Rise of the Planet of the Apes (Revisited)

I'll admit that when I first saw previews for a prequel/sequel/reboot of the Planet of the Apes franchise, that sounded like the worst idea ever. Perhaps it was the sting of Tim Burton's Ape Lincoln in his 2001 version, franchise fatigue, or general disinterest, but I didn't expect to like the movie. But I did. And critics did. And audiences did. And now the franchise is about to release its third and final installment War for the Planet of the Apes this Friday. As such, we'll be going back to the beginning to see how the new trilogy got off on the right foot/paw.

James Franco stars as Will Rodman a scientist in the midst of testing a revolutionary drug designed to treat Alzheimer's. After a test subject chimp goes rogue during a presentation, Rodman's research is rejected by his company. But Rodman receives hope in the form a Caesar, the son of his chimp test subject whose mental capacities continue to grow. But as Caesar becomes more human, will he be able to find a place in the world?

Like many successful summer blockbusters Rise works because of its story, great performances, exciting set-pieces, and of course excellent effects. But what sets this particular movie apart? Here's my two cents.

Science Isn't The Enemy

For a genre obsessed with new technology and possibilities, science fiction has been plagued with a fear of technology (i.e. Terminator's Skynet). As such, it's a breath of fresh air when scientific endeavors aren't the enemy, even if they cause problems. In Rise it's hard to look at anyone, minus the abusive ape keepers, as definitively in the wrong. Franco's Rodman wants to cure a disease that plagues millions and wants Caesar to have a fulfilling life, but also doesn't know how to provide it. Likewise, it's easy to see why Caesar is fed up with a human society that views him as nothing but an animal. The list goes on. The point is that characters intentions and the science that at the center of these problems isn't at fault.

Instead it prevents the audience with tough questions, like whether or not cures are worth taking risks or where Caesar could find a proper home in the world as we know it. It's great stuff.

Investment in Characters

In bad movies the audience is told that a moment is important due to the camera work, the acting, and even the score. But that doesn't mean the moment works. Put another way, imagine Daniel-san winning the tournament in The Karate Kid after a single lesson, without a major injury, and without Mr. Miyagi at his side. Not the same movie is it? The same goes for Rise which has two to three epic moments that hit like sledgehammers because of the time we've spent watching our characters grow. In a lesser movie we wouldn't care about Caesar's revolt or find the relationship between Rodman and Caesar so tragic, but in Rise we do. The added audience investment also works wonders in the film's set piece that use that demonstrate that set-pieces work best when they feel inevitable.

Motion Capture Performance As Art

At this point saying Andy Serkis is amazing at motion capture, and probably more ape than man at this point, is like saying California is sunny. Still that level of expectation shouldn't undermine how important Serkis and the mastery of motion capture technology, is to this film. Caesar is a fully fleshed-out character whose body language and facial expressions tell us more about his feelings that he's able to express with sign language. People talked about getting Serkis an Academy Award nomination for this movie and I do not blame them.