Disney Drops the Finest Science Fiction Film Series of All Time on Hulu
Fox’s Entire Ape Canon Finally Gets a Home.
In 1963 producer Arthur P. Jacobs bought the rights to an odd little science fiction novel by Pierre Boulle, author of the classic Bridge on the River Kwai (1952), and asked television’s greatest writer, Rod Serling, to adapt it into a feature film. The story of how La Planète des Singes (1963) became the revolutionary feature film Planet of the Apes (1968) is a complicated one involving multiple directors, questions of screenplay authorship, and the revitalization of one of cinema’s greatest studios that warrants an entire book of its own. The result, however, was a phenomenon.
Nine films later — with a tenth, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, opening this Friday — two television series, multiple novels, comics, toys, parodies; this series has resonated with film audiences like few others.
Disney previously had not been consistent about housing the Apes films, as a whole canon, on a single streaming platform, but they have now placed the entire collection of Apes-related cinema in one place: Hulu. Whether you have Hulu on its own or Hulu on Disney+, you can now watch every theatrically released movie featuring our favorite cinematic simians.
Unlike most other science fiction properties, the Planet of the Apes films do not form one single coherent timeline. The five films of the ’60s and ’70s are linked, Tim Burton’s confused 2001 remake stands alone, and the current series — begun with 2011’s excellent Rise of the Planet of the Apes — is also self-contained. While now is a fine time, just before the next film in the series arrives, to catch up on the modern Apes films; for a real treat, let’s reach back to 1968 and re-experience the most consistently great science fiction film series ever produced.
Planet of the Apes (1968) — One of the most nihilistic films ever made, everything about this production works. Franklin Schaffner’s direction is startling and aggressive as is Jerry Goldsmith’s score. Charlton Heston re-invents himself for a new generation, Roddy McDowell gives a performance under pounds of facial prosthetics that turn him into a star, and Academy Award Winner Kim Hunter treats the film with the same weight as she did A Streetcar Named Desire.
And, of course, Serling’s famous “Statue of Liberty” plot twist is so deeply embedded in our pop culture that even people who haven’t seen the film are familiar with it.
This is a film that swings for the fences. Its story of a ship of spacemen landing on a planet where the roles of humans and apes have been reversed ruminates on the worth of man as a species, challenging our right to assert our own importance as it, step by step, dehumanizes Charlton Heston’s character, Taylor. The movie is sharp, literate, funny, frightening and has a desert-like haze of unreality running through it.
In 2001, the Library of Congress selected Planet of the Apes for historical preservation as a film that is “culturally, historically or aesthetically significant.”
Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970) — Planet of the Apes was such a success that it, arguably, saved 20th Century Fox who had been in deep financial trouble prior. A sequel was the obvious move.
Again Rod Serling was called — even though he had left the previous film several years before production and his script had been punched up by multiple subsequent authors — but his pitch was rejected. Pierre Boulle, author of the original novel, threw his hat into the ring with Planet of the Men which was also tossed.
The film carried on through a multitude of hurdles: the refusal of Charlton Heston to return for more than a few short scenes; the loss of Serling and his punch-up writer Michael Wilson; the unavailability of Roddy McDowell who the public saw as the face of the franchise; the replacement of director Franklin J. Schaffner with Ted Post, primarily a television director; and, most surprisingly, 20th Century Fox’s massive cut to the film’s budget (quite evident when you see large groups of apes with unworking prosthetics).
And yet, in spite of all of these hurdles, the film still packs a wallop.
Seemingly a virtual remake of the first film, but with James Franciscus rather than Charlton Heston, this is actually doing something much more subtle. Where in the first film the orangutan priest/government class is keeping a firm hand wrapped around the actions of the military and scientific branches of ape society; by the time of this film, the military has begun to get loose. They’ve become a powder keg about to blow and they are about to run into a bigger powder keg because the second half of the film takes a surprising left turn.
As if to say to the first film, “Nihilism? You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet!” we discover what’s left of the articulate human race living underground. The film becomes a chilling commentary on atomic weapons and the terrifying problems that arise when religion, science, and militarism clash.
A quick note for Disney parks fans, the haunting narration that closes the film is the voice of The Haunted Mansion’s “Ghost Host”, Paul Frees.
Escape from the Planet of the Apes (1971) — What do you do when you find yourself with a successful film franchise renowned for its severity and nihilism? You make a genteel comedy of manners, of course!
Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter are back for round three of “Fox tries to throw away what’s successful about the series and makes a successful film anyway!”
Inexplicably (Well, truth be told, they TRY to explain it.) Cornelius (McDowell), Zira (Hunter), and Dr. Milo (Sal “Rebel Without a Cause” Mineo) travel back in time to the 1970s — presumably as a cost-cutting measure for Fox who continues to try and financially choke the life out of their most successful franchise.
Putting the inquisitive chimpanzees through the trappings and luxury of ’70s modern-day America has a charm to it and McDowell and Hunter seem to be having a wonderful time chewing the scenery until the film takes a dark turn. It is with some sense of whiplash that the film becomes violent. Frightened by the future that they’re beginning to glean from speaking with the chimpanzee scientists, the humans do what humans do: attempt to alter their future with violence. By the end of the film, it has become a heartbreaking musing on compassion in the face of fear with, none-too-subtle references to the Christian New Testament.
Ricardo Montalban gives, as he always does, a full-throated yet sensitive performance as Senor Armando, the circus owner.
Conquest of the Planet of the Apes (1972) — Paul Dehn, who wrote or co-wrote every film in this franchise save the first one, had reinvented the series — tone, theme, structure — on each film. This remains the most startling re-invention and one of the best films in the franchise. If there is an angrier science fiction film, I don’t know what it is.
Conquest takes on discrimination and the legacy of slavery in America with displays of shocking violence and cruelty. It is, however, no mere reveling in gore; it has a point.
Several years have passed since the previous film and Cornelius and Zera’s child, Caesar, has grown up in the care of Armando (Ricardo Montalban). In the meantime, a disease has spread that decimated the dog and cat population, and humans, wanting the companionship of pets, have domesticated different species of apes. Quickly realizing that the simians’ depth of intelligence and physical dexterity was useful in other ways, society began to turn them into slaves.
Roddy McDowell gives the best performance of his career as Caesar within whom the rage gradually rises until it can no longer be contained.
The politics of the film are, in some ways, naive to our 21st Century sensibilities — it would be a regrettable decision to make a film about the oppression of black people starring a white British man dressed as a chimpanzee today — but the power of this film is undeniable. The final confrontation between Caesar and Hari Rhodes’ MacDonald is one of the most riveting pieces of drama from that decade.
Battle for the Planet of the Apes (1973) — The final film of the original Planet of the Apes series is also the weakest. It still holds some fascination, however, as the series is, by this time, so cemented in popular culture that significant stars of the time are strapping on prosthetic ape jaws just to be a part of it. For this film John Huston, Paul Williams, and Claude Akins are hamming it up in Ape City. Even a young John Landis has a small role.
Much like 2014’s Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, this film deals with the fragile state of peace between ape and human society, both of which are trying to find their footing in this new world.
The film tries to serve as a final link to the time loop chain that started with the original 1968 film. It is a little unfocused, but it does try to express something interesting about how we — and the Apes have now become our stand-ins unlike any of the films prior where they were our accusers — form morality and moral codes; and how fear and paranoia can subvert the most well-intentioned of those codes.
No science fiction film series has ever been both as ambitious and as successful as the Apes movies from the ’60s and ’70s. Each movie was a radical shift from the previous one, jumping from style to style and from theme to theme. For a modern equivalent, think of it as if every Star Wars movie went as far afield as The Last Jedi and stuck the landing, every time. This is filmmaking without boundaries; filmmaking that not only didn’t fear risk but thrived on it. Watching these movies again is a revelation. And if you’re watching them for the first time, I envy the ride you’re about to have.
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Kelly McCubbin is a columnist for Boardwalk Times