Flash back to 2011. Having been treated to arguably one of
the biggest cinematic summers in recent memory (X-Men: First Class, Captain
America: The First Avenger, Thor, Kung Fu Panda 2, Super 8, Harry Potter and
the Deathly Hallows: Part 2), I went to a special early screening for Rise of the Planet of the Apes. The
excitement was palpable; the cinema was packed and we were each given free
posters for the film. Thankfully, the film didn’t fail to deliver on that
excitement and promise.
Will Rodman (James Franco) has stumbled upon a potential
cure for Alzheimer’s. After testing the cure on apes, the apes show vastly
increased intelligence. Following an incident at his lab, Will and his father
Charles (John Lithgow) become the guardians of a baby ape, Caesar (portrayed
through motion-capture work by Andy Serkis). As he grows, Caesar shows great
intellect and understanding; unfortunately, other humans aside from Will,
Charles and Will’s girlfriend Caroline (Freida Pinto) aren’t so understanding.
Following a confrontation where Caesar protects Charles, Caesar is locked away
in an animal shelter with other, less educated apes and abused by sadistic worker
Dodge (Tom Felton). Seeing the conditions which his kind endure and growing to
understand their current place in the world, Caesar grows bitterly angry and
decides that enough is enough…
Let’s start by talking about the most praised aspect of this
reboot series; the visual effects and motion-capture work. In short, what
everyone involved achieved in these areas is outstanding. The apes all feel like
real-breathing creatures with a huge range of expressions and a multitude of
subtle gestures which feel them less like avatars created on a computer and
more like individuals with rich emotional history. While the visual effects
team must be commended for their work here, a huge piece of the credit has to
go to the motion-capture actors. Karin Konoval, Christopher Gordon (Koba), Richard
Ridings (Buck), Terry Notary (Buck) and all the other motion-capture actors are
outstanding (Konoval is a delight as Caesar’s orangutan friend Maurice). These
actors all commit to their craft and are never anything less than convincing.
However, the man (and ape) of the hour is Andy Serkis as Caesar. Serkis is one
of the original pioneers of motion-capture work in film after his exceptional
work as Gollum in The Lord of the Rings trilogy,
and his performance here may be even more impressive. Serkis portrays all of
Caesar’s internal struggles flawlessly through his motions and sounds; nary a
word is spoken, and yet you feel the turmoil, confusion and rage that Caesar
feels. Caesar himself is already a compelling figure who is easy to relate to
and become attached to, but Serkis’ portrayal gives the character so much depth
and presence. The character’s arc, coupled with the electrifying work from
Serkis, makes Caesar a sensational lead who I can’t help but cheer on.
One of the biggest complaints I hear about Rise is that the human characters pale
in comparison to the apes, and for the most part, I’d have to agree with that.
It doesn’t help that the actors are often either saddled with severely
one-dimensional roles or given very little to do. Tom Felton sneers like he’s
in a pantomime as chief human antagonist Dodge; there’s no redeeming qualities
for this individual, and try as Felton might, the character seems like he
wandered out of a cartoon; it also doesn’t help that Felton clearly struggles
with his American accent. Playing Dodge’s father John, Brian Cox aces the
accent and gives a solid turn, but the character still feels under-written.
There’s an emotional moment for the character in the last act which Cox sells,
but it feels too rushed. David Oyelowo, a usually terrific actor, is nothing
more than the stereotypical evil businessman as Will’s over-seer Jacobs
(there’s even a point where he exclaims aloud “I make money!”) Freida Pinto,
who’s recently proven herself to be a captivating screen presence on TV’s Guerilla, is a likeable presence, but
Caroline often feels like more of a moral argument than an actual character.
She’s just there to point out where things can go wrong; there’s not much else
to her, apart from that, making her the archetypal ‘concerned girlfriend’. As
Will’s lab partner Franklin, Tyler Labine does good work. Outside of Will,
Charles and Caroline, Franklin is the only other human in the film who treats
the apes with something approaching love and respect. He’s also apparently an
intelligent character, which is why it’s such a shame to watch what the film
does with his character. I understand that the screen-writers needed to find a
way to move the plot forward, but couldn’t they have found a way which didn’t
have a supposedly smart individual suddenly and incomprehensibly act like an
utter imbecile? On a final negative note regarding the human characters, Will’s
neighbour Douglas (David Hewlett) is actually funny in how much of a pain
he is. Whenever we see him, he’s in a foul and unpleasant mood. What’s more,
his responses to everything are over-the-top; there’s a critical moment in the
film where Douglas takes offence at someone knocking on his neighbour’s door.
Not his door, but his neighbour’s door on a detached house. That’s a small
detail, but it shows how much the film occasionally tries too hard to make some
of these human characters antagonistic. As a result, they can come across as
obvious, dimensionless constructs.
Now let’s move on to who I think are the two really good human
performances and characters here; James Franco as Will and John Lithgow as
Will’s father Charles. Franco plays the role in decidedly understated fashion,
which only makes Will seem more human. At first, Will is only interested in the
medical ramifications of Caesar’s condition and how it can help human suffering
from crippling mental diseases. But, as time goes on and Will grows more
attached to Caesar, Franco sells that attachment beautifully. However, Franco
and Serkis never forget the undercurrent of tragedy in that, while Will cares
for Caesar, he can’t seem to understand that Caesar is his equal. There is an
arrogance to Will not entirely dissimilar to a ‘mad scientist’ archetype, and
Franco plays it with just enough flawed humanity to avoid slipping into
caricature. Better still is John Lithgow as Charles Rodman. Suffering from
Alzheimer’s, Charles is the reason Will is so determined to make the cure work,
and the painfully heartfelt relationship between father and son is played to
palpably moving results by both Franco and Lithgow. Lithgow never overplays the
character’s condition, portraying a man struggling to cling to his intelligence
in a way that rings harrowingly true. The interplay between Franco, Lithgow and
Serkis is truly magnificent, and it forms a large part of the film’s tragic
heart.
Arguably one of the biggest things Rise has going for it is the pacing. From its first frame, this
film MOVES. At a run-time of 105 minutes, this is a relatively short summer
blockbuster, and while there is hardly any action until the third act, the
drama and characters (particularly Caesar) create a thoroughly ensnaring
narrative which moves like lightning. The major characters are developed to the
point where we care about their fates and the underlying sense of tension
builds masterfully until it breaks loose (literally and figuratively) in the
final act. Not only is each act brilliantly constructed and clear (there are
defining moments which are indicative of an act ending and/or beginning without
being overly obvious), but everything which occurs in the latter half of the
film is set up wonderfully in the first half of the film. This is a very tight
film with few loose threads, outside of some questionable character motivation
and other minor mis-steps.
Editors Conrad Buff and Mark Goldblatt keeps the story
racing by with just enough time given to allow events to possess the punch they
deserve (for the most part – like I said earlier, there are moments where some
actors aren’t given the chance to emote as much as possible), but he and
director Rupert Wyatt understand that build-up is key. Wyatt must be a fan of
the ‘prison break’ sub-genre; not only was 2008’s The Escapist, his film prior to this, a film of that ilk, but from
the second act onwards, Rise clearly
owes a debt to prison-break dramas. As great as Wyatt’s direction of the film’s
first act is, it’s from Caesar’s imprisonment onwards that he really starts to
show off his skill. Not only is it great fun to watch traditional prison film
tropes being acted out by apes in a way which feels very naturalistic, but it’s
also amazing to see the cogs in the machine that is Caesar’s plan slowly and
surely come together for terrific effect. And what is the sensational third
act, where Caesar leads his fellow apes in a rush for freedom, but one of the
most epic jail break sequences ever? It’s safe to say that the building
suspense of the first two acts is delivered on in spades come that spectacular
finale. Everyone involved, from Wyatt and the editors to the actors, from the
visual effects crew to cinematographer Andrew Lesnie, is clearly throwing their
all into that conclusion and it makes for an incredible ride, full of bruising
strength and wicked wit.
Wyatt’s direction is perfect for the material. It’s
intelligent and emotional, tapping into the heart of the characters and story
without usually feeling the need to explain too much; often, a simple visual or
a shot of a character reacting is enough to inform us of changes taking place
in the film. The script, written by Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver, must also get
some credit here; while there are issues with how some of the other characters
behave and talk occasionally, the characters normally interact and talk in a
way that feels natural to both the situation at hand and who they are as
individuals.
Bolstered by Lesnie’s stunningly gorgeous cinematography and
Patrick Doyle’s emotionally rich and compelling score, Rise thrives on its unexpected soul and vitality. If there was any
other issue apart from the lacking or simplified characterisations for the
supporting cast, it would be that the references to the franchise’s history are
often ham-fisted and out-of-place. Sure, some work, but they mostly feel too
slavish and have a negative impact on the film. Most egregious of all is a
famous quote from the original 1968 Planet
of the Apes which inspired a groan from me when I first saw it in cinemas;
this was a mistake which the ill-advised 2001 remake made, so to see it being
repeated here wasn’t very encouraging. However, the moment right after that is
an absolute stunner; I can still recall the entire cinema going into awestruck
silence. The real power in Rise is in
the story of Caesar, and that moment is the culmination of it all. That moment
epitomised everything so pleasantly surprising about Rise of the Planet of the Apes, and why it proved to be one of the
most unexpected resurrections of a franchise in recent memory.
Final Rating: 4
out of 5
