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Salient. Victoria University of Wellington Students' Newspaper. Volume 31, Number 11 June 5, 1968

Films

page 8

Films

Planet of the Apes

Heston vs. Simians

20th Century Fox and MGM have started their new '68 releases in Wellington with a science-fiction film, Planet of The Apes.

Soon to follow will be a new film from Larry (One Potato, Two Potato) Peerce, called The Incident, Jack Clayton's new film Our Mothers' House, with Dirk Bogarde and Stanley Kubrick's four-year-in-the-making 2001: A Space Odyssey.

But for the undertones of black humour, Planet of The Apes, nearly succeeds in being pure science fiction. I am not sure whether it is Rod Serling and Michael Wilson's script, or the adaptation from Pierre Boulle's novel, which I have not read.

Charlton Heston is the leader of a ship on some space mission and finds, after crash landing with two of his crew, that they have been projected 2000 years into the future.

They eventually meet up with some dark humans (to be nice) and are attacked, bopped, killed, and cinematically reduced to scavenging animals by ape-faced people who capture simians—both men and wimians.

Their voices are removed and Charlton, seemingly the only survivor, meets up with a long-lost-tribe-lovely, who he names Nova (for some celestial reason).

Two devoted ape doctors (a pity seeing an anthropoidal Roddy McDowall and Kim Hunter) sense the intelligence of Charlton's furtive communications—dart throwing, dust messages—and ward off the nasty intentions of the leader of the land (planet, country?) named Doctor Zaius, beautifully voiced by Maurice Evans.

After much blood, teeth, and animalistic tracking shots, Mr. Heston tries to vocalise in a semi-trial — a conclusion about who came from who, from where, and who's belief in who would justify who's lies, etc. etc.

There is a nicely blatant shot of the three judges (one of them "defender of the faith,") miming the speak-no-evil, see-no-evil etc.

But Charlton is on the way to the gelding stakes, literally.

Kim and Roddy (the "animal psychologists", as they are called) help his escape with Nova into horizons and vistas that would make John Ford squirm in ecstasy.

They reach, by a beautiful sea, a big cave from whence this race of apes have evolved from, see? It's like waiting for the apple to fly back on the tree again.

Some of "our" bones are found, a pair of glasses, a plastic heart valve (a cash in there) and, most moving, a Baby Jane doll that has a human cry, convincing one and all of the superior race blah blah.

The ending (not so far away) is really the most outrageous, laughable joke in years, which I won't divulge. There had been some nasty asides to it all the way.

Pin-up of starlet Linda Harrison, "Jane" to Charlton Heston's "Tarzan" in the 20th Century-Fox film "Planet of the Apes". Linda poses off-screen — on film she wears a post-historic bikini.

Pin-up of starlet Linda Harrison, "Jane" to Charlton Heston's "Tarzan" in the 20th Century-Fox film "Planet of the Apes". Linda poses off-screen — on film she wears a post-historic bikini.

Some classic lines: Heston, half naked (easy see, Edith Head didn't do these leather rags) crouches in his cell with Nova and whispers, giggling: "You Jane, me Tarzan"; when the female ape doctor is asked by Heston to kiss him good-bye, she reluctantly replies: "Alright. But you're so damn ugly;" This nearly brought the house (and my temperature) down.

It is one of the most adventurously stimulating films in years, full of the most superb vigour and technique.

Jerry Goldsmiths music outdoes his Brittenish score for Seconds with Vareseian noises of absolute barbarity.

Director Franklin J. Schaffner (The War Lord, The Double Man) uses Leon Shamroy, a veteran Hollywood cameraman, and I defy anyone not to be completely agog at some of his shading and scenery.

God knows where it was filmed (He should) and it looks as though it's closer to Home, than we'll ever get.

La Traviata is an all-Italian affair in scurvied Eastman colour. The dubbing of Verdi's immortal music (till now) reminds one of hippo's catching peanuts. Anna Moffo (Violetta) hardly batters, moves or pouts her lips during her sub-Scriabanal shrieking, and a tabernacle choir emerging from a band of the fey aristocracy, makes this the most laughable version of opera-noir since the brilliant finale of the Marx Bros' Night at the Opera.

Ray Henwood (left) and Ken Blackburn (right) in a scene from Edward Albee's Pulitzer Prize-winning play "A Delicate Balance". Albee, well-known for his sensational "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?", is one of Americas leading dramatists. George Webby's production for Downstage begins a season tonight.

Ray Henwood (left) and Ken Blackburn (right) in a scene from Edward Albee's Pulitzer Prize-winning play "A Delicate Balance". Albee, well-known for his sensational "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?", is one of Americas leading dramatists. George Webby's production for Downstage begins a season tonight.

—Warwick Teague photo.