Goodbye Wordpress, bastards. Lousy software over there just cost me five hour of writing lost to a crash. I'm moving my film reviews here.
Aping the past: “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes”
It’s been four years since “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes” director Matt Reeves last cinematic outing, “Let Me In” — an English-language remake of Swedish director Tomas Alfredson’s vampiric coming-of-age film. While there will always be film aficionados who insist the original take of a film presents its truest form, I felt Reeves’ reboot wrought a more kinetic, more universal telling of the tale and that Reeves had created an instant classic of the horror genre. My respect for “Let Me In” was immense. Over the decades, Reeves has paid his dues in Hollywood and his career has veered from comedy (“The Pallbearer,” an early and soon-to-be infrequent outing by “Friends” star David Schwimmer) to helming one of the first features to bring the now largely defunct “shaky-cam” (thank goodness) effect to big screen — his clever, if Dramamine-required, alien-invasion film “Cloverfield.” Capable of delivering both drama with sensitivity and visceral shock, Reeves seemed an excellent choice for this latest installment of the “Planet of the Apes” saga. Unfortunately the material he’s been given to work with isn’t of the same quality as Alfredson’s wholly original horror concept or enough of a pure action-fest like “Cloverfield” to let one overlook the general mundanity of “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes'” story. How possibly mundane can a planet of talking apes be? Aside from the fact that these simians have now been performing their grunt-speak to audiences for over fifty years (Maurice Evans’ buttery, upper-class mannerisms notwithstanding — what planet was he from?), that novelty remains fairly fresh. But it’s “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes'” screenplay that comes across as flimsy as Linda Harrison-as-Nova’s” deliciously hung rags. If one were to take away the apes as players (which would be a waste as they are miraculously rendered CGI creations), stripped of tooth and fang, “Apes” would be left with all-too-human and all-too-cliched story. The film revolves around the “stop the madness” efforts of a good-hearted human survivor of the simian-virus apocalypse and the now imperially seated Ceasar of 2012’s “Rise of the Planet of the Apes.” These two suffer fools, villains and rebellious children as they toil haplessly to bring peace to opposite ends of an inter-species battlefield. The CGI action is exciting, but the behind-the-scenes powerplays of their shared struggle — however novel on the Darwin spectrum — feels too familiarly packaged. The screenplay, credited to Mark Bomback, Rick Jaffa and Amanda Sliver, makes the writers sound less like science fiction visionaries than a preachy team behind a Vietnam-era anti-war film. There’s a decidedly “retro” feel to the futuristic war film, with the camouflage-clad ghosts of Audie Murphy and Dennis Hopper lingering somewhere just out of sight. The story trudges along dredging up far too many plot points from Shakespearean-aspired royal dramas; I’d recite the litany of cliches but I don’t want to spoiler-ize anyone’s fun. Gary Olman, who once shone in the sun as a lean, English mad dog, now seems comfortably settled into playing roles of the flustered heavy (and I still think he applies the same touch to his American accent.) He’s ostensibly the leader of one of the last tribes of humans, but his nervous fidgeting makes it difficult to believe he would be put in charge of much more than a AA meeting. The cast of largely unknown actors doesn’t help either. Though capable, they never bring any real fire to the screen, although lead Jason Clarke works tirelessly at his angst. Unfortunately, the human cast is frequently emotionally upstaged by computer-generated apes, that in itself a scary accomplishment which may, indeed, portend the fall of mankind. Or at least the Actor Guild of America. On the other hand, I never know exactly what praise to lavish on human-marionette, actor Andy Serkis. Certainly dancing around in leotards glued with styrofoam balls for the roving eye of a computer to map can’t be easy, but the question is how deep does one’s Stanislavsky have to run? But the film’s real problem is its script, and its by-the-numbers roll call of devices. Without the apes, I imagine the plethora of well-intentioned, but tired war movie cliches would have “Apes” garnering far less praise than it is receiving. And those hokey-ending lines gravely spoken by the defeated peace-makers … Where have I heard them before? “I thought we had a chance,” says Clarke. “So did I, my friend…so did I,” intones the moribund chimp. It’s almost a pity that all the battling that has come before falls into a pile with those oh-so heavy lines, which ring as outdated as a throw-away bit of hippy schtick from “Easy Rider.” Of course, the action fans may not notice these overwrought grarnishes, as they have been rewarded earlier to a fiery finale of two foes battling it out, swinging on an exploding skyscraper, as the inevitable flames lick at their feet, er, paws. While “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes” will certainly please the action crowd with the most technologically advanced simian set pieces yet, it’s ultimately a pretty routine and not terribly clever affair. Invoking the film’s catchphrase, “Ape not kill Ape,” I would proffer, “Ape not make Sequel.” Though I’m sure “the heavies” will triumph again, man.
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