"Dawn of the Planet of the Apes,” directed
by Matt Reeves, 2014
Lenin pointed out that ‘of all the arts,
for us, the cinema is the most important.’
He probably didn’t have this kind of animal parable in mind however, but
he might have. The recent ‘Apes’ series – as opposed to the
older series – focuses on ‘animal rights,’
in which viewers sympathize with the orange orangutans, mountain gorillas, black
chimpanzees, bonobos and baboons. Like
the monstrous aliens of “District 9” living in apartheid-like townships, or
even Frankenstein, when so-called scary animals or monsters become more
sympathetic than humans, you know something is up. The first film, ‘Rise of the Planet of the
Apes,’ featured the breakout of the apes from a vicious medical testing
facility and a zoo in San Francisco, and their
escape across the Golden Gate bridge into Muir
Woods. They are led by an intelligent
chimpanzee named “Caesar,’ (Andy Serkis) advised by an intelligent zoo
orangutan, Maurice, while the fighters are led by an abused bonobo called
“Koba.” Koba was, of course, the
underground name for Stalin. Caesar, the 'good ape,' might be modeled after Californian Caesar Chavez.
 |
| Caesar |
Jail films resonate with audiences because
we’ve all been in a jail – either a job, a bad marriage, an intolerable
straight-jacket of a situation or a real jail.
The ape revolution seems to be the answer to the incarceration plague,
especially in the U.S. This is not incidental imagery.
This film takes place 10 years later, in a
dystopia after the almost complete collapse of human civilization due to the
‘simian’ flu. This is something like the
avian, swine, Ebola or AIDs virus – and it has wiped out most of the human
population. The freed apes are living on
Mt. Tamalpais
outside of San Francisco,
and haven’t seen a living human in several years. They have prospered – they hunt, live in a
large log village on the mountain and have multiplied their families. Of course, these are not only innocent and
abused animals, or intelligent animals, but perhaps stand-ins for primitive
peoples still living in the Amazon or on Pacific islands. Or any hunted tribe of rebels or slaves –
even Iraqis who resent someone seizing their power source - oil. Or something
like Orwell’s Animal Farm. All these
resonances show up in the course of the films.
Unfortunately, the humans do show up in this Edenic world. One particularly stupid one immediately shoots a young chimpanzee in his excessive fright. Evidently some immune humans still remain in the wreck of San Francisco. They need to turn on the power from the dam near Mt. Tamalpais, as their diesel fuel is running out. This involves the humans going into ape territory. The apes don’t need electricity – they have fire. Will the two groups be able to ‘co-exist?’ Caesar decides that letting them turn on the dam is preferable to a war where many apes will die. Caesar is no push-over, but he knows that fighting could destroy the ape society, so it is a parable of intelligent pacifism. On the human side, Dreyfus is the commander of the San Francisco colony, a former cop, and a guy who looks like Eric Clapton. He is preparing to kill all the apes to get access to the dam. A scientific ‘hippie’ family convinces Dreyfus that they can turn on the dam without killing the apes, as they understand these apes are not ‘merely animals.’ (And if they were ’merely’ animals?) Dreyfus gives them 3 days... or its war.
SPOILER ALERT
At any rate, while the dam does start
working again, the overall attempt fails.
The screenwriters have chosen to put most of the failure on the ape Koba, not the
humans. Koba sneaks into San
Francisco and finds the human's armoury of weapons and their
preparations for war. Instead of telling Caesar, he keeps this
knowledge a secret. Koba and Caesar have
been butting heads, but now Koba, in his rage at the humans, sets fire to the ape
log village and shoots Caesar with a purloined weapon, and claims the humans
did it. This is all done right in front
of a crowd of apes, so the scene is not credible.
The war starts. Bloody fighting around various San Francisco landmarks. Machine guns, tanks, fire. The armed apes defeat the humans after the
heroic efforts of Koba on horseback. After
the victory, Koba kills an ape ally of Caesar’s by throwing him off a balcony,
and jails the rest of Caesar's sympathizers like Maurice in a barred bus. At this, Caesar’s son finally sees that his
father is right about Koba (Stalin). Caesar is discovered badly wounded at the bottom of
a cliff by the scientific family. The woman
doctor nurses him back to health in the house he lived in as a young ape in San Francisco in the
prior film. The ‘good’ human father meanwhile attempts to stop Dreyfus from
blowing up the tower the apes are in by pointing an automatic weapon at him.
Then Caesar and Koba have their final showdown – and – contrary to ape law –
(‘ape shall not kill ape’) Caesar drops Koba off a tower because Koba ‘is
not an ape.’ At the end, we know the
‘war’ will continue – sequel #9, #9, #9?
Clearly this is a money-making machine
first of all, like most film series or childish comic casualties like
“Batman.’ Ending it would end the
franchise, but war is an unending and perpetually giving commodity. Film is the main medium that a
visually-oriented population connects too, not writing. So the series will continue until ticket revenue
drops, not when its narrative logic runs dry.
After all, how many films can center on just humans fighting apes forever?
More importantly, why do people connect
with this series? Does the audience
identify with the humans or the intelligent apes? I think at this point in both films the apes
are treated, except for the example of Koba, as far more likable. These animal revolutionaries are kinder than we expect. The humans are either stupid, self-centered or
vicious. Only one family of humans respects the apes, while the rest of the
humans are an undifferentiated mass, with a leader who will kill for
electricity. The main message is that
‘co-existence’ is impossible because the humans are only interested in
re-creating the same society that has been destroyed. The ‘war’ means that the world has basically
returned to barbarism – or perhaps any modern battlefield. And in that case, innocents must die.
Pessimism about humanity is at the heart of
this film, as it is at the heart of many dystopian and apocalyptic
stories. And indeed, when you look
around at who controls this world, you can’t fault the idea that much. Perhaps 'becoming an ape' might improve the situation.
And I saw it at the Riverview Theater
Red Frog
September 16, 2014
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