«Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes» - Movie Review by Kinoafisha
"Caesar is dead! Long live Caesar!" or problems in the Ape Kingdom.
It's been seven years since the successful conclusion of the trilogy, which began with Rupert Wyatt's "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" and ended with Matt Reeves' "War for the Planet of the Apes"! During this time, Reeves managed to film "The Batman" the world went through a global pandemic, and Fox, which produced every single part of the 50-year-old franchise, was devoured by the all-consuming Disney — the new dominant species of Hollywood. From the very first film in 1968, "Planet of the Apes" reflected the present with all its excesses — chauvinism, a sense of cultural superiority, racism, and unchecked trust in technology (though the hastily written sequels of the '70s did so clumsily). The previous trilogy, which successfully rebooted the franchise, added atypical restraint and thoughtfulness to this rich ideological legacy, something rare for science fiction. The ending of "War" even rose to the level of high tragedy, turning the ape leader Caesar (Andy Serkis) into a figure of biblical proportions.
Wes Ball, the director known for the "The Maze Runner" trilogy, had to deal with this strong legacy. Fox — then still independent, as much as possible in the corporate era — gave him complete creative freedom. Fortunately, Ball, working alongside another sci-fi master, screenwriter Josh Friedman ("Avatar: The Way of Water"), decided not to make a direct continuation of the previous trilogy but to tell a story with new characters (Hooray! No mindless fan service!).
The action takes place a little way down the road — several generations after the end of "War". Although the film begins with a scene of Caesar's burial. Thus, Ball literally bids farewell to the previous trilogy before opening a new one. Apes now dominate the planet. Humans, roaming the forests and reduced to speechless creatures with low IQ due to the virus, have returned to the Stone Age, dreaming of a Neolithic revolution. Similarly, the apes are mostly engaged in foraging and fishing (Ball's idea is that they are experiencing a Bronze Age — not in terms of metalworking skills but in the formation of myths and the emergence of the first proto-states).
One of these proto-states is ruled by Proximus (Kevin Durand) — a classic megalomaniac who self-proclaimed himself Caesar's heir and significantly distorted his ideological legacy. Caesar's idea that apes are stronger together is interpreted by Proximus to mean they must unite. Even against their will. And, of course, under his rule. The victim of his vision is the clan of ape bird-catchers — classic "noble savages" to which the young chimpanzee Noah (Owen Teague) belongs. Proximus' henchmen traditionally burn the village, kill the father, and enslave his mother and friends. Miraculously surviving, Noah sets off in pursuit and echoes the initial chapters of Joseph Campbell's "The Hero with a Thousand Faces" — hears the call to adventure, answers it, meets the wise mentor Rakku (thoughtful, like all gibbons in the franchise), reconciles with his father, etc. Another companion is the cunning Mae, played by Freya Allan (Princess Ciri from "The Witcher"). It turns out that the human child is not as mad as it seems, and moreover — Mae knows where the ape kingdom is located.
The theme of legacy turns out to be important not only in the context of the franchise's development but also serves as the film's central theme. Proximus uses the few remaining sane humans like Travatan (William H. Macy) to recreate old technologies, expand the kingdom, and finally resolve the "human question". He dreams of breaking into a military base protected by giant steel doors to acquire new weapons. Noah not only matures but also tries to understand the customs of his tribe, possibly outdated, and Caesar's lost legacy. Mae, on the other hand, knows too well the history of her species' downfall and clings to it, dreaming of restoring its glory. The dubiousness of this endeavor, it seems, she has yet to understand.
Ball himself treats the franchise's legacy with reverence — in the soft visuals reminiscent of '70s Eastmancolor (Ball used old lenses), in the human hunting scene referencing the 1968 film, in the music and sounds echoing past films. "Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes" retains the thoughtful tone of the previous trilogy and its slow, wonderfully calculated camera work. "Planet of the Apes" remains the most "realistic" almost everyday sci-fi. The frame space, despite the abundance of CGI, feels not like a digital convention but like an everyday, rough reality.
Similarly, the characters — humans and apes — do not tolerate superlatives. They are credibly moderate. Perhaps even too much. The newly exploring Noah is no match for the charismatic Caesar. The young primate pales even in comparison to Mae, who remains regally silent for most of the film. In "Kingdom" there seems to be nothing exceptional, nothing stunning, but nevertheless, when the occasional palm sweat proves that the story works, it only raises questions — about the origin of the state and ideology, the nature of laws, the possibility of coexistence of two species, and how to accept a legacy without becoming its slave.
Ball's solid film about the world after the ape-pocalypse ends with a troubling cliffhanger, promising us another fascinating story and several answers to these questions.
