So, finally, we reach the end of the marathon of “Planet of the Apes” films in their formative generation. Given there are other sagas which cover an entire history of a story, it’s not too surprising that there are five of the things. Were they edited all together and re-divided, it’s probable that you could break them into a trilogy the same sort of length as the one for The Lord of the Rings; actually, this one would probably come in shorter than that one, even in its ‘theatre release version’.

Battle for the Planet of the Apes (1973)

The final section is one of more violence. I’d be hesitant to say that it’s more of the same that we saw at the end of the previous film, as there’s more than that. Yes, there’s a great deal of military fighting – with a title like that, what else would one expect – but we’re seeing the beginnings of a new society, as well as the foundations of the connecting link back to the second reel in the original film of five years ago. 

Now in the year 2001, Caesar has founded a separate ‘nation’ of a sort, and the tribe consists of both apes and humans who are work as servants to their simian masters. The apes have already progressed to a complete and unique culture of their own, and have also progressed to the point that they are oblivious to the fact they are now the ‘owners’ of indentured servants, claiming “no, humans are separate, but equal” when challenged on the matter. This is rubbish, and the most senior human, MacDonald (played by Austin Stoker), presses home the soon-conceded point.

The above may be the greatest lesson of this film: to be truly intelligent, one must admit to mistakes, including the mistake of not realizing what one was mistaken about. Clearly, this is something that both Caesar is able to do as leader, as well as village intellectual Virgil (played by Paul Williams, who went on to play the role on the animated TV series which I recall watching as a young boy… very young, you understand). 

All is not entirely equal even within each of the two groups of beings, however; not all apes are created equal, even if they are treated as such. Looking at species-based divisions of capabilities is impossible not to do, as the gorillas are clearly physically larger, uniformly dense as a post, and prone to react to anything with force and probably a great deal of it as well. During a class of the ape young, everyone is getting ‘book learning’ from the human teacher, and it is clear that not only are the chimpanzees more capable of grammatically superior and cursive communication, the gorillas are, as a group, not only the least successful of the community, they have little if any regard for the acquisition of this skill. Hitting, riding horses, and beating the crap out of people from The Forbidden City is what they wish to do a great deal of, none of this “reading” foolishness!

BRIEF ASIDE: many high schools are filled with this internal dichotomy, which is why there are both football teams and student theatre productions. Oddly, the former option is often engaged upon by gorillas, in character, if not in fact. Planet of the Apes, you became real in my youth… [ahem] Right, back to the review. 

Thankfully, they don’t wear the outrageous purple trousers of the poster, but there are a few oddities which seem to have survived some sort of non-stop regression to the Age of Wood technologically. Automobiles may not be manufactured anymore, but a fair few of them are still operating, as we see some of them moving about at one point; albeit not very fast or reliably, for that matter.

Caesar has heard the legend of the fate of Ape-kind, as well as the planet, as relayed to the past by his parents from the future. Seeking confirmation of this – as well as the opportunity to finally see the faces of his father and mother – he, Virgil, and MacDonald head to The Forbidden City and locate the Archives where 1″ magnetic video tape has survived to mostly provide the footage of the evidence given to the investigative committee back in the mid-1970s. This investigation causes the two groups – country and city – to eventually come to a state of war; one which the gorillas predictably welcome.

Of all the films, this is oddly the most complex, owing mostly to the number of things being stated or examined in it. We have the apes creating within their own society not only the same structure that we despise in the human one of today – racial segregation and division based on genetic history – but they are also creating an actual separation of themselves from another species which is treated as a lower life form only to be used for un-thinking labour. Is this the ultimate fate for any society; to be divided and incapable of treating all as equal? Is this, instead, merely the beginning of self-awareness which itself leads to a better existence where all are treated the same? Do either of those possibilities rely on their existence out-lasting the taking of power by the ‘gorilla peoples’ who tend to bring-about the end of themselves and everyone else through the first of the horsemen? Does a people’s life inevitably down to absolute power corrupting absolutely, or is it actually possible to avoid this somehow; either by pushing beyond it to a better version or through active choice?

This sort of intellectual questioning is precisely the sort of thing that SF – good SF – is made of. The samples of simple simians can be successful in distracting the viewer from the fact that really big philosophical thoughts are being considered here. Looking past these things is worth the time, should one wish to do so.

Battle for the Planet of the Apes (1973)
Twentieth Century Fox presents
an APJAC PRODUCTIONS, INC.

Directed by
J. Lee Thompson

Writing credits
story by Paul Dehn
using characters by Pierre Boulle
screenplay by John William Corrington & Joyce Hooper Corrington

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

Presented with the short film:

The Crimson Permanent Assurance (1983)

Written and Directed by:
Terry Gilliam

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.

For those of you wanting to be reminded which this is, it’s the one with the whales, people learn how to swear, Scotty uses a computer, and we get to chuckle at the way Chekov speaks. It’s also where we finally meet NCC-1701A. Yeah, that’s the one.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986)

Here we get the ‘fish out of water’ variety of time travel-based comedy – yes, I realize there’s a joke to be made there, but let’s try and be above that, okay? – and it’s probably a good thing as the whole “Spock needs to be re-built from scratch” deal is getting a bit tired. Sure, the Vulcan’s have a cool culture and everything, but there’s only so many incomprehensibly named ceremonies involving logic and ration thinking you can stand. At the core of any story you’re supposed to focus on who we as a people are, not who someone else is; to reveal that which is within ourselves is the key, is it not?

Given the rather unbelievable quality of the plot points, as well as the forgettable cinematography – the damned thing looks so much like a TV episode I swear they used the least number of camera set-ups possible without actually resorting to ‘nothing but the master shot’ for the whole picture – it’s a wonder that there are so many memorable bits of dialogue. I’d quote some, but there’s far too many spoilers as a result. Let’s just say that this is easily the funniest in the Star Trek series in any form.

The rules for time-travel are followed accurately (or as near as I can tell; nothing stuck out as wrong, let’s say), but there’s some fair amount of science which – even for Star Trek’s usual standards – is incredibly wrong and / or not developed enough dramatically.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986), alternate poster

BRIEF ASIDE: While the need to suspend disbelief is key to any story, and especially a movie, when something is done in Science Fiction, you’d like the science to be at least semi-plausible in some way. The exact details may be wrong, but when basic laws which are known to even someone as non-science aware as this artsy-bastard™ are not only ignored but stricken from the room, there’s something very very wrong.

The basic concept here is that our boys go back in time to 1986 (the time of the film’s release), when Grey Whales were alive, and no one had any fashion sense [see image of alternate poster, left]. To accomplish that, the ship zooms around the Sun to use its gravitational orbit as an acceleration mechanism to “sling shot” the ship into the past. The explanation on how this is accomplished is non-existent. The description of how it is accomplished is simply the actions which they achieve. A tautology is not acceptable to me, frankly. I’d like some pseudo-science at the very least, please.

Meanwhile, later, they “beam-up” a whale into the hold of a ship, along with the water immediately around it. Again, this isn’t explained as to specifics of the matter; beyond Scotty’s “I never donna this a-fore, Cap’n!” anyway. Once more, I’d like to have some pseudo-science about ‘increased pay-loads requiring greater power-supply’ and possible some sort of adaptation of their transporter array infrastructure – both for pick-up and delivery, for that matter – as well as some dramatic “golly, we’re never going to accomplish this, because of [whatever the pseudo-science demands are]” dialogue and story points. A missed opportunity there, really, and disappointing over-all in this area.

It really does feel like the team had a good time making it, however, and we have a good time watching it; they really feel like a team now, for one thing. Nothing wrong with that at all. In the end, all my grumbling included, worthwhile.

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986)
Paramount Pictures
co-produced by Industrial Light & Magic

Directed by
Leonard Nimoy

Writing credits
Gene Roddenberry (television series Star Trek)
story by Leonard Nimoy & Harve Bennett
screenplay by Steve Meerson & Peter Krikes 
and Harve Bennett & Nicholas Meyer

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.

Yes, another trilogy in a single post. I’m far too far behind with writing these v. the watching of them, so this is the best way to catch-up really. Besides, as with The Lord of the Rings in the previous post, the summation of Matrix as a project whole is the fairest way to approach the films, thus a single post makes sense to approach in terms of success with story-telling and so on, which is basically the reason for all of this being done in the first place by me.

The Matrix (1999)

This may be the perfect example of “it’s important to know when to stop”. While it doesn’t seem like they meant to – at least according to the material I’ve browsed about the story – the first film serves as the best allegorical telling of the New Testament I’ve ever seen. Granted, its thematically about redemption and conquering ‘false perception’ as found in Plato’s ‘Allegory of the Cave”, but basically it’s about the resurrection of Christ. Think what you will about Christianity, the notion that there is a life beyond the one we have here is an integral part of the faith, which is the notion this film adds to its other component of “there is one who is to come and free us from death”, and there’s nothing else I can get out of the film as a result. Surely the Brothers Wachowski were aware of it when they penned lines such as these:

CHOI: Hallelujah. You’re my savior, man. My own personal Jesus Christ.

MORPHEUS: You are the One, Neo. You see, you may have spent the last few years looking for me, but I have spent my entire life looking for you.

what else can they be getting at here, really? Plus the name of the girl is “Trinity”, another character is Seraph (the singular of “Seraphim”), and the city they’re heading to is called “Zion”? Then in the second and third Neo is dressed like some Martial Arts trained Jesuit Priest…? C’mon…

The effects are legendary – what with their possible creation of “bullet time” as a jaw-dropping visual – and the fight sequences are both imaginative as well as visually stimulating. Through both of these techniques we really believe that everyone is truly capable of what normally would be considered impossible. The fact the cast trained literally for months to learn both the basics of the techniques and specifics of each encounter clearly paid out in spades. In the same way you watch dance routines and think “damn, I want to be able to do that”, the same reaction occurs here.

The Matrix Reloaded (2003)

Let me just say, however, that watching the same guy who played Elrond in the last trilogy shoot and punch the hero in this one is a little off-putting to see. Okay, it’s a different character, and actors are not their characters, and yadda yadda yaddah… but it’s tough to get out of your head. Given he must have been shooting the two around the same time, it must have been tough from him as well. No wonder the guy went for some voice work in Happy Feet.

Now the second and third are just… well, indulgent, cash-grabbing, SFX-fests. Honestly. I ended up watching the first film for the second time in the afternoon, then the other two parts in the evening and I could easily have stopped at the first as I never felt that the final 260 minutes of the saga added much of anything to the tale, beyond seeing all the stuff exploded.

Okay, sure, there’s some neat stuff to look at, but one of the silliest things I’ve ever seen is the preposterous so-called “Burly Man Battle” where Nero beats the tar out of an increasingly ridiculous quantity of Agent Smith iterations. After about ninety seconds you just want to take the lot of them aside and say okay, yes, you’re very good and we’re all impressed, but what about some story development, hmmm? As if that’;s no enough, there’s so damned many little things flying around during the battle at the end of the third film you literally cannot understand what’s going on part of the time. You certainly can’t appreciate any of the detail in anything, so you wonder what the damned point is? There’s something like 500 little massively armed robot-guys running around in some shots, plus another huge cloud of “squidoos” pouring into the area… honestly, it’s not impressive in a Kurosawa sense; it’s simply numbing.

The Matrix Revolutions (2003)

There are many fights, they go on too long, there’s a sequence on a highway that’s tough to follow due to so much quick-cutting of shots… it’s all too much of a muchness, really.

If you took the last two films – and their two titles are meaningless to me, actually – cut all the fights down to 1/3 of their length, re-edited the narrative into a linear one without flash-backs and fore-shadowing, then chopped the transitionals and establishing shots in half by length, and then removed the all of the pretentious dialogue about the Matrix Mythos, you might have a film worth watching, but I’d be willing to bet that the result would still be too long to be worthwhile.

If anyone hasn’t seen the third film, I’d actually recommend watching the second film right ahead of the third, because there is literally no lag time between the two: Revolutions picks up nearly the same second you left Reloaded and there is no summary prologue or even dialogue to catch you up on what went before. The original plan was to have the two films appear within weeks of each other, but post-production delays caused the two to be separated by over half a year. This might have resulted in people being able to see one of them followed by the next inside of a week or less, what with films of this dimension staying in the theatres for a month or so.

However, if you’ve not seen the first in quite some time, I’d actually recommend watching the original prior to the second and then the third, because there’s so much stuff thrown at you so quickly it makes the Star Wars pre-quals look like an Emily Brontë story.

To be frank, I’d really suggest watching the first one, and then giving both the second and third a miss, unless you’re bound and determined to see the things. Life is too short…

Or, conversely, just watch the above ‘alternate ending’ instead. Far shorter, and possibly more satisfying.

The Matrix (1999)
The Matrix Reloaded (May 2003)
The Matrix Revolutions (November 2003)
Warner Bros. Pictures presents
in association with Village Roadshow Pictures
a Silver Pictures production

Directors:
Andy Wachowski  & Lana Wachowski

Written by:
Andy Wachowski  & Lana Wachowski

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.

There was a fair bit of discussion about whether or not it was ‘right’ for Guy “Mockney” Ritchie to join the ‘re-boot’ fad with a version of the character Sherlock Holmes. This, frankly, scares me. If Guy Ritchie, or Guy Madden, or even Guy Lombardo want to make a new version of the stories – and presuming there aren’t either copyright or other intellectual property concerns – then “go to it” say I. Rumour has it that there are fanatical, self-appointed ‘fidelity checkers’ who attend any production of the plays of Samuel Beckett, and if the production seems to be less than entirely traditional in its approach, they notify the Beckett estate and the director or production company are then either asked for a justification of the production design, informed they must cease production, or both. This sort of cultural deadening ought to be anathema to any creative person or even those who simply appreciate the creative arts.

Sherlock Holmes (2009)

So, that said, how did Mr. Ritchie do? Brilliantly, in my view.

The essence of the character is that of highly intellectual eccentric with a fountain of knowledge crammed into his brain and available at a moment’s notice. Coupled with that is his constant need for intellectual stimulation which can only be calmed briefly by the world, thus necessitating the injection of opium, consumption of alcohol, or non-stop experimentation with both. After that, yes, there are a bunch of things that need to be observed, but that’s the basic un-changeable nature of the thing.

Given the above character specifics, it’s hardly surprising that Robert Downie Jr. is the man in the role of the detective. While one shouldn’t say “he was born to play this”, as it sounds a bit too messianic for one thing, it still seems presumptuous to suggest that the reason for his chemical self-abuse in the 1990s was so that he would be a perfect actor in this series. None the less, it works.

There were a few reviewers who suggested that Holmes and Watson had more than tinge of “bromance” or possibly even homo-erotic tone to their friendship. Where this comes from may be a tetchiness about their verbal sparring, plus the certain jealousy when two flat-mates are separated due to one of them getting married. There is nothing more there, and its most probable piece of evidence pointed to by some would be that we see them initially arguing over the possession of an article of clothing; something which ‘Gay men argue about all the time’, which is ridiculous. the two men simple love each other, as any two close friends do, and not with a love “who dare not speak its name” as the parlance of their time phrased it. I wouldn’t have a problem with the two characters actually being lovers, but there’s insufficient evidence to get on one’s high horse about the possibility here, and that house isn’t about to get more disturbed than merely shifting around on its hooves a bit.

The fight scenes using a combination of ‘Baritsu’ and ‘Wing-Chun Kung Fu’ (but mostly the latter) are excellent, and aptly add to the story with both action and plot development. The nature of the villains and heroes are demonstrated and broadened, yet mostly the scenes add the thrill of the event more than anything. A huge chunk of the fight in “the Punchbowl Pit” probably could have gone without any perceptible loss, but that’s something that’s subjective; others would want more of it.

The ‘look’ of the thing is excellent, with the digital creation of Victorian-era London being nigh-on flawless. The one place where it does seem a tad fiddly is with the complexity of Tower Bridge’s creation: it’s almost too intricate and on our screen had some artifacts around its outline, making it stand out with a “hey look at how cleaver we are!” nature as a result. Given the up-scaling from a DVD image to an HD monitor, it was probably better in the theatres and could very well look fine on someone else’s screen. It bothered me, however.

What really could have been fixed – and wasn’t a result of various technical aspects – was the singular lack of colour in the image. The poster above is a good indication of the over-all palate of the presentation: cold, quite blue, and drab. Granted, London in the late 1800s was a damned filthy place, with much of the city covered in inches of coal dust, thus hardly somewhere you go to for the excitement of a riot of colours. Still, it’s a fairly prevalent trend in cinema these days, so the lack of saturation and colour range over-all is something I’m growing weary of.

Of additional concern is the sheer number of production companies involved in making what might have been a fairly simple film. Six production companies involved in initial creation is insane. Certainly the amount of digital effects – city skylines, ship’s hulls, bridges and so on – was necessary due to the star of the story being the location and time of the tale. It’s impossible to do something from the Sherlock Holmes ‘canon’ without showing as much of the city and its own character as is possible, based on technology available at the time. Still, couldn’t there be a way of doing all that which didn’t demand so much money and so much financial risk that the thing has to be an insanely huge block-buster in order to begin to cover its own costs?

Sherlock Holmes (2009)
a Warner Bros. Pictures presentation
in association with Village Roadshow Pictures
a Silver Pictures production
a Wigram production in association with
Internationale Filmproduktion Blackbird Dritte GmbH & Co.
and Lin Pictures (uncredited)

Directed by
Guy Ritchie

Writing credits
screenplay by Michael Robert Johnson and Anthony Peckham and Simon Kinberg
with screen story by Lionel Wigram and Michael Robert Johnson
using the characters “Sherlock Holmes” and “Dr. Watson” created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

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.