Opinion | The Underappreciated Genius of ‘Planet of the Apes’

There is no franchise in Hollywood filmmaking that is as consistently good, and as consistently interesting, as “Planet of the Apes.”

I feel very strongly about this, and not because I am an admitted enthusiast of genre filmmaking. Like any long-running series, “Planet of the Apes” — which spans 10 films and more than 50 years — has its lows. But those are well outnumbered by the films that deliver real thrills, showcase strong (and occasionally exceptional) performances and, rare among Hollywood movies of its type, provoke thoughtful discussion of serious ideas.

If you somehow are not familiar with the premise of “Planet of the Apes,” it is surprisingly straightforward. In the far future, mankind has regressed into animalistic squalor — unable to speak or reason — and intelligent apes have stepped into the sunlight as Earth’s premier sentient species. The first five films, beginning with 1968’s “Planet of the Apes” and concluding with 1973’s “Battle for the Planet of the Apes,” tell the story of the fall and rise (and fall again, perhaps) of ape society.

The 1968 film, starring Charlton Heston, is a masterpiece. Directed by Franklin J. Schaffner, who would go on to win an Academy Award for best director for “Patton,” with cinematography by Leon Shamroy (best known for his work on “Cleopatra” and “The King and I”), it begins as a sparse and desolate disaster film, with a trio of astronauts wandering a seemingly strange planet of blue skies and desert vistas. When the apes finally arrive — as predators hunting a roving band of humans — it is in a kinetic sequence of genuine intensity. From there the film becomes a drama of sorts, as Heston’s cynical and misanthropic protagonist, Taylor, tries to prove his intelligence to ape scientists and escape lobotomization and castration at the hands of ape leaders. The movie ends, of course, with Taylor and his human companion Nova stumbling on the ruins of the Statue of Liberty, at which point Taylor damns the people of his time for their folly. “You maniacs! You blew it up! Ah, damn you! God damn you all to hell!”

The first sequel, “Beneath the Planet of the Apes,” is mostly a retread but for its conclusion: an all-out battle between the apes and a hidden society of mutated human beings who worship an armed atomic bomb as a god. The film ends with a dying Taylor detonating the bomb and destroying the planet. The screen goes white while a narrator explains, “In one of the countless billions of galaxies in the universe lies a medium-sized star, and one of its satellites, a green and insignificant planet, is now dead.”

The subsequent films go back to the past (with a somewhat contrived explanation for time travel) to show the fall of human society and the rise of the apes. My favorite of the entire franchise is actually the fourth film in this original set, “Conquest of the Planet of the Apes,” which deals with questions of oppression, violence and liberation. When, if ever, is it justified to kill for one’s freedom?

After the final film, a low-budget affair that still tries to flex some ambition, the franchise went on hiatus until the turn of the century, when Tim Burton directed a remake of the first movie. All you need to know is that it’s not good.

The franchise returned in 2011 with “Rise of the Planet of the Apes.” What’s interesting is that this isn’t a prequel or a sequel or anything like that; it has no connection other than the concept to the original films. “Rise,” along with its sequels “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes” and “War for the Planet of the Apes,” is a reimagining of the story, placing its key ideas in a new context. Whereas the films of the ’60s and ’70s were most concerned with issues of prejudice and nuclear war and environmental degradation, the most recent series was an exploration of war and identity. The apes fight and win a revolution, and then face the task of building a new society. What does it look like? What are its values? Is security worth constant conflict? Is it possible to live and coexist with your former oppressors? Is the world big enough for everyone?

I think these most recent films are truly great, not least because they showcase a powerful — and what should have been an award-winning — physical performance from Andy Serkis, who plays the protagonist of the series, an ape named Caesar. Throughout the three films, Caesar shows such nuance that you forget that you’re watching a man digitally enhanced to appear as an ape, and not an actual ape.

The most recent film in the franchise, “Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes,” was released last week. It loosely continues the story that began with Caesar in that it is set hundreds of years into the future of that world, with ape society dominant and humans almost nonexistent. “Kingdom” is a bit more uneven than the previous films, but it is still a strong entry. It centers on an ape, Noa, who must rescue his tribe after it was enslaved by a burgeoning ape empire led by Proximus, who has bent and perverted Caesar’s teachings in order to justify a campaign of expansion and plunder.

It’s a film that asks first and foremost if progress and civilization are worth the inevitable price in lives and dignity for those on the other side of its advance. (The film, to that point, would make an interesting double feature with Hayao Miyazaki’s “Princess Mononoke.”) Most interesting for our moment is that it is a film that also asks if it is possible for two traumatized peoples to live side by side. Can they ever trust each other? Must their relationship always end in pain, suffering and death?

As you can probably tell, I could go on about these movies. I think that they are some of the best science-fiction films ever to make an appearance at the multiplex. Consider this entire discussion as my vociferous and strong recommendation to check them out.

What I Wrote

My Tuesday column was on the strange tendency of voters to treat Donald Trump like he wasn’t responsible for mismanaging one of the worst crises to afflict the United States since the Great Depression:

No other president has gotten this kind of excused absence for mismanaging a crisis that happened on his watch. We don’t bracket the secession crisis from our assessment of James Buchanan or the Great Depression from our judgment of Herbert Hoover or the hostage crisis in Iran from our assessment of Jimmy Carter. And for good reason: The presidency was designed for crisis. It was structured with the power and autonomy needed for handling the acute challenges of national life.

My Friday column was on the MAGA campaign to lay the groundwork for a second “stop the steal”:

Let’s say Biden recovers lost ground. Let’s say he wins the Electoral College with narrow victories in key swing states, as he did in 2020. Let’s say that a few of those margins are exceptionally slim — a few thousand votes here, a few thousand votes there. We know what will come next. Trump will cry out “illegal voting” and most of the Republican Party will follow suit. They’ll say that Democrats encouraged it with “open borders” and demand that states overturn the results. And Trump, notably, has not ruled out the use of violence to get what he wants.

The latest episode of my podcast with John Ganz was on the 1996 science-fiction conspiracy thriller “Chain Reaction.”

We took the kids to a train festival in Ashland, Va., a few weekends ago to enjoy the spring weather and, well, see trains. It was a good time! This is a picture from the excursion.

Now Eating: Takeout-Style Sesame Noodles

My kids are still young, but they’re old enough to have real preferences about food. What this means for me is that there are certain items that have to be on the menu each week. My son likes tacos, and so we always have a taco night. My daughter, who once said that bread was her favorite color, likes noodles and pasta of all kinds, so I try to make one noodle or pasta dish every week.

This week’s noodle dish was this recipe from NYT Cooking. I served it with a chicken and vegetable stir-fry. It was a big hit, which is always a relief. I have no adjustments to make; the recipe is very simple and barely counts as cooking, which, I suppose, is what makes it great.

Ingredients

• 1 pound noodles, frozen or (preferably) fresh

• 2 tablespoons sesame oil, plus a splash

• 3 ½ tablespoons soy sauce

• 2 tablespoons Chinese rice vinegar

• 2 tablespoons Chinese sesame paste (or tahini if you’re in a pinch)

• 1 tablespoon smooth peanut butter

• 1 tablespoon granulated sugar

• 1 tablespoon finely grated ginger

• 2 teaspoons minced garlic

• 2 teaspoons chile-garlic paste, chile crisp or chile oil, or to taste

• Half a cucumber, peeled, seeded and cut into ⅛-inch by ⅛-inch by 2-inch sticks

• ¼ cup chopped roasted peanuts

Preparation

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add noodles and cook until barely tender, about 5 minutes. They should retain a hint of chewiness. Drain, rinse with cold water, drain again and toss with a splash of sesame oil.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the remaining 2 tablespoons sesame oil, the soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame paste, peanut butter, sugar, ginger, garlic and chili-garlic paste.

Pour the sauce over the noodles and toss. Transfer to a serving bowl, and garnish with cucumber and peanuts.