Monday, 19 August 2013

Planet of the Apes

(Dir. Franklin J. Schaffner, with Charlton Heston, Roddy McDowall, et. al., 1968)


It is testament to Planet of the Apes enduring relevance to the popular consciousness that it required a very specific Google search to find this poster, and not one that gives away the twist ending. In fact, the cover of my DVD version has it towering over the title and taking up more space than the apes themselves. The disclaimer at the top of the page states (or at least does at the time of writing) that all my articles/reviews are spoiler-heavy, but I can't quite fathom the person who doesn't know that IT WAS EARTH ALL ALONG. The ruined Statue of Liberty on the nuclear-ravaged beach of the distant future is so culturally ingrained that one has no need to fear ruining Ape's ending for someone else.

What isn't known so well is the actual premise of Planet of the Apes and the series that follow it: setting out from earth in 1972 (remember, this is the product of a pre-Apollo 11 world), astronaut Taylor (Charlton Heston) and his crew crash land on an unidentified planet after two thousand years in cryo-sleep. They soon discover that the local wildlife principally comprises dim-witted human-like beings and vicious apes that enslave the human population and hunt them for sport.Taylor and co. fall into the apes' hands, where they are subject to experimentation from the chimpanzees, scientists in a class-based society with orangutan politicians at the top and gorilla soldiers and labourers at the bottom. Zira (Kim Hunter) discovers that Taylor isn't as intellectually and physically stunted as the other humans and, aided by Cornelius (Roddy McDowall), helps Taylor to escape the confines of ape society and the shady machinations of Dr. Zaius (Maurice Evans) - Taylor succeeds and gains his freedom only to learn what Dr. Zaius knew all along; the Planet of the Apes is Earth, destroyed by humans in the distant past. Hinted at in the film and later in the series (and presumably shown in the upcoming Dawn of the Planet of the Apes), twenty-first century society genetically engineered apes to act as slaves until they revolted and overthrew their human overlords, who had grown increasingly sedentary and stupid over the years.

So far, so pulpy '60s sci-fi. What distinguishes Planet of the Apes from most other contemporary science fiction (with notable exceptions such as 2001: A Space Odyssey) is the sheer amount of work that director Franklin J. Schaffner and his team put into making their world as rich, detailed, and, crucially, believable as possible. The ape prosthetics won a well-deserved Oscar and, while not as realistic as those used in the prologue of 2001, they do a tremendous job of conveying the emotions of the actors underneath. Kudos are due to Andy Serkis and his Caesar in Rise of the Planet of the Apes and all the advances and possibilities made available by motion-capture technology, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the apes of the newly rebooted series will lack the emotional depth and physically provided by something so comparatively simply as a latex headpiece. The apes' technology and culture is an intriguing mix of the classical, medieval, and futuristic - gorilla soldiers wield guns, Dr. Zaius is fascinated by archaeology, but cages are constructed from bamboo and there seems to be a total lack of anything more complex than the most basic of machinery. I can't claim to have read the French novel by Pierre Boulle upon which the film was based, but regardless the creators of Planet's universe clearly put a gargantuan amount of effort into fabricating a believable culture for the apes to live in, one they developed themselves upon the last vestiges of human society.

The inherently bizarre premise of the film benefits tremendously from the star power of Charlton Heston, who had already been a Hollywood megastar for the best part of  decade before Planet, thanks to The Ten Commandments (1956) and Ben Hur (1959). Heston chews the plaster scenery with every line he's given, the impact and gravitas of which is maintained through the remarkable lack of dialogue that characterises the first half hour or so, and even afterwards Taylor remains largely mute until one of the film's most quotable lines, given to Tom Felton as an homage in Rise. After forty-five or so years, Heston's closing diatribe against the hubris and destructive nature of Man seems delightfully cheesy, and is remembered in a more dramatic fashion in the public consciousness, much like the big reveal in The Empire Strikes Back, but has lost none of its pertinence or visual and aural whallop, impressing a bleak view on the closing moments of the film that lasts long after the credits have rolled. The likelihood of the world being blown to hell was of course a huge threat in the Cold War-laden atmosphere of the late 1960s, demonstrating sci-fi's ability to reflect the difficulties and problems of the era.

At the risk of referencing the same shows over and over again, I'll echo Trey Parker and Matt Stone's maxim that 'Simpsons did it,' my favourite reference to Planet of the Apes is from episode 7.19, 'A Fish Called Selma' (1996), in which Troy McClure (voiced by the late, great Phil Hartman) appears in a musical based on the film. Words can barely do this scene justice, so here it is in its entirety:


For those of you who have never seen that before, you're welcome.
I could keep counting every time Planet is referred to, but after Troy McClure, there's very little I could add, certainly nothing to top it.

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