The Order

Dawn of The Planet of the Apes

By the time we arrive at the third installment of a trilogy, I usually think the whole concept has “jumped the shark.” I found 2001’s reboot of Planet of the Apes supremely underwhelming, failing to live up to the intriguing, subtle social commentary of the Charlton Heston (The Order) original. I don’t think it was a hit with audiences either, and maybe that’s why it was ten years before someone thought to make a sequel, giving us 2011’s effective installment featuring James Franco (This Is the End). The trailer for Dawn of the Planet of the Apes promised a shift in storytelling, and since the second edition was entertaining, I was fairly optimistic.

Dawn opens in a post apocalyptic future, where a simian flu has ravaged the planet. Juxtaposed with this doomsday scenario is a bleak forecast whereby apes have evolved higher than what could’ve been imagined – thanks to man’s insatiable need to take technology past its moral end. Years of primate experiments have created a highly intelligent species of ape. The dwindling human population coupled with the rise of the apes has shifted the balance of power between species, with humans trying to restore the power grid after most of the world has been wiped out. A sizable community of apes have established themselves in the outskirts of San Francisco, living perhaps as early humans once did.

Their establishment of a moral code evinces their keen intelligence, serving as a fascinating sociological exercise in evolution and development. We met Caesar (Andy Serkis, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey) in the last Apes movie, and he is featured again in Dawn of the Planet of the Apes as the unquestionable leader of his tribe. He is everything one would desire in a leader, human or otherwise. He is patient, slow to anger, and governed by a sense of right and wrong. When a small band of human survivors surprisingly confronts the apes, Caesar reacts with prudence rather than fear. This puts him at odds with the other apes, namely best friend and secret nemesis Koba (Tony Kebbell, The Counselor), an ape that lacks Caesar’s favorable impression of mankind.

Circumstances dictate that humans and apes collide when it becomes clear that man needs the resources of Caesar’s territory to ensure its survival. Thus the stage is set for a standoff of Darwinian proportions. Malcolm (Jason Clarke, White House Down) compassionately leads the human explorers, but he answers to Dreyfus (Gary Oldman, The Dark Knight Rises) who is much more skeptical about the possibility of striking a peaceful understanding with the apes. With a nod to the jingoism and xenophobia of the current climate, the film depicts the fear we as humans (read: Americans) harbor toward those that are different from us.

While the movie was somewhat predictable in its story arc, I appreciated the parallel between Caesar and Shakespeare’s Caesar, as well as the humanization of these computer-generated characters. There was obviously a conscious shift in storytelling to feature the perspective of the apes more centrally, foregoing the human outlook and aligning the viewer with Caesar from the outset. Who can deny man’s incessant need to assert his dominance over others? History alone has taught us this. I found Dawn of the Planet of the Apes to be vastly entertaining, and in a sea of heretofore summer mediocrity, it stands out as worthwhile summertime fare – at least for now. Grade: B+

This article first appeared at Poptimal and was reprinted with permission.

 

42

A few days ago I had the pleasure of watching 42, the historical account of Jackie Robinson’s integration of major league baseball in 1947.  Robinson is a central figure in Black History, but he was an American hero whose story can be championed by all.

The movie starts without a single opening credit, with director Brian Helgeland (The Order) providing an account of the historical context of American life in 1947 and by extension, baseball.  Segregation was the law of the land, but Brooklyn Dodger president Branch Rickey (Harrison Ford, Cowboys & Aliens) had the progressive inclination to add a Negro player to the team.  Robinson (played by newcomer Chadwick Boseman) possessed a blend of athleticism, youth and pedigree that made him the clear choice over other talented Negro League players, like Satchel Paige.  Although Robinson is a legend, it took a visionary like Rickey to provide the platform for change.

Robinson faced profound and insidious discrimination.  When he stepped up to home plate he was jeered by fans as well as opposing teams.  Opposing pitchers threw at his head, and while playing first base during his first year an opponent intentionally speared him with his cleats.  Throughout this abuse, Robinson maintained his dignity and composure.  One couldn’t even say that a lesser man would have retaliated, because any man would have.  Rickey carefully explained to Robinson that he would never be able to react to the abuse or else the “experiment” would fail.  He bravely served as baseball’s test case to end segregation, enduring ceaseless racism at every turn.

Despite my overwhelmingly positive thoughts about the film, I do have a few minor criticisms.  Harrison Ford’s portrayal of Branch Rickey was very blustery.  He could have pulled back a little bit; but maybe that’s how Rickey really behaved.  If so, I should give him credit.  But if that was Ford’s own interpretation; I found it annoying.  Another minor quibble is that the filmmakers started the movie with a recitation that some may find boring.  I was interested, but it did come across as something you’d see on PBS or some other educational channel.  I do think it was important to set the appropriate historical context for the movie, but it felt like a perfunctory start.

42 balances the ugliness that occasionally marred Robinson’s baseball career with the warmth and purity of the love he shared with his devoted wife Rachel (the talented Nicole Beharie, Shame), a young woman he met while enrolled at UCLA.  Rachel kept Jackie grounded and was a source of peace and solace in an otherwise tumultuous world.  Despite the abuse that Robinson suffered, his time on the diamond was characterized by great triumph as well.  On the most fundamental level, Robinson was an outstanding athlete who wanted to be judged on his merits rather than his skin color.  This simple tenet is the cornerstone of our democracy, but 66 years ago Robinson struggled to receive the most basic allowances that we take for granted now.

Robinson portrayed himself in his own biopic decades ago, but this is the first dramatization to give proper attention and dramatic effect to his story.  Boseman’s big screen debut ostensibly came with lofty expectations, but I think he more than ably captured the humility and quiet strength that Robinson personified.  I think all Americans should see this movie about one of the most transformative figures in our shared history.  Grade: A-