Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (2024)

Score: 4.5 / 5

When one of the most interesting and bizarre franchises in American cinema -- that started in 1968 -- was revived in 2011, no one really knew what to expect. Rupert Wyatt's reimagined prequel of sorts (conceived by Amanda Silver and Rick Jaffa) honored the ideas and names of the original films while dramatically rewiring the material to fit a contemporary setting. Even now, over a decade later, the film's somewhat wide-eyed optimism for medical breakthroughs and environmentalist warm fuzzies feel comparatively naive and simple. But Rise of the Planet of the Apes, despite some lackluster postmortem, did a hell of a lot right, and a rewatch of that film is never a bad idea. While its story is simple and its messages straightforward, it by no means grapples with simple questions or themes, grounding itself -- helped by mind-boggling CGI -- in real drama, eschewing the corny aspect that plagued the original films and even Tim Burton's remake.

Andy Serkis as Caesar, protagonist of the first three films in this reboot series, was sadly overlooked by the Academy, but his presence has thus far defined the series. Matt Reeves and his visionary approach to Dawn and War rounded out the (at the time) trilogy with apocalyptic, operatic scope. Unlike the intentionally weird, alien world of the original film that is eventually revealed to be Earth itself, this series takes great pains to make everything a little too realistic, to dramatize a more or less feasible way apes could indeed take over the planet after viral outbreak that empowers them and kills us. How much more impactful in our post-Covid world! It was only a matter of time before this new series was to be continued.

Finding itself the owners of the material now, Disney tapped Wes Ball to helm the first of what is likely to be a second trilogy in the Apes cosmology, with increasingly ridiculous titles. Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, however, is a fabulously entertaining and thoroughly stimulating entry that honors what came before even as it thrills us with expectations for what is to come. Penned by "epic" science fiction writer Josh Friedman, it concerns a story far removed from Caesar, many generations later when Caesar is remembered more as a legend than as a living leader. The world is much more like the '60s film than the one we last saw in War: what is left of humanity has devolved into pockets of primitive, feral creatures. Apes seem to have spread abundantly, living apart in small communities that can all speak and develop idiosyncrasies and new traditions, such as hunting with eagles and riding horses. These new enclaves share a love of Caesar, but their ideas about him are often at odds, much as how humans in the real world behave when it comes to politicians or prophets.

I won't discuss the plot here, except to say that Friedman doesn't include any extraneous details or stoop to any kind of fan service. He offers just enough exposition to explain how and why we're at this point in time (initially, the time jump threw me, but he justifies it and then some) and not so much as to overwhelm us. The plot is mostly predictable and occasionally convenient, but not enough to distract from the drama of its proceedings. Tastefully understanding the project at hand, Ball shapes our adventure -- along with that of the main cast, almost all of whom are indeed apes -- with thoughtful artistry and compelling purpose, demonstrating a mastery of tone and pacing that allows us intellectual and kinetic thrills even as it lassoes our heartstrings for emotional dividends. Even if this movie were standalone, it would be deeply satisfying, and that's a profoundly brave thing for this franchise to do. And, more importantly, for this studio to do. 

Beautiful cinematography, truly eye-popping digital effects, and inspired visuals make this entry a feast for the eyes and then some. The performances are all solid, especially the motion capture performances of Kevin Durand as the terrifying Proximus Caesar and Peter Macon as the delightful Raka (who, based on a single line of dialogue and a certain camp air, I'm guessing is a gay ape). The story starts innocuously enough, but stakes are raised early on and from there, it's a breakneck race to the finish line; these action sequences are smart and tense in ways I haven't seen from a major studio in some time. And by its riotous climax, this film knows not to overstay its welcome, wrapping up while planting thematic seeds we can already see have begun to sprout. I was particularly pleased with its continuation of pacifist and anti-gun messages championed in the previous trilogy, and its placement here invites more questions about how current generations can and should learn from the past in more practical ways, while threatening us with the reality that we might not be learning, and what that implies about us in the real world. That's great science fiction, right there.