For some reason – and this is something that Hollywood has done since the year dot – the decision was was made to follow Planet of the Apes with another film, probably owing to some shouting “look at those box office receipts!” Thus was begat Beneath the Planet of the Apes two years later.
Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970)
Sadly predictable, this initially trod the same ground in its plot that the last one did: man lands in future, discovers Ape Planet, is confused, seeks escape from anarchic reality of simian over-lords. The difference here is that our lad “Brent” (played by the surprisingly good James Franciscus) has followed the exact co-ordinates followed by “Taylor” (played by Charlton Heston) and thus seeks the answer to whither the earlier mission. As the poster indicates, he ends up in the city which was once New York buried under a great deal of rubble. There he discovers the people who still live there, two millennium after the apocalyptic events which spawned the world we now see.
The chief good thing this film does is provide a conclusion to the arc which began in the first film: does intelligence and sentience breed a greater respect for life, or does it bring with it every other possibility; including fear of others and greed for what one already has, as well as a blind willingness to violently protect oneself from anyone, including the “pre-emptive strike” or “mutually assured destruction” techniques developed as defence strategies by the US military in the early-1960s? Is our own fate somehow pre-destined for us? In the first film, Taylor declares his hatred of fate, for it removes the practicality of making one’s own decisions, for it negates the control one ought to have over the results of that choice. Here, however, we see again that the Apes of all races are aping our own societal developments, by creating machines of war and training soldiers when no real threat exists. Does any group of beings create the need to defend or attack no matter what choices some of them might make?
We get a look at side of the new astronaut we didn’t see from ‘Taylor: he’s more of a thinking man than a military reactionary. Certainly, like the earlier character, Brent has his share of action, but he seems to be more contemplative about options before doing so. The way Heston delivers any line seems to put the undercurrent continually in the territory of “I am about to chew off your foot, you bastard”, whereas Franciscus tends to suggest that “while I may not chew off your foot, it still could be a possible outcome, depending on how things go”. A slim distinction, I’ll grant you.
The effects, the lighting, the sets, the costumes; they’re all a bit dodgy. the writing is a bit laboured at times, but it’s not so bad as to be close to the level of the others. Worthwhile, especially if you can watch it right after the first one.
The ending is a bit predictable, and seems to bring the series to a logical end. However, we still have three more films to go in this run of 1970s versions. Logic? They don’t need no stinking logic!
Writing credits story by Paul Dehn and Mort Abrahams using characters created by Pierre Boulle with screenplay by Paul Dehn
This year, I’ve been watching DVDs from the library for a number of reasons, mostly to do with a combination of “filling in the gaps in my ‘pop culture’ knowledge”, as well as a concerted effort to better understand story editing by both watching a film and then re-watching listening to people who have studied that particular movie for years in order to better appreciate the themes, plot construction, symbolism, and so on.
The process would be nothing without the secondary audio tracks. Sometimes it’s like having actually been through the film-making process with the people involved.
Why, for goodness sake, am I watching this series of films, considering they are frequently dismissed as ‘more than somewhat dodgy’? Simply because they are frequently dismissed as ‘more than somewhat dodgy’, in order to specifically determine why that is (plus if it actually is the case). I’ve heard everything from “run and hide from every film except the first” all the way to “they’re all brilliant; I could watch them forever”. This is hardly a definitive situation where it’s clear that one either loves or loathes the films. Thus, the series you see beginning before you, which will include all five of the films, plus the “re-imagining” by Tim Burton in 2001.
Planet of the Apes (1968)
A very good place to start – other than the very beginning, which this happens to also be – is that I’m not a fan of Charlton Heston’s ‘style’ of acting. It’s so very specific in its style that it makes me think of nothing save for the fact that I’m watching Charlton Heston act. This sort of lookit me lookit me! thing doesn’t do anything for the appreciation of anything other than the fact that you’re watching a film with Charlton Heston in it. One would prefer ‘a good film’ or even ‘an entertaining film’ to ‘a Heston film’ really, but apparently there is no validity of a Venn diagram showing films which are both good or entertaining plus are ones with Mr. Heston, such as the one below right.
So, one does have to ignore a fairly large portion of the film’s reality in order to dig through to the story which is supposedly why we’re watching in the first place.
This is an adaptation of the original novel La Planète des singes written by Pierre Boulle and published in England as Monkey Planet which would probably make Dr. Galen go ape-shit on the publisher.
No, I couldn’t resist.
The notion of either time– or space-travel revealing a planet which has a society far different than our own goes as far back as the notion of space travel itself. Jules Verne explored the idea with both outer and inner space with his novels for one thing, and HG Welles did the same.
With an intelligent source novel, adapted by Rod Serling and Michael Wilson, but especially Mr. Serling, the resultant film being one which examines society’s mores and notions of “normality” are far from surprising. This is exactly what we get here: what is right, what is wrong, what is the way things should be, why are any of those things in the way just proposed and not other ways instead? Given the reputation of Rod Serling, it’s a wonder one of the questions isn’t “why is there a Macaque on the wing of this plane?”
Anyway, the set-up here is that four astronauts are flung into space in the late 20th Century, with the idea they’ll arrive somewhere in the late of the 40th Century. After landing in the conveniently placed lake, three of them get out and eventually make their way to the settlement of the humans, where they are scooped-up in a capture of them all by the Apes whose planet we’re titularly on.
Venn diagram showing data set “Heston / Good / Entertaining”
Let’s take a quick look back at that assignment of personnel in rocket, however. Four people, all potentially supposed to provide the start of a new civilization. We have a ‘leader type’ (Heston, owing to his ability to ‘out noble’ anyone in the room), a ‘science/research/learning type’, an ‘engineering/mechanic type’, and a type we never get to know anything about because they die during transport because the ‘engineering type’ responsible for building the ship screwed up and something went wrong with the life-support system. All of them, save for the dearly departed, are male. I suspect the ‘science type’ of being black for reasons of tokenism in the casting due to the time of release, and not for some fidelity to creating a racially-divergent population in the new time period. Now, if everything had operated according to plan and all of the crew had arrived in tact, how long would it take to populate an otherwise barren, but inhabitable planet, with only one female and three males? This hardly seem efficient. What ought to have been done, in theory, would have been to send into space three highly trained and qualified females of the three varied study areas, and one particularly enthusiastic male. Three wombs are better than one, and all that. In either scenario, we still have half-siblings subsequently breeding with one another, but it’s probable that the birth mothers would be sufficiently distant genetically that the risk of problems would be minimized.
But… back to the plot.
What we end up dealing with here speaks to the era’s question of racial superiority; or, more to the point, racial inferiority. The characters ask questions such as “do the humans have a culture” and “are they capable of rational thought” as well as “do they learn or do they mimic”. All of these were posed about African Americans in the 1960s, and fifty years earlier about women (only the white ones, obviously). Today, when watching this same film, the notion of animals occurs – dogs, cats, horses, and so on – and should they be considered as living beings as well, given we talk to our pets with the knowledge of their comprehension.
Even though the ending is one of the singular most referenced going – in a list with a burning sled or endless boxes of inventory, a trio of heroes being presented medals in front of a rag-tag bunch of rebel soldiers, or a wagon with the bodies of wanted bandits on it being driven into the distance – it’s surprising that the image would be used as a background for one of the DVD menus. If you’ve not seen this film, I shan’t spoil it for you, but I’m saddened that the DVD makers tried to.
All in all, the consideration of the issues is handled with subtlety, and is distinctly un-ham-handed. Given the time, the lack of priority given the quality of other SF movies of the period, and a host of other reasons, this is commendable. Quite worth the time to watch, even if you’ve seen it before; and especially if you’ve not seen it for quite some time, as you may be surprised at how fresh it seems.
Pity about Heston, though…
Planet of the Apes (1968) produced by APJAC PRODUCTIONS, INC. with an un-credited Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation
Directed by Franklin J. Schaffner
Writing credits screenplay by Michael Wilson and Rod Serling from the novel by Pierre Boulle
This year, I’ve been watching DVDs from the library for a number of reasons, mostly to do with a combination of “filling in the gaps in my ‘pop culture’ knowledge”, as well as a concerted effort to better understand story editing by both watching a film and then re-watching listening to people who have studied that particular movie for years in order to better appreciate the themes, plot construction, symbolism, and so on.
The process would be nothing without the secondary audio tracks. Sometimes it’s like having actually been through the film-making process with the people involved.
Of all the films by Monty Python, this the closest they got to having a go at returning to where they bagan: sketch comedy. Pretty much ignoring narrative altogether, they presented this series of ‘bits’ with a common theme of the most inclusive scope possible: Life. I mean, making a film about ‘life’ means you get to put anything in it, from epic battles to watching sheep. As long as it’s part of ‘life’, then you’re on safe ground, aren’t you?
The Meaning of Life (1983)
Still, there are a number of slightly more pertinent portions of the experience which are employed to direct our concern to the precise nature of “life; what’s it all about, anyway?” Birth, religion, dreams, death, sex, learning, eating in a restaurant, fish, working life, health, and then finally death. It’s all here.
Oddly, there’s a few times that the actual ‘meaning of life’ is specifically addressed, and they’re not all completely concerned with fish. There’s a quite beautiful monologue featuring the waiter “Gaston” in an idyllic setting describing his mother’s advice. While it’s not actually fully linked to the phrase “…and that’s what life should be, you see”, the matter doesn’t need to be: the advice is there for those who recognize its simple solution. For those who are incredibly slow on the up-take of information and require a large, heavy object to gain their attention, the “Meaning of Life” is read to us by The Lady Presenter with the less-than enthusiastic introduction “it’s nothing very special.” That both of these sequences are performed in a ‘throw-away’ fashion and immediately followed by ‘shock humour’ text speaks clearly about how obvious the answer to one of the most pointless questions ought to be.
Yes, the question is important, absolutely. Giving over one’s entire life to making sense of the thing is – according to Monty Python’s fellers – a bit of a waste of time, really. Life won’t make sense, no matter how hard one tries, and no matter how one wishes to find patterns. It’s a journey, and we drop things from the caravan, someone farther down the line of humanity picks it up, or maybe not, and we keep going onward through the wasteland.
May as well have a bit of a chuckle while you’re moving along, then, eh?
The Meaning of Life (1983) Celandine Films The Monty Python Partnership Universal Pictures
Directed by Terry Jones
Written by Graham Chapman&John Cleese& Terry Gilliam&Eric Idle&Terry Jones&Michael Palin
This year, I’ve been watching DVDs from the library for a number of reasons, mostly to do with a combination of “filling in the gaps in my ‘pop culture’ knowledge”, as well as a concerted effort to better understand story editing by both watching a film and then re-watching listening to people who have studied that particular movie for years in order to better appreciate the themes, plot construction, symbolism, and so on.
The process would be nothing without the secondary audio tracks. Sometimes it’s like having actually been through the film-making process with the people involved.
Mood: weird Music: Dexter Gordon, Go (Blue Note Records, 1962) Book: Ian Fleming, For Your Eyes Only (Penguin, 2006 re-issue, ISBN9780141028255)
Why both? Well, because when you consider them as a pair, you actually want to watch the second one, as opposed to trying to get into the Hellboy world with only the first one to judge from. Originally I hadn’t intended to watch the second, having had the first leave me under-whelmed. I’m glad I gave the hornèd red guy a second chance, however, as there’s some pretty good stuff going on here. Credits and trailers for both films follow the babbling.
What the first film suffers from in my mind is the same thing any film adaptation of a TV or Comic Book series suffers from: initial introduction of the characters and rules of their world massive information download. Given the complexity of any Fantasy / Horror / SF / Alternate Reality landscape, if you are approaching the making of the film – or book, or whatever – as it being the first of several, the result is that at least the first third of your initial movie – or volume, or whatever – is going to be akin to reading out a set of rules and regulations at the start of the school year. Remember that bit in Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life at the start of the classroom lecture which involved a long list of instructions about things to do if you were getting your haircut, but your older brother’s clothes were already on a lower peg and he wasn’t… Oh never mind, here it is, and watch it until just past the minute mark for what I’m talking about.
Right, got that? That’s my point, you see. Welcoming people into the world of Hellboy or Batman or The X-Men or The Lord of the Rings or whatever, is – if you’re not careful – just like that. Sadly, it’s also entirely necessary. While not every rule about the world is required straight off, you do need to know, for instance, that Harry Potter has been orphaned and left at the door of someone’s home, and that he’s not entirely a normal boy. That way, when you learn he’s a wizard, then the world of wizardry can be introduced to you the reader of the book or the viewer of the film along with our little lightning-bolt bearing laddie. This is also the advantage when adapting something in which the ‘rules of the world’ are actually being introduced to someone in the story, along with the readers or watchers.
Hellboy (2004)
The world of Hellboy, however, almost entirely exists before you get there, were it not for the ‘new guy’, John Meyers (played by baby-faced cuteness Rupert Evans), who is a recent graduate of FBI training supposedly reporting for his first assignment, which is at some place he’s never heard of and neither has the rest of the World (which is how the US Government wants it, thank you very much). Thus, in a sense, he becomes our way into this bizarre land of huge red men who use belt sanders to control the length of their horns the way normal people clip their finger nails.
The problem is that we’re introduced to so damned much here that the actual “doing of stuff” is so limited in opportunity that you really don’t have much foreplay before penetrating the actual adventure story itself. Not only do we first have to understand the initial discovery of Hellboy by the Nazis, we also have to meet his new protector and adoptive father Professor Broom, and the US Army Unit he’s with; plus Rasputin and Ilsa, who have opened-up a portal to another dimension and awakened forces known as “The Seven Gods of Chaos” on a tiny island off the coast of Scotland (you know, the way the Nazis were always doing); then have some time pass and we meet a much older Professor Broom (John Hurt); plus The Man Now in Charge, Tom Manning; plus a fish-like guy named Abe Sapien, who is a sort of empath; and then we meet the titular character. But a crisis occurs and we go and save the city. Meanwhile we get Hellboy’s flame Liz Sherman introduced as well, who has her own oddities, and that’s when the story really starts.
So… confused yet?
Honestly, it’s a damned heavy bit of lifting getting into the mythos of this world, especially given 99% of the people we meet in the opening sequence are seemingly erroneous once we’re past the titles, barring their responsibility for Helboy’s existence, and even the one who we do follow suddenly gets 60 years older. Coupled with the fact the opening’s visuals are so explosive and exciting – for most films this would qualify as SFX worthy only for a climax – it’s damned tough to have anything follow it at all. The only way to have gotten around that false climax would have been to get our boy to the secret base right at the start, then meet Professor Broom, chat for a few minutes, and then have Meyers get a briefing told in flash-back, so that we can have him reacting to the whole thing as we also do. I’m not sure there’s much to be gained through that, although it might seem far to superior to those who prefer things that way. Neither is actually better, it’s simply a matter of preference.
Anyway, Hellboy goes off with Fish-Guy and the ancient, underground city is ultimately saved after Hellboy gives in to Rasputin demand that Hellboy use his “Right Hand of Doom” to finally free the Seven Gods of Chaos. In other words, it doesn’t get any easier, no. Still, there’s some good action, you get a fair bit of character detail, and the visuals are fantastic.
Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008)
The second film is far less work, mostly because you’re already up-to-speed with who the red guy is, plus his friends and co-workers. The story in the second film is far easier to follow as a result as well. Being in a far less time-spanning narrative makes this far more self-contained. However, the size of the saga is still substantial, involving an albino man (Luke Goss) who turns out to be Elfin Prince Nuada, who wants to get a missing bit of the crown his father King Balor broke apart, plus another bit that his sister, Princess Nuala, has in her possession. He must be stopped from doing this. There’s also a new character brought in: the bossy-pants Johann Krauss, who is incredibly intelligent and – sadly – he knows it and ensures that everyone else is aware of it as well. The whole pathos / humour balance is wonderfully accomplished, and kudos to writers Mignolo and del Toro for achieving the perfect mix.
The one sad thing is that we don’t have FBI-guy John Meyers, which is too bad as he’s the only normal human left in this world, it seems. Apparently actor Rupert Evans was already booked for a run of Kiss of the Spider Woman during the filming period and couldn’t make the shoot in Budapest, London, and County Antrim.
In both films, it’s the visuals that make the stories work. Director Guillermo del Toro has an incredible gift when making fairy tales come to life, and seemingly takes the attitude that ‘less’ isn’t ‘more’, less is less; so let’s have more! The frame is rammed-full of textures and details for no reason other than “because he can”, and they all work perfectly. Something that often gets short shrift, when a folk tale or super-hero story gets a film made of it, is that these things aren’t supposed to be peopled with pretty things, but lumpy and ugly stuff! When a set of rocks suddenly leap up and reveal themselves as a gigantic creature, there are oddly-shaped ovoids that don’t perfectly come together! This is far more disturbing, as the sense of it seeming to be designed by humanity, or controlled by some sort of rational aesthetic, might cause it to seem more ‘normal’. Randomness and anarchy are always disturbing. S. del Toro embraces that, thank goodness; especially when dealing with the world of Nature.
So… oodles of work here for the casual viewer, yes. If you found the first one a bit too impenetrable, it’s understandable, but see the second one and I can guarantee you a better time and a far more entertaining one as well.
Hellboy (2004) Revolution Studios presents Lawrence Gordon Productions Starlite Films in association with Dark Horse Entertainment
Directed by Guillermo del Toro
Writing credits Guillermo del Toro (screenplay) Guillermo del Toro (screen story) and Peter Briggs (screen story) Mike Mignola (comic books)
Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008) Universal Pictures presents in association with Dark Horse Entertainment, Internationale Filmproduktion Eagle, Lawrence Gordon Productions, and Mid-Atlantic Films in association with Relativity Media
Directed by Guillermo del Toro
Writing credits Guillermo del Toro (screenplay) Guillermo del Toro (story) &Mike Mignola (story) Mike Mignola (comic book)
This year, I’ve been watching DVDs from the library for a number of reasons, mostly to do with a combination of “filling in the gaps in my ‘pop culture’ knowledge”, as well as a concerted effort to better understand story editing by both watching a film and then re-watching listening to people who have studied that particular movie for years in order to better appreciate the themes, plot construction, symbolism, and so on.
The process would be nothing without the secondary audio tracks. Sometimes it’s like having actually been through the film-making process with the people involved.
Mood: contemplative Music:CBC Radio1’s On the Coast Book: Ian Fleming, For Your Eyes Only (Penguin, 2006 re-issue, ISBN9780141028255)
HOLYCOW! This is like someone took an entire hydro station and plugged the franchise into the main output! In no way did I expect to see something as fully accomplished and rejuvenative to the characters and mythos as this in my wildest dreams! The characters are the ones we’ve loved for years, yet they’re both familiar and surprising in their traits simultaneously! YOWZA!
Star Trek XI: Star Trek (2009)
Like most, I had little hope with the prospect of someone actually accomplishing anything new and exciting from the ashes of the original, and have still not seen anything created by J.J. Abrams, the supposed wunderkind of the new Hollywood. I was so very wrong. With his crowning as ‘the new hot thing in town’, Abrams has re-introduced the “director as auteur” into film-making. Like Citizen Kane – bear with me now, this isn’t as much of a stretch as you might think – what we see here isn’t any new techniques being employed, but a perfectly selected array of old techniques being used in the right way for the right reasons at the right moment. He is determined to use literally everything at his disposal to ensure that the perfect frame is chosen during the entire length of the movie being on screen. Literally hands-on, he’s personally shaking the film magazine during filming of scenes which require it (if a bomb went off in reality, no camera would remain still), using old techniques like actors standing on mirrors to reproduce the sky, pointing little flashlights at the lens to create lens flare which add ‘you are there’ moments of reality… he does everything but actually apply his own blood to the surface of the film to add colour!
It’s probable that the only other director working in Hollywood today to this level of facility with movie-making as an artform is David Fincher. Both of these men use every single visual technique possible to make the story live beyond the confines of the screen. Both seem to approach the task with far more enthusiasm and creative freedom than simply locking off the camera, telling the actors to ‘do stuff’, and then yell “cut!” after they’re done. This is a film, they admit that, we admit that, we all know it’s fiction, so how do we make everything come alive in a way to make the viewer forget that it’s not real? Directors should – nay, must –do more than merely watch what’s happening during playback. If they are engrossed with their task and actively participate in it, so are we, the audience.
What’s especially exciting and laudable is that Abrams loves the randomness of doing everything possible in the lens, optically, relying on CGI only when he has to, or if it provides measurably better results. The people at ILM had a devil of a time re-creating Abrams’ camera shake when they were doing their SFX shots, so they gave up on computer programmed ones and used human-created patterns they then placed on the digital images. Watch the extras on the DVD to really get an appreciation of the work the team put into the whole picture, as well as re-watching the film with the hysterical commentary track with Abrams and the writers.
It’s all here, even the crazy green women for Kirk to make out with. Not only that, we go through the whole “introduction of the characters” in a way that – unlike the movie in 1979 – is actually interesting and highly entertaining! Mostly, this is due to the fact that they’re telling us a story through the whole film, and we get to know the characters in a proper way if the earlier TV shows and films hadn’t been made: we get to know the characters as they get know each other and themselves. Yes, indeed: character driven stories, with action and humour thrown in as well. Thank the Lord!
Were it not for this film, I would declare Star Warsfar better than Star Trek. As it is, I’m so excited about the second film in this new series I might poop my pants.
However, here’s an ‘alternate ending’, from the guys who know how to suggest these things.
Star Trek XI: Star Trek (2009) Paramount Pictures presents and Spyglass Entertainment also presents apparently, Bad Robot and MavroCine Pictures GmbH & Co. KG (and who doesn't love a romantic name like that?)
Directed by J.J. Abrams
Writing credits written by Roberto Orci &Alex Kurtzman Gene Roddenberry (television series Star Trek)
This year, I’ve been watching DVDs from the library for a number of reasons, mostly to do with a combination of “filling in the gaps in my ‘pop culture’ knowledge”, as well as a concerted effort to better understand story editing by both watching a film and then re-watching listening to people who have studied that particular movie for years in order to better appreciate the themes, plot construction, symbolism, and so on.
The process would be nothing without the secondary audio tracks. Sometimes it’s like having actually been through the film-making process with the people involved.
Ian Alexander Martin [IAM] is the Proprietor of Atomic Fez Publishing, as well as formerly being an actor and theatre director based in British Columbia, and also was Founding Editor and Publisher of the theatre magazine The Boards. [read more]
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