Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (2024)

Director: Wes Ball

Cast: Owen Teague, Kevin Durand, Freya Allan, William H. Macy

Have I Seen It Before: Nope. Brand new…?

Did I Like It: On spec this film has a lot working in its favor, and a lot working against it. For one, the previous trilogy of Apes films took a moribund franchise* and infused in with more than enough good will to go around. In my review of those films, I struggled to find anything that might not have been up to snuff, even with Rise of the Planet of the Apes (2011) my least favorite of those three films.

On the other hand, the fundamental engine which made those films as special as they are—spoilers, it is Andy Serkis—is nowhere to be found.

Where does that leave this film? Mostly fine. I think Owen Teague especially equates himself rather well, when he could have been overwhelmed by the legacy of the truly great performance which preceded him. He has a certain sensitive quality which brings to mind Roddy McDowall, and feels perfectly at home in this story taking place as the titular planet is more fully taken over by the titular apes.

The film that surrounds Teague’s Noa isn’t quite as good as its predecessors, although tis certainly a fair sight better than most of the movies for which the aforementioned Roddy McDowall had to politely show up. The larger portion of the first half of the film drags interminably, and feels like it is borrowing too heavily from the Serkis-led films. Each of the predecessors felt like a different from each other, which is enough of a small miracle from a modern blockbuster series. Once things pick up and the goals of the still-verbal humans out in the world become clear, things are a bit more interesting, but ultimately not as well-crafted. War brought the human race even lower, but this one seems to insist on retconning that to the point that almost most of the humans are behaving as if the Simian flu had only broken out last year as opposed to 300 years ago. It makes the saga all a bit murky, although, again, not nearly as murky as the time-loopy stuff of previous films…

Although if there are more Apes to come, maybe they’ll come around to that stuff too. More than a few characters do spend more than a little amount of time looking out through telescopes during the film, if you catch my meaning.

*For once, I’m not specifically trying to drag the later work of Tim Burton. For all of the charm that the latter entries in the original Apes films have, they weren’t exactly the big-time awe-inspiring experience of the original.

Fargo (1996)

Director: Joel Coen

Cast: Frances McDormand, William H. Macy, Steve Buscemi, Peter Stormare

Have I Seen it Before: Oof. Buckle up on this one.

I first saw the movie in perhaps the worst way possible, on TNT airings in the late 90s. And Goddamn it if the film still doesn’t work when every flash of violence is truncated and every use of the word “fuck” is replaced with the wonderful euphemism “frooz.”

When the customer (Gary Houston) who is berating Jerry Lundegaard (Macy) calls him a “froozing liar,” that is as memorable a moment as I’m likely to encounter in film.

Although the cutaway to Showalter (Buscemi) and Grimsrud (Stormare) with the hookers always felt strange when all we were showed was them watching The Tonight Show.

But isn’t like I’m still watching a version of the film which is cut down to allow the maximum number of basketball games to be broadcast on a given day. The movie became all the better on DVD and Blu Ray in the following years, but here’s the weird thing:

Before this last weekend, I honestly can’t remember if I’ve ever seen it in the theater. I’m thinking there might have been a 20th anniversary screening five years ago at the Circle Cinema, but I can’t be completely sure. During a time where there were plenty of movie screenings, they do all tend to blend together.

Which brings us to this weekend. It’s been a year since I’ve been inside a theater, and with two full doses of Moderna running through my veins, it was time to come back. Wide releases are still in drips and drabs, and I just didn’t want my first trip back to be for Godzilla vs Kong (2021) or, God forbid, Mortal Kombat (2021), so I went ahead and waited until a verifiably great movie.

Oh, to be back at a theater. The bright light of an unseasonably hot spring day, giving way to the cool darkness of the inside, only release me back into the daylight. The posters and massive displays for upcoming releases...

And the popcorn. Oh, it was a moment of revelation when I realized just how different movie theater popcorn is from the microwavable stuff I’ve been using to fool myself in the time of COVID. I’d go on about the experience, but I’m nearly 400 words into this review, and I haven’t really talked about the film itself. I’ll just say thank you, Fargo. It’s good to be back.

Did I Like It: Aside from the sundry ways I’ve taken in the film, the thing I’m always struck by when watching it is a big question:

Who is the protagonist of the movie? Marge Gunderson (McDormand) or Lundegaard? Gunderson is the clear hero of the movie; by the time she shows up the plot is driven forward exclusively by her. On the other hand, she doesn’t show up in the film until roughly halfway through the runtime. To not introduce the protagonist until halfway through the film flies in the face of conventional screenwriting wisdom. It shouldn’t work like this, but somehow it does. The only other film I can think of that has such a schizophrenic relationship to its protagonist and doesn’t come across as hopefully amateurish is Psycho (1960).

Lundegaard, on the other hand is there from the first frame. He’s the one who’s got a desire, a plan, and is a bit of a stranger in a strange land. Thus, his—just as much as Marge’s—story is the hero’s story, even if it all collapses in on itself in well-deserved tragedy and comeuppance. 

An argument can be made for either. Depending on when I see the movie, I go either way. It makes it a pretty fresh experience every time, or far fresher than a 25-year-old movie has any right to be.

The next big question central to understanding the film is that of the sad story of Mike Yanagita (Steve Park). I’ve talked to any number of people, and seen a number of written pieces on the film that deem it as nearly flawless, but that Marge’s meeting with Yanagita at the Radisson is a weird non sequitur that serves no purpose.

Wrong.

Marge would have never taken a second look at Lundegaard’s increasingly thorny nest of lies, if she hadn’t been confronted with the complete falsehood that was Yanagita. The story doesn’t happen without it. Jerry just might have gotten away with it, even though the plan would have still been a disaster the moment that cop ate it in Brainerd. Without Mike Yanagita, the whole story falls apart. Mike Yanagita is load bearing, and there isn’t a wasted moment in this entire movie.

Jurassic Park III (2001)

Director: Joe Johnston

Cast: Sam Neill, William H. Macy, Téa Leoni, Alessandro Nivola

Have I Seen it Before: I saw it in the theater… I think I’m still waiting for the final reel of the film to be delivered.

Did I Like It: Which brings us to the big question. Jurassic Park (1993) is the most Spielbergy of all the Spielbergian films. The Lost World (1997) was a pleasing enough diversion in which all of the key players felt like they were asleep at the wheel. The later movies (Jurassic World (2015) and Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018)) are engaging enough legacy sequels made by a creative team who clearly has an abiding affection for the source material. 

This film, however, sticks out like a sore thumb, or a thumb chewed off by a compy, or whatever dinosaur metaphor strikes your fancy. I like director Joe Johnston; The Rocketeer (1991) is one of my favorite movies. He’s been handed table scraps, here, though. The movie looks cheaper, with the CGI not aging as well as it does in the original movie (The Lost World had the same problem, but both films are saved from the absolute dregs of a Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (1987)) and story being thin enough to drive an SUV through.

By all indications, that story underwent a lot of last-minute changes. The script as written was thrown out right before production in favor a much simpler search and rescue storyline. Problem is, so many of the set pieces had already been storyboarded within an inch of their life. Thus the movie ends up trying to be two different movies, neither of which have anything resembling the spontaneity of anything resembling the human experience. One might think I’m being unfair thinking that a movie about dinosaurs meant to goose the numbers on action figure sales needs to feel authentically human, but when I can’t get over the fact that it is spectacularly divorced from the people making it, it bears mentioning.

This doesn’t even cover the fact that the movie doesn’t so much end as simply stops, with our heroes reaching the shoreline and the Marines and Navy are ready with Operation Deus Ex Machina. I liked spending some time with Dr. Grant again, but this isn’t the movie anyone would have hoped for.