Escape from the Planet of the Apes (1971)

Director: Don Taylor

Cast: Roddy McDowall, Kim Hunter, Bradford Dillman, Ricardo Montalbán

Have I Seen It Before: Oh, sure.

Did I Like It: First of all, and I don’t think my eventual re-watch of Conquest of the Planet of the Apes (1972) will turn me around on this, but as a general rule you can’t go wrong including Ricardo Montalbán in your science fiction sequel. I challenge you to find me an exception.

There’s a level at which I want to say this might even be superior to <Planet of the Apes (1968)>, and I’m not entirely sure it is insane. Certainly, this third film in the series is less iconic than anything that culminates in Charlton Heston trying to have an argument with a be-togaed French lady (shit, there I go again, spoiling the first one for you…) but even that is a subjective argument. Maybe Escape from the Planet of the Apes has some special meaning for you. What cannot be disputed is that Escape is a far cheaper film then either of its predecessors, to the point where the title almost begins to seem like a misnomer. Then again, A Trio of Apes Travel to and Attempt to Adapt to Life on the Planet of the Humans lacks a certain poetry.

Lest you think that is knock against the film, let me say without any doubt that quality is its secret strength. Right from the opening credits where we’re led to believe that cohorts of Heston’s Taylor or Franciscus’ Brent have somehow made it back to a recognizable version of terra firma, only to be greeted by two of our favorite apes from prior films (and a friend (Sal Mineo)) have somehow found their way on the other end of the franchise’s denial. A dour, foolish sort of person may look at this premise and say that the near-plausible accounting of time travel in the first two films (am I the first person to ever attach the word “plausible” to <Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970)>? Quite possibly, yes.) is flipped on its head when it is no longer a matter of time dilation, and instead a stable rift in the fabric of time which will allow travelers to travel back and forth between the simian and human ages.

What this premise does is trick—and quite masterfully so—the audience into letting their guard down. The jaunty Jerry Goldsmith score and the playful banter between Zira (Hunter) and Cornelius (McDowall) all makes you think that this is going to be “the funny one” in the series. For much of its runtime, Escape delivers on that process. We even get a delightful homage of Zira and Cornelius trying on human fashions. You are not prepared when matters become not only just as bleak as the two previous films, but heartbreaking to boot. No longer are we confronted with the massive tragedy of all of humans or apes being snuffed out in an instant, we are forced to watch the painful, tragic death of two characters we have grown quite fond of over the course of three films, and their child lives on, to start the process all over again in just about the only sci-fi headfake ending in this series to rival the first. The bleakness of this series becomes no longer an abstract, and it is all the more heartbreaking for it.

Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970)

Director: Ted Post

Cast: James Franciscus, Kim Hunter, Maurice Evans, Linda Harrison

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure.

Did I Like It: What’s more, I remember liking it quite a bit when I saw it nearly thirty years ago. There was just something about that ending which struck me as just bonkers enough to make the whole thing memorable. Now? It feels like the classic movie blunder of possessing not so much a conclusion as a halt to the proceedings. Taylor (Charlton Heston, returning but with a look plastered on his face that hopes beyond hope no one will notice him) pushes a giant red button in the furthest depths of the Forbidden Zone, and then we get Orson Welles’ non-Union equivalent in place of what would have satisfied simple, child-like tastes: a big explosion.

The problems with this one go a fair bit deeper (Ha. Get it?) than just the ending. The special effects are somehow even more dodgy than in <its predecessor>. Sure, some of that could be written off to the fact that some of the potentially more epic sights are actually tricks played on the apes by the denizens of the Forbidden Zone, but it’s pretty difficult to not get pulled out of the movie when battle scenes are actually two different shots—one of apes wandering the desert, the other of a fire—optically processed together.

One might be able to get over all that and try to embrace that vibe I must have seen it way-back-when, if it weren’t for the fact that the film feels the need to speed through all of the story beats of the last film, only with Brent (Francsiscus; speaking of bargain basement replacements for the iconic). This serves to keep me from really enjoying it, even on the terms of pure B-movie cheese. It gets a bit boring.

Planet of the Apes (1968)

Director: Franklin J. Schaffner

Cast: Charlton Heston, Roddy McDowall, Maurice Evans, Kim Hunter

Have I Seen It Before: Oh, sure. Those far-flung summers where all I need out of life was what I’ve come to think of as the Albertson’s Special. Some chicken from the Deli, and five VHS (kids, ask your parents) rentals (kids, ask your parents) from the grocery video department (kids, ask your grandparents). Perfectly fit for five-film franchises (at the time) of varying quality, like this or the Superman films (yes, I’m counting Supergirl (1984), and you should, too; it’s better than Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (1987)).

Man, to live again in a time when cholesterol and VHS tapes were all one needed on a hot day…

Did I Like It: If you’re reading this review, you’ve probably already seen the movie. Or, at least, you’ve seen the last few seconds of it. The ending was ruined a good fifteen years before I was ever born. But, if you’re a fan of that particular brand of pulpy sci-fi (read: the kind of stuff at which Arthur C. Clarke, and by extension, Stanley Kubrick, would turn up their noses), then there is hardly a movie I could recommend more. One might be tempted—before getting into either actor’s later politics—to say that Heston is really just bringing the same schtick to the big screen Shatner was still using to make his living on the original Star Trek. Maybe it’s hard to wander around the any American western desert in a torn spacesuit and not evoke something resembling Shatner. That feels like a complaint, but it isn’t. It’s an attempt to bring in more eyes who have just seen the Statue of Liberty (crap, now I’ve gone ahead and spoiled it too) to a movie that has more than few other pleasures to offer.