strange feeling aura. While this may seem to be fine and good, it does make me pine a little for the grimy, almost elegiac quality which were understandably present before. A little additional textural hint of that future would have been nice. There is a less of a sense of the lived-in this time, and it leaves less of a burning impression. I'm grateful to not have caught it in its now controversial 48 FPS format, as it likely would have driven me up a wall.

And so the first part of a simpler, less world-shattering is at hand, and while I could say I enjoyed it, there was definitely a feeling of longing. Not so much for the next chapter, but for perhaps a more sensitive portrayal of the story, something less rushed, less..well business-driven. This time around, it seems that a certain spirit simply isn't there. Much like a certain urgency is not apparent in the source material, neither is the drive behind the scenes to push matters full throttle once again. An Unexpected Journey turned out rather as expected, and for that I guess it should be worth asking; Should they have bothered? Sure. Do I recommend this alongside the previous trilogy? Optional.