Rise of the Planet of the Apes

It started with 'Caesar' then changed to 'Rise of the Apes' and finally Rise of the Planet of the Apes. While yes so many title changes may as per usual attribute to Hollywood selling style over substance. It wouldn’t be the first time that Hollywood has attempted to revive Planet of the Apes -- with even Tim Burton struggling to deliver an enjoyable modern remake. And Rupert Wyatt's revival of the iconic hit definitely works.

The film follows Will Rodman (James Franco) who is working on a chemical compound designed to cure Alzheimer’s Disease, which happens to afflict his father. Through a chimpanzee test subject named “Bright Eyes,” Rodman discovers that his compound not only rebuilds damaged brain tissue, but significantly increases intelligence. When his study is suddenly scrapped, following a lab accident, Rodman is forced to put-down all of his primate test subjects and is left to raise a young Chimpanzee named Caesar -- who has genetically inherited super-intelligence from his mother. As Caesar grows, it becomes difficult for the chimp to make sense of his role in a human world, as well as withstand his animal impulses, i.e., when Caesar violently attacks an ass-hole neighbor in order to protect a confused Charles, the police throw Caesar into an animal control facility with regular stupid apes.

And that’s where Rise of the Planet of the Apes goes from good to great. Wyatt takes his time developing the character of Caesar and while Franco may be the “star” of the film, it really belongs to Serkis and the special effect geniuses at WETA. Will becomes a background character as he struggles to get Caesar released while trying to update ALZ-112 to into an aerosol form that can better fight off antibodies. The movie breezes through these scenes because where its heart truly lies is with Caesar developing his relationship with his other prisoners and staging an escape.

By far the strongest element of the film is Caesar’s arc -- which successfully presents a mostly non-verbal evolution of the character from a reckless and charming baby chimpanzee to a contemplative but dangerous adolescent. Weta’s digital protagonist, coupled with another incredibly life-like performance from Andy Serkis, work to create one of the most intriguing connections to an entirely digital character that audiences will have ever experienced. In the end, it’s not just that Caesar looks real -- the character, through both the remarkable physical appearance as well as his onscreen actions, is genuinely brought to life.


Surprisingly, the human characters aren’t quite as well realized. Where Caesar’s evolution is unique and compelling, most of the other actors in the film are reduced to very traditional roles. Franco’s Rodman is the obsessed but sensitive scientist who breaks the rules for all the right reasons. The actor does a competent job of interacting with the CGI Caesar -- as well as pumping some believable emotion into the human-side of the equation. However, even a talented performer like Franco is somewhat held-back by the film’s interest in his ape counterpart; as a result, Rodman is mostly reacting to the things happening around him -- and isn’t given much room to evolve. Similarly, Freida Pinto plays Caroline Aranha, a veterinarian that becomes involved with Rodman -- another character that is mostly defined by a relationship, not her actions. Again, Pinto delivers a okay performance in the role but isn’t given anywhere to take it. Lithgow delivers a few charming moments, but the other supporting characters -- specifically cruel animal sanctuary wardens John and Dodge Landon (Brian Cox and Tom Felton, respectively) -- are one-note caricatures -- as is David Oyelowo’s money-hungry executive, Steven Jacobs. It’s an ironic state of affairs that -- in a film about apes that break free from the confines of human oppression -- it is the human actors who are restrained by the weight of their digital colleagues.

In spite of the CGI action-heavy finale, Rise of the Planet of the Apes is mostly a plodding character drama -- one that features a number of tense, but mostly small-scale, encounters. While everything that’s depicted onscreen is interesting, and successfully works to develop Caesar’s character, the film does get bogged-down at times. The final act offers a number of interesting visuals (most notably an empty suburban street lined with trees -- and falling leaves) and successfully depicts the actual rise of the apes -- but anyone expecting a large-scale, action-packed, finale might be a little let-down. However, for viewers who are locked into the film’s character moments, the final set-piece manages to deliver both a dramatic and emotional pay-off -- not to mention successfully ties the film to the overarching franchise .

Although I think a few things should be cleared up. The trailers and the TV spots make it look like this is the beginning of a revolution and we’re going to see how the apes rose up and defeated humanity. That’s not what happens and while I won’t spoil Caesar’s ultimate goal, I will say that the movie doesn’t try to make anyone seriously believe that the planet could be taken over by apes no matter how intelligent, agile, or physically imposing they may be. The movie cheats a little in showing how many apes charge through San Francisco, but there’s nowhere near enough apes in the city or on the planet for any viewer to believe that they could bring down humanity.

It’s important to note that, for anyone who might be turned-off by the campy sci-fi roots of the film, the tie-ins are ancillary to the far more compelling story of Caesar’s psychological evolution. As mentioned, the heavy-handed Planet of the Apes branding may dominate the film’s marketing campaign, but the actual story and characters depicted onscreen successfully rise above the PR blitz to deliver a unique and compelling movie-going experience.

So, I may not have seen any other planet of the apes movie (excluding this one) besides Tim Burton's but yes its a worthy addition to the brand name.

Rise of the Planet of the Apes

127 Hours

When the movie started all that I knew about it was that Danny Boyle was the director, James Franco starts in it and its a real life story of a person named Aron Ralston. But Danny Boyle is good at taking a grimy subject, flashing it a smile and stabbing it through the heart with a big, fat, dripping shot of adrenalin.


There’s only so much you can do with a movie like 127 Hours. Director Danny Boyle does all of it, but in the end his film still hinges almost entirely on the performance of James Franco. Franco is an actor who, till now, always tried hard but never really achieved anything beyond mediocre results. An enthusiasm for acting, a willingness to take on challenging projects, and movie star good looks were always there, but talent? Until now I’d never really been sure. But in taking on the true life story of trapped climber Aron Ralston, Franco finds himself in the perfect place at the perfect time. It’s a role which. if played by someone else, might have just been the story of some guy trapped in a hole. Franco finds something more. 


There’s little more gruesome and extreme than the story of Aron Ralston, an American outdoors nut who in 2003 went canyoning alone in Utah without telling anyone where he was going. James Franco plays the frenetic 27 year old as an experience junkie and sociable loner. He bombs through the desert on a mountain bike leaving a trail of dust behind him. He meets girls in the wilderness, makes them laugh and leaps into underground lakes with them before saying goodbye. He bounds over gulleys. Then he misses his footing, slips into a canyon and a boulder follows him down, pinning his arm to the wall just as he lands on his feet. He’s trapped, and the film’s kineticism turns in on itself: like Ralston, its energy is stuck in a hole.


From the off, Boyle winds up our nerves with split-screens, pumping music and archive inserts – and he never stops. We know, of course, that Ralston eventually escapes by carving off his arm with a penknife, so there’s a deep intake of breath when the accident happens early. Where will Boyle take us? It’s a great challenge to witness and it brings out the best in Boyle. Just don’t expect to breathe normally for some time.


Boyle focuses intensely on Ralston’s thoughts, both rational and delusional as the days pass. He tries pulleys. He tries scratching away at rock. He tries everything. Franco’s performance is a brilliant show of constrained muscularity. We see flashbacks of his relationships and realise that he has some ways to mend if he ever gets out alive. We’re stuck with Ralston, and we’re privy to his mind because he keeps record with a camcorder in his rucksuck. On top of that, Boyle uses every angle available to him, and AR Rahman’s score helps to capture and stress Ralston’s mental fragility.


We spend a few brief moments with Aron, before he’s trapped, as he races across the wilderness on his bike. On his way out towards solitude he’ll encounter two pretty hikers. They’ll invite him to a Scooby Doo theme party, and fantasizing about what it might have been like if he’d shown up is one of the many things that’ll keep him going during his long imprisonment. Most of the movie is spent there with him, trapped beneath a rock, for 127 hours of solitude. The only thing on screen is Franco’s Ralston, with no one to talk to, nothing to do but sit and struggle and despair. Somehow, Ralston never gives in to panic; he’s too capable, too smart, too savvy for that. That doesn’t mean, however, he has a way out.

A lesser filmmaker would have blanched at the prospect of spending an entire movie in one place, with one character, and nothing to do but stare. A lesser filmmaker would have panicked and cut away, perhaps to show us a rescue effort underway, or to fetishize his grieving family. Danny Boyle never does. He doesn’t need to, James Franco’s performance, sitting in that one spot, is that good. 


Instead Boyle tries to find meaning in Ralston’s predicament. Aron sits and fantasizes about the choices he’s made and the people he loves. In more than one, feverish fantasy Ralston envisions himself freed and moving on. Some of these fantasy sequences are more successful than others. None of them are as good as the moments in which we simply sit with Franco, underneath that rock, and stare into the heavens looking for hope. None of those moments are as thrilling as his tiny triumphs of improvisation, his steely-eyed determination to find a way out, the minutiae of minute by minute life turned into grim life and death decisions. There’s some attempt to make a point about the way we’re all connected and how much we need each other, or to make a statement about the power of the human spirit. 

Franco’s best moments are almost entirely silent. The one that’ll stick with me, perhaps forever, comes after he’s finished the grisly, horrifying work of freeing himself. Aron stumbles back to survey what he’s done and for a moment, just a moment, there’s a smile. Standing there bleeding and dying, he steps back and grins, it’s the grin of someone who never thought he’d leave one spot and, no matter what happens from there on out knows he’s already won. His dirty, bloody, crooked smile in the face of unexpected freedom says everything there is to know about what’s happened and what matters most to Aron in those terrible moments. It’s a masterful performance by Franco, sharply directed with all the visual flair he can bring to bear on a single location by an unflinching Danny Boyle. 


The intelligent scriptural and visual treatment of the story makes sure that there is never a dull moment, despite the audience being effectively stuck in a cave with one anguished individual for 90 minutes. Given the near absence of supporting characters, the burden on James Franco to carry the movie was immense. He manages this with aplomb, eschewing sentimentality in his performance in favour of intricately carving out a highly credible and moving portrayal of a flawed man whose life is slowly ebbing away. 


At the end, we stagger like Ralston from the dark into the light. We might have both our arms left, but our nerves are just as terrorised(and me.......well i was in tears at the end).

127 Hours