War for the Planet of the Apes
(2017)
(SPOILERS) It isn’t difficult to see why War of the Planet of the Apes didn’t
open as well as its predecessor and is unlikely to come close to its gross; it
plays it safe. Which sounds odd to say, for such a dark, downbeat, (almost)
relentlessly grim blockbuster, but the lack of differentiation between this and
its dark, downbeat, (almost) relentlessly grim predecessor suggests Matt Reeve
and Fox thought more of the same would tickle its audience’s anthropoid itch,
when in fact it only leads to a lack of differentiation. Which is a shame, as War of the Planet of the Apes is
(mostly) an accomplished movie, expertly directed by Reeves and performed with
due conviction by its mo-capped (and otherwise) cast.
It does seem a tad churlish to complain about what a movie
might have been when it maintains the series’ consistent high quality, but I’m
now firmly in the camp of wishing some of the more tonally-varied content of
the original pictures was finding its way into this re-envisaging. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the
first two thirds of War of the Planet of
the Apes are the most engrossing, in which Caesar’s quest for revenge runs
in tandem with various mysteries (what is happening to the humans, why is the Colonel
killing his own) as well as dropping nuggets of series lore (Cornelius, Nova,
Alpha-Omega).
Caesar’s downfall, putting his personal vendetta above the
welfare of his brood, is potently depicted through, leading to a fitting ending
that emphasises no good can come from such thinking, but I nevertheless had the
lurking feeling that these weren’t the actions of the Caesar we knew, whereby
at some point he ought to have regrouped, rationalised and taken the higher
path (Reeves, bending Caesar into the shape of the story he wishes to tell, on
some level appears to recognise this, feeding the Colonel observations like “Always so emotional”).
The picture is more inspired prior to the arrival at the ape
gulag, taking in encounters (Nova, Bad Ape) and moral quandaries. Once
imprisoned by the Colonel, Reeves ups the tension, and Woody Harrelson more
than fills the boots of main antagonist, with his own considered motivation,
but there’s little sense we’re breaking any new ground. We’re swapping out an
ape baddie (Koba, who resurfaces in Caesar’s troubled visions of the ape he
fears he is becoming) for a human one, and we’re back in a grey, drab, washed-out
milieu.
The narrative and thematic oppositions, while powerfully
conveyed, lack the compellingly grand plotting of the first four originals
(whatever their individual defects). Sure, a prison break movie with apes is a
reasonable idea, but didn’t we already get a prison break in Rise of the Planet of the Apes? And with
considerably less reliance on conveniently-placed tunnels, just waiting to be
fallen into, conveniently-placed flammable fuel tanks, just waiting to explode
and wipe out all the humans on the battlements (it’s a wonder they required
Caesar to blow them up, as one good flyby of those army helicopters ought to
have done the job), and a conveniently-placed pile of snow, just waiting to
avalanche the area (one can only assume the Colonel wasn’t up to snuff long
before the virus mutated him into a mute).
With regard to the mechanics of the virus mutation, if the
Colonel is right in his analysis, then Nova, who we have invested in as the most
genuine character in the picture, is doomed to devolve into a primitive/mentally
feeble state; a reflection of how upbeat this series is. And the Colonel does seem fairly certain, hence shooting
himself in the head. As to the significance of the infecting toy, if humans
carry the (presumably mutating) virus anyway? It needs an external trigger? Or does
it simply come with the territory of a magic virus that dumbs down humans while
simultaneously evolving apes, such that Nova imbues Maurice with the ability to
speak? Reeves leaves it a little grey, but if it’s maybe a little too neat for
material that otherwise thrives on “realism”, it works thematically.
I have other niggles; honestly, the quasi-biblical elements
of sacrificed children, floods and promised lands didn’t do an awful lot for me
(having in mind Caesar as a Moses-type is one thing, but over garnishing it
visually is another). And do we really need foregrounding of “Ape-ocalypse Now” on graffiti in a movie
already nursing Woody’s possessed Colonel shaving his bald pate while delivering
a cogent thesis on his fine madness?
But the characters are where this series has been most
celebrated, and it’s Reeves skill in this quarter that consistently prevents
the picture from becoming an over-familiar trudge. It isn’t for nothing that these
Apes movies have been trumpeted as an
unlikely example of intelligent, nuanced blockbusters (although, this is
equally true of the originals). Serkis is yet again a powerhouse as Caesar. Less
showy but still hugely compelling is Karin Konoval as the mostly mute Maurice –
the effects work is all-round great, but on Maurice particularly so – who gets
possibly the most affecting subplot in respect of his parental feelings towards
young Nova (Amiah Miller).
Reeves elicits a fine moppet performance from Miller,
particularly in expressing Nova’s grief over the death of Luca (Michael Adamthwaite),
so it’s a shame she’s doomed to mindless oblivion. And it would be more
powerful still if not for the shamelessly over-emphatic Michael Giacchino score.
He’s a composer whose work I usually admire, but here seems to be under the
illusion this a movie from the Hollywood Golden Age, where the soundtrack’s
responsibility is to treat the audience like emotional idiots in need of a
guiding ear. Steven Zahn also provides a welcome light touch as the disturbed but
comical chimp Bad Ape, able to speak and fond of wearing body warmers. Even an
ape like Red (Ty Olsson), loathsome in his cruelty, is offered an arc of sorts
and a final glimpse of salvation.
Fox has now completed a Caesar trilogy, and one assumes,
even if receipts are down, they’ll be planning a further trilogy to cover the
events of the ’67 Planet of the Apes.
Whatever tentative ideas there are for Reeves continuing with the baton, I suspect
he’ll move on; he pulls his punches creatively somewhat here, such that new
blood and ideas would be sensible at this point, albeit with the proviso of Andy
Serkis returning, now as the adult Cornelius (much as Roddy McDowall doubled up
roles in the originals).
We’re now at the point of mute humans, with apes all-but ready
to take command, so labouring a holding pattern of further internecine simian struggles
will only lead to further diminished returns. Deliver us the returning
astronaut thrown into an upside-down milieu, the underground mutants (already
referenced by the Colonel’s Alpha-Omega faction), but, without the dictating
Chuck factor, moving on past the point Beneath
left us for a distinct trilogy capper, without that decimated planet (that
nihilism, potent as it was, closed off all other plot avenues, except for
time-travelling ones). There’s a lot of juice left in this series, but being
caught in yet another gritty ape power play is unlikely to result in fresh ideas
or stimulating storytelling and all-important box office.
Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.
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