BEST AND WORST REMAKES: WORST #7 – PLANET OF THE APES
When you think of auteur directors, you think of a particular style, a particular world view and a certain feel that stands out in their films. That’s why when you watch 1941 (even though he isn’t predisposed to broad comedies) it’s unmistakeable that it’s a Spielberg flick. Same with Michael Mann, De Palma, Raimi — and probably a dozen other guys. They’re a brand like any other franchise. It may be a chicken wrap, but you know it’s clearly a chicken wrap from McDonald’s.
And whoever set Tim Burton up to helm Planet of the Apes got shortchanged. Just like the audience.
Now, I wouldn’t know if it was from studio interference or too many producers with too many notes, but Batman (1989) was a big, big movie and still had enough patented Burton’s strangeness before he could let his freak out completely for Batman Returns. Nothing in Planet of the Apes suggests it’s a Tim Burton movie. There’s no skittish outcast, no crazy art direction (even for an alien world), no pudgy weasel. There’s not even a glimmer of Johnny Depp prancing around wearing weird makeup or a crazy fucking hat. I swear to god, they could have saved some money, hired Jan de Bont and still have a similar product outcome. But for god’s sake, who would want to repeat that fate?
The formula for Planet of the Apes is pretty easy: mix a ludicrous but compelling premise with current social commentary, throw in a character who must defend the worst part of his race, and have some actors with state of the art ape make-up riding some ponies. I’m not sure what the hell I was watching in 2001. Something about interspecies sex (or at least hinted at), Charlton Heston condemning guns, and Mark Wahlberg just sort of meandering from scene to scene (similar to, but not as bad as The Happening). Someone really screwed the pooch royally on this thing.
