Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (2014)

Director: Matt Reeves

Cast: Andy Serkis, Jason Clarke, Gary Oldman, Keri Russell

Have I Seen it Before: Yes.

Did I Like It: One doesn’t want to give themselves over to the auteur theory, but I am tempted to say that most of the qualms I had about Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011) are alleviated here, and I wonder if that can be laid at the feet of Matt Reeves. Callbacks (callforwards?) to the original Planet of the Apes (1968) are kept to a minimum. The pandemic storyline somehow went from the too-close-to-home ominous undertones in Rise to the hey-at-least-it-didn’t-end-up-that bad on display here. Most importantly, the human element is a real part of the movie, as opposed to the afterthought that is James Franco. And if you think that was easy to say with Jason Clarke in the film, you’re nuts.

The special effects may show their seams the most when those humans and the apes show up in the same frame, but that’s a forgivable problem. Any Apes film that completely conquers the uncanny valley when Ape shares the screen with human really wouldn’t be an Apes movie at all. Now, when the Apes are alone, it’s a different matter all together. They are still the far more interesting characters in the film, and I only say that because they are more interesting than human characters of practically any film of the era. Serkis is once again the master of acting through a digital effect, the same way Chaney or Karloff were the master of the physical prosthetic. There was more than a little chance that a new set of Apes movies would be something silly to behold even in the best of circumstances (I’m looking in your direction, Tim Burton). The fact that he alone not only brings a complete, often heartbreaking performance to a character in this setting, but he managed to do it twice (and in a forthcoming review, is likely to have completed the hat trick). You might see this review and think that there are too many Apes movies, but you owe it to yourself to see Caesar’s full arc…

And on that note, I really ought to give War for the Planet of the Apes (2017) another play through.

Terminator Genysis* (2015)

Director: Alan Taylor

Cast: Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jason Clarke, Emilia Clarke, Jai Courtney

Have I Seen it Before: Yeah.

Did I Like It: And you know what, I kind of liked it back then. Sure, it’s a film powered almost exclusively by convoluted time travel, but I like convoluted time travel. Convoluted time travel is my bread and butter.

But here’s the problem, man can not live on convoluted time travel alone, nor should he try. Ultimately, this film reminds me of The Magnificent Ambersons (1942). Wait, wait. Come back. I’ll explain. I had spent several years between screenings of that most infamous second film directed by Orson Welles. The ending was taken away from him, re-shot by Robert Wise, a perfectly accomplished filmmaker in his own right, if more of a journeyman than Welles. Now Ambersons has never been my favorite Welles film, and I always thought the legends about the bastardized ending were off, but during my most recent viewing of the film, it was such a stark difference between the work of Welles and Wise that it had become inescapable how altered the movie had become.

Similarly, when comparing the work of Taylor against the work of Cameron—especially in those scenes where Taylor is recreating Cameron’s earlier work in The Terminator (1984), that difference is once again inescapable.

This is not to say that the film isn’t riddled with plenty of other unforced errors at which I could wag my finger. The film is riddled with awkward Riker Moments, where one character describes a phenomenon in the most convoluted technobabble available, forcing another nearby character to describe the same thing in terms so simple that even the not-so-bright kids will get it. Narration repeats stuff ad nauseum, just in case those same kids didn’t get the dumbed down explanations the first time. This renders the whole thing a pretty depressing affair, even if, again, some of that convoluted time travel still tries to justify this film’s existence far more than was done for its equally dim-titled successor, Terminator: Dark Fate (2019).

But do you want to know what really annoys me about the film this time, if for no other reason than I am mad at myself for not noticing it the first time. This film is so slavishly devoted to the mythology and iconography of the Cameron-helmed Terminator films. One can take that as a flaw or a comforting dose of nostalgia. Both perspectives are valid. But how in the hell does Kyle Reese (Courtney) have a photograph of Sarah (Clarke; not that one; no relation) just moments before he climbs into the time displacement field, when the first film really goes out of its way to show us that same photo burning during a Terminator attack? I’m willing to acknowledge that the makers of this film probably saw the original. I’m just not so sure they were paying that much attention.

*I needed several tries to get that title right. It is, truly, an insipid way to spell that word. Everyone was right on that front, at least.

Pet Sematary (2019)

Director: Kevin Kölsch, Dennis Widmyer

Cast: Jason Clarke (sigh), Amy Seimetz, John Lithgow, Jeté Laurence

Have I Seen it Before: Oddly enough, no… Although it feels like the sight of Jason Clarke taking a walk in the middle of the night has bored me forever.

Did I Like It: That feels like a ridiculous question. No. No, I didn’t

Let’s talk for a moment about Jason Clarke. I’m sure he’s a perfectly fine person, but I can’t—after many attempts to make sense out of it—figure out how this man has become a regularly working film star. Between this, Winchester (2018), and Terminator: Genisys* (2015) he’s well on his way to becoming the Ted McGinley of tired franchise movies.

And for once, I don’t think it’s entirely, or even mostly Clarke’s fault that the movie surrounding him is a slowly simmering garbage fire. This film drags through it’s interminable (and yet somehow less than 2 hour) runtime as a mishmash of plot elements set up that go nowhere. The masked cult surrounding the Pet Sematary is introduced in the first few minutes, and hardly referred to again in the film. Pascow (Obssa Ahmed) loses his head** and then promptly has no role for the rest of the film. And even poor Gage (Hugo and Lucas Lavoie), the previous anchor of everything you would expect to come from the story of Pet Sematary has nothing to do other than act as a misdirection for the one profound change from the source material.

And that misdirection does pique peak interest from me during the screening, but unfortunately what appears to be the only rationale for the film to exist in the first place accounts for a minute, and there’s still a lot of movie to sit through at that point. In a fit of fancy I got a large drink and popcorn, so it still managed to be a pleasant way to spend an aftrnoon.

* Which I originally typed with the most ridiculous spelling I could imagine, only to find that the “correct” spelling was even more preposterous.

** It’s deeply distressing how proud I am of this sentence.