The new “prequel,” “Rise of the Planet of the Apes,” is an interesting viewing experience because it doesn’t copy or, uh, “ape” its predecessors, which made use of human actors in monkey face masks or full-body suits. This time around, digital animation technology has improved so much that it’s now possible to do away with those human ape-pretenders altogether, and create the simian creatures completely from scratch.
This makes the new film more naturally engaging and affecting because, when you watched the old films, even if some of their actors were gifted thespians, they still had a hard time “acting through” those restricting and distracting masks.
In the new production, even if we know that the onscreen apes are digitized creations and not the real thing, we can relate to them and believe that their actuations are really taking place.
James Franco, one of the few human lead players in the movie, has his work cut out for him to keep up with his ape counterpart, Caesar, and his implicitly believable and subtly thoughtful “portrayal.” To his credit, Franco is able to sustain his focus, so he comes across affectingly as Caesar’s “father.”
Unfortunately, the same can’t be said of his “mother,” played by Frieda Pinto. Her participation in the movie’s key scenes is relatively nominal and lacking in acting “investment.” It’s good to see an actress of Indian descent being given a major “race-unspecific” role in a Hollywood film, but she doesn’t use the unusual opportunity to her—and the film’s—advantage.
But our biggest cavil about the production is the relative ease with which the now “intelligent” apes take over the world. The movie’s creative staff is obviously rooting for the primates, and that’s great for the animal kingdom—but lousy for genuine conflict, danger and dread as the apes leap and lunge generally unimpeded, to their triumphant apotheosis.
The key factor that betrays the movie’s “simian bias” is the revelation that Franco’s scientific discovery of a new serum that promotes primate intelligence has a negative and death-dealing effect on humans! In so doing, the production “queers” its dice so much that it becomes a foregone conclusion that, as the chimps become champs, all of their potential human foes will quickly expire—and where’s the dramatic conflict in that?
Indeed, as the film stages its big final battle on San Francisco’s iconic Golden Gate bridge, it’s the weakened humans who are reduced to wimps as the souped-up simians brilliantly outmaneuver them into abject surrender.
To make things worse, instead of calling out the army, only a few cops and soldiers are brought in to fight the apes—plus one tiny police helicopter that is of course soon brought down by the crafty chimps!
Due to this much too easy co-option and capitulation, the movie doesn’t really clutch at the heart, as it obviously intends to, with its cautionary tale of erstwhile chimps turned champs and their erstwhile human superiors soon reduced to extinct chumps!