Straw Dogs and Apes, A Review

My love for trashy movies requires a couple of things: First, the movie must not terrify me with its concept or its action, two, it must have enough entertainment and coherence that it is not damaging. (As the Jesuits used to ask: If good art is good for you, can bad art be bad for you?) And, three, it must have some redeeming diversion value; some fun, less worry.

This week I watched both "Straw Dogs" and "War for the Planet of the Apes." Both of these films were clearly created to raise the audience's self esteem: "If this can get funding, maybe I can."

There are spoilers here but since they are so obvious and you probably can guess what they are,  I suppose they aren't really spoilers.

"Straw Dogs" is a remake. Remakes imply a certain level of success either artistically or commercially on the part of the first film but there is no evidence that is the case here. The original starred Dustin Hoffman and a pouty and occasionally naked Susan George and was created by the violence -ridden Sam Peckenpah, whose depiction of  savagery was always called "a study." In it an abstract writer and his gorgeous wife take a house in a tough rural area where he is not accepted, she is eventually raped and the husband is criticized by the wife and the script (despite his not knowing about the rape) for not doing anything about it. Eventually he fights the bad guys in an effort to protect the house, not the wife ("I will not tolerate violence against this house"). This was called by critics as a property obsession and a "Fascist Manifesto." We were all expected to take solace in the fact that revenge was taken, albeit for the wrong reason. 

The remake is similar, with an unfortunate caricature played by James Woods, a lovely Kate Bosworth playing George's role and a number of good other actors. As in the original, everybody is guilty--or really stupid. It has been said in reviews that this educated--rural, working-unemployed, atheist-Christian dichotomy provides an insight into divided America. They are too kind.

"War for the Planet of the Apes" is a continuation of the Rousseau-meets-PETA "Apes" saga, again implying something to build on. Again this might be a stretch. The story opens with the kindly, reflective apes--led by the ape philosopher-king Caesar--successfully defending themselves with sticks against a disciplined American military unit armed with automatic weapons, artillery and armor, led, apparently really ineptly, by a mildly Kurtz-ly psychopathic Woody Harrelson. The good ape leader's family is killed and the ape encounters his dark side as he seeks revenge. (You can see where this will lead; he becomes more human. Oh, the irony. The Horror.) Three Hairy Amigos set out on a journey of retribution. They encounter a mute girl, played by an enchanting Amiah Miller, who is not stupefied by the movie but whose muteness actually raises a surprisingly interesting question in the story. They move on and encounter slavemasters. Caesar offers himself for others and is crucified, crazy Harrelson admits to sacrificing his only son to increasingly confusing symbolism, the apes all escape to watch the humans kill each other off --clearly too stupid and vicious to survive--and the apes all wander the desert and find their home just as Caesar, Moses-like, dies. 

This is actually an entertaining franchise if you can overlook the silliness and pretentions. The ape acting and reconstructed movements is quite something to see. The guy who plays Caesar is astonishing. And Miller was terrific. But the interesting original disturbing premise has become more and more childlike in word and deed.