Everyone Needs a Damn, Dirty Hand to Hold On To: Rise of the Planet of the Apes

As the man behind the movements of Gollum and King Kong, Andy Serkis is undoubtedly the most famous motion-capture actor in Hollywood. Of course, that’s a lot like being the most famous stuntman; if Serkis and digital animators do their jobs, it should seem to the audience as if he was never there. Over the years, Serkis has appeared sans digital “costume” in numerous films, including King Kong (where in addition to the gorilla he was also Lumpy the cook) and The Prestige, but, like Anthony Daniels before him, playing high profile characters hasn’t led to a high profile. Many are the moviegoers who could imitate Gollum but not recognize the man behind the shriveled figure if he sat beside them at the local multiplex. Not that Serkis seems to mind. Asked in a recent episode of NPR’s Fresh Air whether his agent ever pressures him to take more live-action roles, Serkis said he didn’t draw a distinction between the two styles of acting. “They’re just characters to me,” he said. “The only caveat is: Is it a good story, is it a good character?”

In Rise of the Planet of the Apes, the answers to those questions are “Yes” and “Yes,” but only as they apply to Serkis’ Caesar. A chimpanzee whose intelligence has been chemically enhanced, Caesar is the most perspicacious character on screen, whether he’s in the play area at the rescue center where he orchestrates a primate revolt or somewhere else in San Francisco, where he is unceasingly surrounded by mouth-breathing humans. Screenwriters Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver have created a story that allows a mostly nonspeaking ape to evoke his cunning and emotions through the careful CGI-enhanced mannerisms of Serkis and the thoughtful direction of Rupert Wyatt, but they have left the humans around Caesar so void of nuance that it often feels as if they are being played by actors weighed down by inflexible rubber suits. That’s the good and the bad of it. For all the summer movies that spend an inordinate amount of screen time on CGI spectaculars that are stapled to the film’s edges like flowers on a parade float (the Pirates of the Caribbean sequels have been particular offenders in this regard), Rise of the Planet of the Apes is a partial antidote. It is never more emotionally or intellectually relevant than when it’s digitally driven.

The Conversations: Jaws

Just in time (sort of) for the end of the summer blockbuster season, The Conversations series continues with a look at Jaws. Steven Spielberg's wide-release 1975 smash is widely considered to be the first summer blockbuster, but how much does it have in common with the modern blockbuster? That's just one of the topics covered in this latest installment, which also includes appreciation for Spielberg's direction, John Williams' score and the performances of Roy Scheider, Richard Dreyfuss, Robert Shaw and even "Bruce" the mechanical great white shark. It was a fun movie to revisit and to discuss, so head on over to The House Next Door and join the conversation.

Remember Hogwarts: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2

It’s of little surprise that as the Harry Potter franchise has evolved over a decade and eight films it has become almost customary, when discussing the series at any length, for reviewers to reflect on the effect of watching the series’ three principal stars growing up before our eyes. Indeed, actors Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson and Rupert Grint haven’t simply added 10 years, they’ve gone from not-quite (or in Grint’s case just-barely) teens to legitimate young adults, and their characters, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, have mostly matured in kind, along with the series’ themes. (Not to mention that when those of us unfamiliar with J.K. Rowling’s novels found ourselves befuddled by bludgers and beaters, the slow transformation of the series’ heroes from wide-eyed sprites into rugged adventurers became safe ground – something we all understood.) One might think then, with all this talk of growing up, that it wouldn’t be a shock to arrive at the final film of the series and realize how much Hogwarts has aged, but as Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 opens the de-evolution of the school of magic packs a wallop. In the opening shots, new headmaster Severus Snape (Alan Rickman) watches from above as students march through the courtyard with military uniformity and purpose – a Nazi-esque image that was impossible to imagine amidst the Disney-esque enchantment of the first film. The once fanciful castle of possibility is now a dim, grim prison of hopelessness. And before long, it becomes a fortress for war.

If you’re searching for clues as to why the wand-blasting action of this final installment is more powerful and exhilarating than in any of the previous films combined, look no further. One of the series’ weaknesses has always been the ambiguity of all the spell-casting. The limits of these sorcerers, whether young or old, good or evil, has never been made clear, and all too often it’s seemed as if the only way to win a wand duel is to catch one’s opponent napping, given that each bolt of hocus pocus has the curious habit of perfectly neutralizing another. All these movies later, I still don’t understand how much credit goes to the wizard or the wand, and it’s always puzzled me that Harry, the chosen one, seems in constant need of protection from a fight. (I always pictured Harry as closer to Superman than Frodo Baggins, but maybe I’ve had that wrong.) Having said that, one thing all of us can understand without a PhD in Rowling is what it means to fall back on one’s last line of defense. As noted by Hokahey, in this grand finale Hogwarts becomes the Alamo – a fitting comparison not only because Voldemort and his almost limitless henchmen descend upon the castle like Santa Anna and his army, but also because Hogwarts was in its own way, like the Alamo, a place of worship before it became a stronghold. Many of us may not grasp whether Voldemort is growing stronger or weaker, whether Harry & Co are on the verge of victory or defeat, or what it actually means to destroy a horcrux. But it’s universally understood that if Voldemort seizes control of Hogwarts, he wins not just the battle but the entire war.