In 2011, Rise of the Planet of the Apes
rebooted the beloved franchise in a way that made many people forget about Tim
Burton’s disastrous attempt to do the same thing in 2001.
Rise was far better than most of us expected it to be, but
the follow up, Matt Reeves’ Dawn of the Planet of the Apes
is one of those rarest things, a sequel that not only tops its predecessor in
every way, but straight up blows it out of the water. And I like
Rise, quite a bit actually, but the follow up is simply that
much better. This is up there with Edge of Tomorrow and
Snowpiercer vying for the best movie of the summer. Epic and
bold, it, in true Apes fashion, aims to examine the animal
in man by looking at the more human side of the animals.
Dawn is a harrowing adventure, full of
tension and intrigue that keeps you leaning forward toward the movie screen
throughout the entire film. Ten years have passed since Rise,
and in the wake of great ape escape a vicious virus—called the Simian Flu,
though it is really a manmade strain—has ripped through the human population.
While the humans have struggled to survive, tearing apart the very fabric of
society, the apes have thrived in the wilderness, building a civilization of their
own. In fact, neither side is even sure if the other still exists, they’ve got
their own concerns.
When the humans and the apes come into contact once again,
however, all of the old hard feelings come bubbling to the surface. Many of the
apes suffered greatly at the hands of the humans, while you’re hard-pressed to
find a human who didn’t loved ones to the plague they blame the apes. Distrust,
fear, and desperation make for a dangerous combination in the best of times,
and while individuals like Malcolm (Jason Clarke) on the human side, and the
ape leader Caesar (Andy Serkis), push for peace, others, like the one-eyed
bonobo Koba (Toby Kebbell), and Dreyfus (Gary Oldman), leader of a colony of
survivors in what used to be San Francisco, inch the two sides to the brink of
war.
From the very first frame where you see the titular
creatures, you can’t help but marvel at the character design. These don’t look
like actors running around with computer-generated layers piled on top of them,
they look like actual animals. You can distinguish every last hair, every drop
of water on their fur as they stand in the rain—it’s almost always raining—and
the subtle nuance of every facial expression comes across as clearly as if you
were watching an actual person. My point is, the effects are so good that the
apes look real. And they have to, otherwise the entire movie would fail.
But then a funny thing happens. You go from marveling over
how incredible the special effects are to not seeing them at all. They become
that natural, that much a part of the landscape you don’t notice they’re made
of pixels. Character and story quickly take over, and instead of merely
gawking, you find yourself emotionally invested in the events on screen. This
is the highest praise I can heap on the visual effects, that you don’t pay any
attention to them. They’re a make or break proposition for this movie, and they
deliver in full. Actors like Serkis and Kebbell, working in motion capture
suits, give performances that are every bit as powerful, more so if we’re being
honest, as their less encumbered counterparts.
Caesar and Koba are the standout characters in
Dawn, but they’re not the only memorable individuals. On the
human side, Malcolm has the most to do, but one thing the script from Rick
Jaffa and Amanda Silver does is create complex, sympathetic characters in
relatively limited space. For example, Malcolm’s lady-friend, Ellie (Keri
Russell), and son, Alexander (Kodi Smit-McPhee), don’t get many lines, but you
witness enough of their strained relationship that you feel for and identify
with them. No one ever sits down and lays out their entire backstory, but the
way the script is constructed, the way the characters act and interact—both
human and ape—paints a complete portrait. You don’t need to know every last
speck of detail to know these characters or understand their motivation. They
may be damaged and wounded, but they’re also capable of hope, joy, violence, friendship,
destruction, and all of the various elements that make up an actual person. Or,
you know, a super smart ape.
Reeves makes fantastic use of the 3D technology to create a
fully immersive visual world. Again, right from the beginning, he takes great
pains to pull you into the screen. As apes swing from branch to branch through
the California Redwoods, the camera follows their movement, placing you right
there with them. Surrounding you like this makes you feel like a part of the
action. You’re among the apes as they experience the shock of encountering
humans for the first time in a decade, and as the humans peer over their walls
at an army of apes on horseback, a truly terrifying sight to behold, your heart
jumps up into your throat, just like theirs.
Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is a near
perfect combination of everything you want out of a movie. The film works as
spectacle and adventure and appeals to a mass audience that only wants
entertainment, but at the same time, it also functions as an allegory and on
deeper thematic levels. Every last element, from the script to the visuals to
the performances, comes together to elevate what surrounds it. While some
movies are an endless downward spiral, Dawn is the polar
opposite, continually building, becoming so much more than a mere sum of its
parts; a haunting film that sticks with you long after you leave the theater.
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