After four ambitious and successful pictures, the reboot-prequel Planet of the Apes franchise now comes to what could well be the end, approaching the moment at which Charlton Heston and his crew crash landed, in 3978, in the original movie. It’s where, in 1968, we came in. Of course, if this one is a big hit, yet another prequel-episode could theoretically be squeezed in. But I hope not.
It’s not that this movie is running low on energy or panache – it isn’t – but the story is tangled and contrived and weirdly anticlimactic because that original film is starting to loom over everything like the Statue of Liberty’s shadow. All that happens has to match up with what we know is coming. There have to be “good” apes we can root for, but also “bad” apes to make sense of the original’s imminent ape tyranny. There have to be “good” humans for the “good” apes to have a relatable relationship with – but they have to exhibit “bad” or anti-ape tendencies to align with this fundamental ape/human antipathy. And there has to be a lot of stuff about observatories and radio telescopes that are still, miraculously, functional.
