Simian sensation!

After several weeks of sitting through mediocre and sometimes downright diabolical movies for your reading pleasure, I excitedly attended an early screening of Dawn of the Planet of the Apes with high hopes for one of this summer’s biggest blockbusters. Thankfully, I wasn’t disappointed.

 Dawn (as henceforth this film shall be referred to) is the sequel to series reboot Rise of the Planet of the Apes, one of my favourite films of 2011 and one which thankfully buried the scars of the horrendous 2001 Tim Burton effort.

Unlike some sequels which spend the first five minutes regurgitating the plot of the previous film with clunky exposition, Dawn assumes and practically relies on the audience knowing what happened in the first movie. So if you haven’t seen Rise yet (you should have!) then do so before catching this film and reading the rest of this review.

 Dawn picks up 10 years after the events of the first film. The ALZ-113 virus (now referred to as Simian Flu) has wiped out most of humanity, with only a few genetically-immune human colonies remaining. One such colony, led by the determined yet distrustful Dreyfus (Oldman), lives in the remnants of San Francisco where the original outbreak took place.

 The humans are surviving peacefully, but they face a significant problem. They are running desperately short on fuel and will cease to have any power within a few weeks. The solution is a nearby hydroelectric dam, which, when activated, will provide sustainable and long-term power for the colony.

 There’s one small issue though…the dam is located in the Muir Woods across the Golden Gate Bridge, which marks the border of the ape community’s territory.

The apes, led by the now-adult Caesar (Serkis), are extremely resentful of humans for all their years in captivity and treat all invaders with severe prejudice and aggression.

 Nevertheless, a small group led by Malcolm (Clarke) sets off to reason with the apes.

At first, Caesar seems receptive to keeping the peace, but a combination of unfortunate misunderstandings and the machinations of Koba, a warmongering bonobo who bears the scars of years of human experimentation and torture, leads to chaos and an all-out war between the two factions.

 What’s immediately obvious with this film is that the focus has clearly shifted to the apes rather than the humans. Unlike the first movie which concentrated on man’s hubris and their eventual downfall, the sequel shifts attention to the ape colony and how they are trying to adapt to being the planet’s dominant species.

 Of course, without a strong lead, you would expect the film to fall apart at the seams if placed in the hands of a normal actor hidden behind a costume.

It’s a good job, then, that the world’s most renowned motion-capture performer, Andy Serkis (of Gollum and King Kong fame), anchors the film and brings Caesar to life so vividly. There’s not a costume in sight; all apes are motion captured by human actors and then rendered in wonderful special effects.

It’s testament to the achievement of modern film technology that you can so easily suspend your disbelief and believe that these apes, with such intricate and evocative facial expressions and the ability to talk, aren’t real. Compared to the original films of the late Sixties, the difference is astounding.

The dynamic between the apes and humans is the film’s most intriguing theme. Caesar and Malcolm share much in common; both are trying to protect their families and the people they represent. Their uneasy truce comes from a shared understanding of maintaining a community and building a future.

However, there are characters on both sides that would rather annihilate the other race and believe too much hate has been sown to truly find peace. This segues perfectly into the film’s central conflict, and you never feel like war between the two is forced for the sake of a plot point and an extravagant battle scene.

The cinematography is some of the best work put on film in recent years, with the vast forest fashioned with wood huts and waterfalls to create an ape city. Similarly, the post-apocalyptic San Francisco uses crumbling buildings, overgrown foliage and spluttering neon to emphasise how far humanity has fallen from grace since its expansionist days.

The score punctuates events perfectly, with grandiose percussion accompanying battle scenes and rousing speeches, while soft woodwind takes centre stage during quieter moments where the camera and visuals are doing the work.

If there are to be a few criticisms of the film, it’s that the overall plot is slightly too predictable. The one major twist is signposted very early on, and the event is greeted by a sigh of inevitability (not that it isn’t well-constructed, though) rather than shock. The movie could have done with a few more surprises, with the inevitable spanner-in-the-works every time peace seems assured becoming a bit too cliché after the fifth time.

Oldman’s character also seems to have achieved central billing in the credits due to his (undoubted) acting prestige rather than screen time, as he disappears for vast chunks of the film only to resurface and speak a few lines when the plot requires.

In summary, Dawn is one of those movies which reminds me why I love films in the first place, and in particular sci-fi. Intelligent, relevant and emotionally evocative, I highly doubt there will be a better way to spend an evening at the cinema this summer.

* Showing in Cineco, Seef II, Saar Cineplex