Planet of the Apes (1968)

 

100 Best Science Fiction Movies, Slant Magazine List

 

#77. Planet of the Apes (1968)

 

I’ll start with the end because even if you haven’t seen the film, you’re likely familiar with the image: a fallen Stature of Liberty, half buried in sand, being lapped by ocean waves. Lost Astronaut George Taylor, horrified, realizes he’s not on an Alien Planet, but a far-future Earth, ruined by mankind. He’s never going home, because he’s already there, but it’s still gone to him forever. (This image was likely inspired by Hubert Rogers's cover for Astounding Science Fiction magazine, February 1941.)

 

It is the remarkable magic in SF films done well, a luxury that the prose is denied. Images command belief, so if the audience is guided by a sure-had, certain illogics can be over-looked, while in prose one must earn everything all the time. Top Screenwriters were employed to realize the original, complex, novel, “The Monkey Planet” (1963) by Pierre Boulle, and their work was impressive, but it was mostly Director Franklin J. Schaffner’s ferocious narrative drive that kept us from asking obvious questions and coming to the conclusion that George was an idiot. How could he not figure this out? The air was breathable, the flora and fauna were familiar, the dominant Species, the Apes, spoke English, if he looked at the moon at night, it would be pretty familiar, plus the surprise ending was extremely heavily foreshadowed during the final reel, so the audience had figured it out before he did. The novel version was set on an Alien Planet (or in a Parallel Universe, the books much different, double-punch, surprise-ending was quite weird) and its Hero, Ulysee Merou, had to laboriously had to learn the native language.

 

Not nearly as action-driven as the film, the novel was still about a place where Apes were Civilized and Humans were mute Animals, unsubtly referencing an episode from Johnathan Swift’s novel “Gulliver’s Travels” (1726) where Horses (called “Houyhnhnms”) were civilized while Humans (“Yahoos”) were brutish farm animals.

 

Legendary Screenwriter Rod Serling was hired to do the difficult adaptation but after a year-and-a-half, his conflicting obligations to his new TV show, “Night Gallery” (1970) required the recruitment of the equally legendary Michael Wilson. He and Carl Foreman had won an Oscar for their earlier adaptation of different Boulle novel, “Bridge Over the River Kwai” (novel 1952, film 1957) except that they were not allowed to collect, they were both on an anti-Communist Blacklist, so Boulle was handed the statue. (By the time this film was made, the Blacklist was dead.) A third, uncredited writer, whose last name might’ve been “Kelly,” contributed some nearer to the end of the process.

 

With so many hands, who provided what is always a question. The Statue of Liberty image is in Serling’s final draft, but at that point, Wilson was already collaborating, so that is open to question. It was most likely Serling’s though, the set-up for the image, a plastic doll of a human girl who said, “Mama,” was in his earlier drafts, and the ending was quite similar to an earlier Serling script, “I Shot an Arrow in the Air” for his TV show “The Twilight Zone” (that episode was aired in 1960). Serling managed to preserve most of the novel’s themes, Balance of Power, Racism, and Evolution, but not in the original’s contemplative mannerisms.

 

Wilson is more credited for two elements:

 

First, the Ape Society being mostly pre-Industrial. The Producers worried that a technologically advanced Ape Society, as it was in both the book and early drafts of the script, would cause costs to sky-rocket, so the Ape City was re-envisioned. Despite this, the massive outdoor sets built at 20th Century Fox's Malibu Ranch as well as the enormous number of costumes needed to populate a seemingly prosperous Society, also ran up a pretty big bill.

 

Wilson’s other important contribution was the Kangaroo Court George eventually has to face before talking Orangutangs, clearly born of his bitter experience before the House Un-American Activities Committee.

 

The dialog was complained about by many, and Serling had long-earned a reputation for preachiness, but apparently most of the longer speeches were penned by Wilson.

 

There were also complaints about “cute” jokes, as in this review from Playboy magazine. "’Human see, human do,’ one chimp mutters, while another quotes a fuzzy philosopher who once said, ‘I never met an ape I didn't like’... such monkeyshines are unworthy of Serling.”

 

But again, not Serling, these lines first appear Wilson’s later drafts. But then, according to Associate Producer Mort Abrahams, they weren’t Wilson’s either, this is where the never-fully identified Wilson comes in, he was hired specifically to add the cute jokes that so many complained about.

 

The project went back to 1963, and by 1965 the strongest advocate for the risky project was Executive Producer Arthur P. Jacobs who had bought it off another Producer. Jacobs needed two things to secure the financing: A lead Actor who was a huge box-office draw and someone who totally reinvent the processes of film Make-Up.

 

The star he recruited to play George was Charleston Heston as Astronaut George Taylor. In researching this film, I see Heston’s influence over the proceedings as almost over-sized even though he wasn’t putting as much on-the-line as Jacobs. At the time Heston was first person one called when casting an Iconic Hero, he had a magnificent physique (this film would feature his first nude scene) and a commanding magnetism, making him a better fit for figures like Moses in “The Ten Commandments” (1956), or the title characters of “Ben-Hur” (1959) and “El Cid” (1961), than others who demonstrated greater range and depth. Always commanding in any of his films, he displayed intelligence in the roles he chose, and by then had worked with close to everyone, so his instincts were trusted, and he knew his way around the block.

 

Heston may have been responsible for bringing Make-Up Artist John Chambers on-board as they had already worked together on “Beauty and the Beast” (story by Gabrielle-Suzanne de Villeneuve (1740), Heston’s role was for an episode of the TV show “Shirley Temple’s Storybook” (1958)) but then, Chamber’s was already famous for the miracles he proved he could do on shoe-string budgets, especially for the TV shows “The Outer Limits” (first aired 1963) and “Star Trek” (first aired 1966). It’s also rumored he participated in the famous Patterson–Gimlin Bigfoot Hoax film (1967), but when asked about it, Chambers insisted he would’ve done a better job.

 

At the time, Hollywood’s Ape costumes hadn’t advanced far beyond “Bela Lugosi Meets the Brooklyn Gorilla” (1952) and there was little faith that the film could deliver better than the laughable. Chambers chose to avoid clunky masks and instead laboriously glued rubber sections onto the actors' skin, these pieces would move in response to specific muscle groups in the face, allowing convincing speech and a large range of expressions. He’d been given a ridiculously short period to develop the concept, but worked late into the night, experimented on himself, and developed the new adhesives, forever changing the trajectory of film Make-Up.

 

Heston was friends with Actor Edward G. Robinson, also hurt by the Blacklist, but in ways opposite to Wilson. Robinson, never a Communist, had “named names” and his testimony against those who had committed no Crimes except “Thought Crimes” ruined the careers of some of his closest friends; as a result, many were unwilling to work with him anymore. Heston recommended Robinson as Dr. Zaius, and Robinson starred in the Make-Up test-reel, the last hurtle Jacobs had to overcome to secure financing. It was a smashing success, the Apes were wholly believable advanced Simians, visually selling the evolutionary themes stronger than the script did.

 

Unfortunately, Robinson was in failing health and realized he couldn’t endure the Make Up process, so he dropped out. He was replaced by Shakespearean Actor Maurice Evans who had worked with Heston on “The War Lord” (1964) so very likely another Heston recommendation.

 

During Production, Make-Up and Costumes alone required as many as 80 people because some days shooting required as many 200 Apes on-hand, this created a serious shortage among skilled Artisans, delaying projects for several studios. But Chambers did stream-line his process from six-hours to three, making it easier on the Actors improving logistics. Post-Make-Up, the Actors were stored in refrigerated trailers to preserve the adhesives between shots, were required to use cigarette-holders to smoke and put on a liquid diet, consumed through straws, and while looking in the mirror.

 

At the time, the Academy Awards had no Oscar for Make-Up, but 1968 saw remarkable achievements in prosthetics not only in this film, but “2001: A Space Odyssey,” so a special Oscar was created and given to Chambers, whose process was more flexible and easily repeatable than Stuart Freeborn’s work on “2001…”

 

Costume Design by Morton Haack supported Chambers remarkable work. Rifles and utensils were believably redesigned for the Ape’s over-sized paws and the Ape City set, from Art Directors William J. Creber and Jack Martin Smith, was among the best you’ll see in any USA SF film of that decade.

 

Heston also recommended the Director Schaffer, who like Evans, had worked him “The War Lord.” Schaffer brought an Epic-Grandeur to the film and managed to move through its plot, not as complex as the novel, but not at all simple either, seemingly effortlessly. The film’s social statements are both clear and un-burdensome, the characterization is strong, a whole new World is explored, there are three longish action scenes, a Court Room Drama, and a Quest Narrative across ever-changing environments, all in less-than 1 ¼ hours.

 

The film’s handling of Racial issues is especially interesting. This could’ve degenerated into something truly stupid, a “On the other shoe” parable where White man George is under the thumb of Dark-skinned Apes, as Black men were often called, a knuckle-dragging play on Ralph Ellison’s “The Invisible Man” (1952), where George is a disruptor, ignored until he starts throwing things around and demanding Equal Rights, but that was wisely left unstated. George is our POV character and object of the plot, a Gulliver who wants to go home, but the real subject, and fascination, is how the Apes treat each other.

 

The Ape society functions well. Though ripe with built-in injustices, it’s not at all Dystopian, unless you’re a Human. They live by a rigorous Race-based (really Species-based) Caste-system wherein Orangutangs rule, Gorillas are the Warriors, and Chimpanzees are the Thinkers who wield the least authority. The film never demonizes any of the Apes, not even George’s cynical Antagonist the Orangutang Dr. Zaius, and in the part, Evans proves equally commanding as Heston’s beef-cake Hero.

 

The balance seems comfortable to most, but any disruption of it terrifies the majority, and in the end two Chimps, Zira, played by Kim Hunter, and Cornelius, played by Roddy McDowell, prove to be greater disruptors than George. Acting above their station, embracing Science and Reason in a Civilization built around policies of Official Ignorance they accidentally expose Zaius’ Catholic-Inquisition-like hypocrisies, and suffer just as Galileo Galilei did in the 17th c. The whole of the Cast ranged from solid to truly excellent in their roles, and though some were quite recognizable to audiences, they weren’t here, not under all that make-up.

 

Few had faith in the project, and even those who did were unprepared for the extra-ordinary success. No sequel was planned, but one was soon demanded, “Beneath the Planet of the Apes” (1970) which Heston wanted nothing to do with and McDowell was unavailable for. Heston was talked into it on the promise that his character would be killed off, sparing him a third film, and that his salary would come in the form of a huge donation to his son’s school. McDowell was replaced by David Watson.

 

“Beneath the Planet …” was a terrible film, and it ended with the whole of Planet Earth destroyed, so that should’ve been that, but no. As it was another smash hit and a third film was demanded. McDowell returned to the series in “Escape from the Planet of the Apes” (1971), it redeemed the series, and though after that the next two films (1972 & 1973) were of diminishing returns both artistically and financially, a major franchise was born. It was likely the first major cinema franchise since the 1950s, when Universal Studios could no longer financially justify further demeaning the Marvelous Monsters they created in the 1930s.

 

After the film’s ran out of steam, there was a live-action TV show (1974) of which the best that can be said was that it wasn’t awful. It was canceled after one season, not because of ratings, but because advertisers were averse to a Prime-Time show that was mainly an audience draw for children. Then there was an animated series for Saturday morning TV (1975), surprisingly ambitiously scripted and featuring beautifully detail concept art by the great cartoonist Doug Wildey (most famous for “Johnny Quest” (1964)) which was incorporated into the animation, but all other aspects of the production were cheap and shabby, and much derided. It was also canceled after one season.

 

Then there was the tie-in marketing, toys, costumes, books, comic books, etc, which were all around me as a child, emulating, but bigger than, what "Star Trek" (TV series 1966) created. The success of tie-ins, at the time, was landmark but still paled in comparison to what “Star Wars” (1976) pulled off very soon after. I'd argue that the gamble that was "Star Wars" would've never been made without this film's unexpected legacy.

 

What held the series together for its first more-than-half-decade was the near-familial, sometimes actually familiar, bonds that developed among the participants.

 

Jacobs Produced the first five films, and likely would’ve continued to be involved in the series’ evolution had he not died in 1973.

 

Chambers did the Make-Up on all five films plus the live-action TV series even though his budget kept shrinking.

 

Actor Heston quit the series with the second film, but returned for the reboot (I’ll get to that).

 

Hunter was in the first three films.

 

McDowell was in four-out-of-five, visible in the one he had to skip, and in the TV series.

 

Evans was in the first two.

 

Former Beauty Queen Linda Harrison was cast as Nova, a mute Human Savage who was given to George in hopes he’d mate with her. She was given the role for two reasons, she was gorgeous and dating Producer Richard Zanuck, then-married and eleven-years her senior. Zanuck is not listed on the credits, but advocated for Jacobs with 20^th c. Fox. Harrison was involved in the project since 1966, but had several film and TV roles before the film was finally released in 1968 but it did not prove an immediate break-through for her career. Zanuck divorced his wife and married Harrison that same year. Zanuck spit with 20^th c Fox in 1972 to found his own, very successful, Production Company responsible for Director Steven Spielberg’s early theatrical features, and with that came another potential brake through role for Harrison, Chief Brody’s wife in “Jaws” (1975). Zanuck promised the role to her but the film was being financed by Universal, so their Executive Sidney Sheinberg out-ranked him, and the role went to his wife Lorraine Gary. Harrison retired from acting to raise Zanuck’s children. In 1977, both Harrison and Zanuck were involved with others, and Harrison’s paramour/guru was the leader of a Charismatic Cult, leading to an acrimonious Divorce, and Zanuck getting full custody of the kids and marrying Lili Fini that same year. Harrison briefly returned to Acting with “Cocoon” and “Cocoon: The Return” (1985 & 1988) which was Produced by Zanuck and the woman he left her for. Then, she had a small part in the reboot.

 

Natalie Trundy appears in four-out-of-five films, but as different characters in each. She was married to Producer Jacobs.

 

One person appeared in all five films, but he wasn’t actually an Actor. Entertainment Columnist James Bacon was friendly with Jacobs, so Jacobs offered him bit parts in exchange for P.R. purposes.

 

After decades in Production Hell, the series was rebooted with a big-budget remake, “Planet of the Apes” (2001) which, though was visually dynamic, fell into a knuckle-dragging juvenile-ism that the first series struggled mightily to avoid. To appeal to fans since childhood, the movie featured a cameo of Harrison, and a more substantial scene with Heston. The film proved success, guaranteeing the continuation of the franchise, but under-preformed the original, adjusted for inflation, the remake would’ve had to pull-in about $300 million domestically to match the originals investment-to-return, the quite impressive $180 million domestic take fell short far short of that achievement.

 

That film was followed by prequel, which was really a second reboot, “Rise of the Planet of the Apes” (2011) which replaced the Prosthetic Make-Up with the most up-to-date Motion-Capture CGI. It proved surprisingly robust and that spawned a still on-going series that is far better than it has any right to be.

 

Trailer:

Planet of the Apes (1968) trailer - YouTube