Keri Russell – Way Too Indie

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes

Bernard Boo — Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

If you, like millions of others, plan on heading into Dawn of the Planet of the Apes this weekend ready to gobble up yet another action-heavy summer mega movie, expect to get way more than you bargained for: Dawn is a sophisticated, emotional picture that explores complex themes with nuance and precision. The film asks that you keep your moral compass handy at all times, as quandaries of trust and loyalty are constantly in play. But don’t let the heavy stuff scare you away; there are enough apes riding horses, talking apes, apes swigging bottles of hard liquor, and apes driving army tanks to satiate even the hungriest Hollywood action junkies.

The Planet of the Apes series is no stranger to social commentary, with previous installments tackling difficult topics like racism and, in Dawn‘s excellent predecessor, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, animal cruelty and genetic experimentation. Here, director Matt Reeves examines the nature of war, (Let Me In) plotting out intimately the inception of a bloody conflict between man and ape.

In an opening sequence that resembles a very expensive version of the popular mobile “outbreak” game Plague Inc., we learn that, ten years after the events of Rise, the human race is dangerously close to eradication due to the spread of “Simian Flu”. In San Francisco lies a small pocket of humanity fighting for survival in a post-plague world where foliage-covered city streets and concrete buildings are being reclaimed by nature. They’re led by Dreyfus (Gary Oldman), a man devoted to human preservation, and the noble, intrepid Malcolm (Jason Clarke). On the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge (which served as a key human/ape battleground in Rise) is Caesar (played again by Andy Serkis via motion capture), who since the last movie has built a thriving community of fellow apes and led them to a harmonious existence, tucked away in the towering redwoods of Marin County. Back from the first film are Maurice, the affable voice of wisdom, and Koba, Caesar’s vengeful, human-hating second-in-command.

Caesar’s fallen in love, had a son, and developed the ability to speak English quite well. His verbal skills are put to good use when a small group of humans, led by Malcolm, accidentally wander into ape territory seeking a dam that could restore power to their struggling community. Separated from the group, a trigger-happy asshole (Kirk Acevedo) shoots a young ape named Ash, and the humans are quickly surrounded by the furious ape clan. Instead of ordering his followers to rip Malcolm and his party to shreds, Caesar instead shows mercy, and in a gravelly roar orders the trespassers to “GO!!!”

In a series of exquisitely plotted events, we see Malcolm and Caesar attempt to cooperate and quell the rising tensions between their respective parties. Fueled by fear, jealousy, paranoia, and obsession, the barrier of peace breaks down, and violence erupts. In hindsight, the chess moves and character trajectories are all crystal clear, but in the moment, nothing is obvious or distractingly predictable. That’s because the film is too smart for that. The decision by Reeves and his writers to put good and bad people on both sides of the conflict is thoughtful and gives the film real emotional richness. In the end, Dawn is about the virtue of empathy, and only by giving both the humans and apes a fair shake does the message pervade.

The Transformers films would be leagues better if only Optimus and the Autobots were the main protagonists instead of the human characters. In this respect, Dawn is a treasure, as Caesar (a CGI creation, mind you) and the apes are given center stage. The beauty of the special effects that bring Caesar to life is that they disappear almost immediately. Once we’re convinced that what we see on screen is a living, breathing, talking ape, Serkis is free to do his real work. His performance is stunning and astonishingly intimate: while the Transformers are all about spectacle and fireworks, the apes are all about mannerisms, emotion, and communication. In a late scene between Caesar and his son, whose ideals clash throughout the film, the two share a poignant, tearful reconciliation, shot in close-up by Reeves. Not for a second are the visual effects unconvincing, nor the scene not entirely gripping.

Both Clarke and Oldman are on-the-money, and Keri Russell is likable as Malcolm’s wife, though unfortunately her role is so thinly drawn and disposable it escapes the mind quickly after leaving the theater. The tidal wave of action in the film’s final act is rightly ridiculous at times (is anything more ridiculous than an ape riding a horse, brandishing machine guns in both hands?) and totally thrilling. (The rest of the film ratchets the stakes up so sky high that it had to be so.) A more lurid depiction of war would have benefited the film greatly (most kills are either off-screen or obscured by distance), but the grand set pieces are far from disappointing.

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is better than its predecessor, and that’s saying a lot. Though it juggles multiple characters struggling with inner conflicts inside of a larger external conflict, the film never feels unstable, confusing, or lopsided. It’s a surprisingly depressing movie, especially for a summer blockbuster, as it reveals the ugliest facets of human nature and the dire consequences they bear. However, the film feels alive, with moments of exhilaration, levity, and surprise that offset the dark, heady themes and lead it to a tonal sweet-spot that few big-budget films have the consideration to aspire to. Hail Caesar!

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes trailer

Austenland

Bernard Boo — Mon, 30 Nov -0001 00:00:00 +0000

Jerusha and Jared Hess are the husband and wife filmmaker duo that brought us the off-kilter comedies Gentlemen Broncos, Nacho Libre, and most famously Napoleon Dynamite. Jerusha tries her hand at solo directing with Austenland, a rom-com that exchanges odd for broad, having big fun while never delving too deeply into, well, anything really. It’s approachable, straightforward humor that’s a delight, especially if you’re the type that’s not too ashamed to laugh at a fart joke now and again (like me.) The characters are poorly written (but well acted), the plot is uninspired and confused, and the film fails to deliver the Austen fan service the title promises. But hell, at least it made me laugh.

Our heroine is Jane (shocker!) Hayes (Keri Russell, automatically likable), a nine-to-five New Yorker who’s been a Jane Austen addict her whole life. Mr. Darcy, Austen’s dashing, debonair creation from Pride and Prejudice, represents the perfect man to Jane, and she won’t settle for a lesser man. It’s a deep obsession—she’s even got a cardboard cutout of Colin Firth (who played Darcy in the BBC production) in her bedroom, which is covered wall-to-wall with pastel Austen memorabilia, antique picture frames, teacups, and frilly dolls. It’s like an Austen-themed of Hoarders. Plus, as evidence that she literally wants to meet the fictional Darcy and make love to him, spelled in big letters above her bed are the words “Darcy was here.” Kinda creepy, but Russell reels you back in with her unassuming charm.

Pressured by a concerned friend, Jane attempts to exercise her Austen obsession by blowing her life savings on a trip to England, where she’ll be a guest in Austenland, a sort of experimental role-playing amusement park. In the park—run by the rigid, passively cruel Jane Seymour (painfully underutilized)—the paid actors and guests immerse themselves completely in everything Austen, from sipping tea, to squeezing into corsets, to acting out faux romances straight out of Austen’s novels.

The only other guest aside from Jane is the unfathomably vapid and pea-brained Elizabeth, played by none other than the born-to-be-funny Jennifer Coolidge. Jane attempts to connect with Elizabeth through their shared fanaticism, proudly sharing that she memorized the first three chapters of Pride and Prejudice when she was thirteen. Coolidge replies with a ditzy giggle and a hilariously ignorant “What’s that?” As always, she plays a great bimbo, committing to the character’s stupidity wholeheartedly, trying on a pitifully inaccurate English accent, vomiting asinine observations, and generally providing giant laughs at will. The film is lucky to have her.

When the ladies arrive at the park, Elizabeth gets full-on 1800’s pamper treatment, while Jane, who inadvertently signed up for the least-expensive Austenland Copper Package, is relegated to being garbed in drab, unflattering brown dresses and bunking in what looks to be a servants room, or “creepy tower”, as Elizabeth so eloquently puts it.

Elizabeth gets romantically paired with the flamboyant Colonel Andrews (James Callis, Battlestar Galactica) who fights to keep his frightful disgust for Elizabeth’s mammoth bosom suppressed. Jane’s affections are split between smooth-talking stable boy Martin (Flight of the Chonchords‘ Bret McKenzie) and the Darcy stand-in Henry Nobly (JJ Field), who’s barely participating and seems utterly bored with the whole masquerade. It’s a dull, saccharine, low-stakes love triangle that ends up just the way you expect it to. Georgia King (The New Normal) plays a flagrantly, cartoonishly English maiden and provides some of the film’s biggest laughs with her theatrical prancing and preening.

What kept needling at me throughout Austenland was how bizarrely uninterested in her surroundings Jane seems. She’s supposedly an Austen super-fan—Austenland should be the manifestation of all her wildest dreams. And yet, she chats with her friend on her snuck-in cell phone, doesn’t even attempt an English accent, listens to tunes on a stereo with Martin, and grows tired of the place within a day. Russell does her best with the sloppy material, and her charisma is strong enough to carry us through to the end. The film’s humor is what keeps the ship afloat, and while it’s admittedly sophomoric (never cleverer than a typical modern SNL skit), it’s delivered skillfully by an experienced cast and hit the sweet spot for me. This is big comedy, not cringe comedy, which is refreshing nowadays.

I feel sorry for all the true Austen fans going into Austenland expecting a celebration of the late, great writer’s work—Pride and Prejudice is the only novel ever referenced, and any Austen influence is merely surface-level. The brilliant premise would have led a more capable filmmaker to make something better, but the inexperienced Hess must have gotten tripped-up along the way, producing a movie much less interesting than it should have been. Still, Hess’ bread and butter shines through; the silly, elastic facial expressions, the shameless pratfalls, witty exchanges, and Coolidge’s golden one-liners kept me laughing all the way through and saved the experience from being a regrettable one.

Keri Russell – Way Too Indie

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes trailer

Austenland

Austenland trailer: