Rise of the Planet of the Apes ***½

Director: Rupert Wyatt

Cast: James Franco, Freida Pinto, John Lithgow, Brian Cox

Tom Felton, David Oyelowo, Tyler Labine, Jamie Harris, Andy Serkis 

Rise of the Planet of the Apes is simply put: a history of evolution. To say it's simple is nothing but a hopeful invitation for audiences to discover the movie that might've contributed the most to popular culture iconography as far as this year goes. 

Not because the film is especially complicated, or convoluted, plot-wise, but because to dwell too much into its twists and turns might be to rob people of the pleasure of its discovery. How director Rupert Wyatt managed to not only reboot, but also refresh this franchise is perhaps a bigger mystery than the scientific alternatives offered in it.

Perhaps setting the tone for what will be a revolution of minorities, the film is set in San Francisco, where we meet Will Rodman (Franco) a young scientist trying to develop a cure for Alzheimer's disease to help cure his father (Lithgow). Will tests the drug on chimpanzees who begin showing signs of cerebral improvement, but to fulfill dramatic purposes, the program is shut down after an accident involving one of the test subjects.After this Will is left in charge of a newborn chimp, which he names Caesar.

Like a story out of the Old Testament, Will raises Caesar in secret and realizes this is no ordinary creature as his brain capacity increases by the day. As he grows up though, Caesar is left adrift in an existential limbo wondering whether he's a human (because of his ability to communicate) or a wild creature (because of his inability to fully control his instincts).

The burning shrub for this figurative Moses (and this isn't the only nod to Charlton Heston and the 1968 classic) arrives in the shape of an ape sanctuary where he is sent after attacking a human. There -among the abused circus veterans and mistreated test subjects- he realizes that he must save his kind from those who have oppressed them. Singlehandedly, Caesar leads the revolution that will set the apes free.

It's safe to say that humans are the least interesting factor in the film. Other than Lithgow's moving performance and Cox's wicked villain turn, the human storylines are plagued with clichés and things we've seen a million times before (there's a strange romance between Franco and Pinto - who plays a vet - that never really clicks).

The film's soul is obviously Caesar, and more than him, it belongs to the man who plays him: Andy Serkis. Without the need to rely on phony ape suits, Serkis' motion capture performance is a thing of haunting beauty. Not for a second do we doubt this creature is alive and thriving with burning inner desires.

To witness this performance is to find ourselves at the peak of an evolutionary path that began with the first cave paintings, through which humans tried to emulate life using external tools. 

This is one of the evolutionary paths observed keenly by Wyatt and his splendid crew; the transition from rudimentary pencil creations, then to more complex methods and finally to recreate and encourage life using computers isn't a mere technological achievement, it also serves as a sort of ethical clause that makes us wonder: what's next?

The film doesn't rely on a Frankenstein theory to make us understand that its main point is to point out the thin lines that divide our existential ambiguity: we can be monsters or gods. 

Therefore the film follows a parallel road and through Caesar's biography we are given a glimpse of how the actual biological evolution must've occurred. How wild apes slowly had different needs and were forced to develop skills that would help their preservation.

Commanded with a precise, breathtakingly economical, hand by Wyatt, the film is an exemplary blockbuster that proves how our achievements as a race will always have the ability to both mesmerize and terrify us. 

Leap Year *

Director: Anand Tucker
Cast: Amy Adams, Matthew Goode
Adam Scott, John Lithgow, Kaitlin Olson

Why are current romantic comedies so chauvinist? Even if they pretend to be about strong, independent women who take the reins of their lives in the face of adversity (which usually comes in the shape of a charming, detestable and often sexy man who they inevitably fall for), the truth is that they serve only as vessels of pent up anger and extreme gender polarization.
In Leap Year, Amy Adams plays Anna, the control freak interior designer with an agenda: marry her boyfriend Jeremy (Scott).
When he presents her with a small jewelry box, before he parts on a business trip, she is sure he's finally proposing; but when the contents of the box reveal to be earrings, Anna takes charge.
She decides she will travel to Dublin and propose to him herself! After all an old Irish tradition establishes that it's acceptable for women to propose to men on February 29th.
So, not only is her empowerment limited by an ancient tradition that happens only once every four years (like presidential elections), it also forces her to act out of pure despair and surrender her self control to irrational behavior.
For starters, you never believe that someone like Anna would take on such an insane enterprise (especially when she's supposed to be on the hunt for a new upscale apartment) but also Amy Adams is just too likable for us to think she's a total bitch like the screenplay suggests.
Then again she obviously isn't flying to Ireland just to be with her boyfriend, she also is meant to meet, hate and then fall for an obnoxious local.
This time it's Declan (Goode) a pub owner who's a bit rough around the edges but has a killer smile and sensitive eyes that capture Anna's heart despite her original mission.
All along of course, it's the woman who seems indecisive, it's Anna who thinks of cheating and flirts with a handsome stranger while her boyfriend cures hearts (he's a cardiologist).
It's only when the movie's ready to give Anna a new male reason to live, that Jeremy's ugly nature begins to surface, but only when the movie's sure Anna will now have a new male figure to torment.
The film gives her a facile Freudian excuse by showing us a glimpse of her dad (Lithgow): an unstable, irresponsible man who made his daughter fear spontaneity and poverty; but when the movie suggests that Anna's materialism in a way will come bite her in the ass, you can't help but realize there's really no way this woman will be able to please this plot.

Confessions of a Shopaholic **1/2

Director: P.J. Hogan
Cast: Isla Fisher, Hugh Dancy, Krysten Ritter
John Goodman, Joan Cusack, John Lithgow, Leslie Bibb
Lynn Redgrave, Kristin Scott Thomas

Rebecca Bloomwood (Fisher) is a journalist with a problem: she is addicted to shopping. Her excessive spending is sinking her in debt and she must hide from a feared credit collector (Robert Stanton who almost steals the film) while trying to land a job in "Alette" a fashion magazine she's dreamed of working in since se was a child.
A strike of, odd, luck lands her a job in a financial magazine instead, where she becomes an overnight sensation with her savvy column that brings money issues down to Earth for the average reader (read people too lazy to care about what's going on in the world and teenagers) by using fashion/shopping metaphors.
The magazine blooms, she develops a crush on her editor Luke (Dancy) and must hide her fiscal secrets from those who admire her.
Out of the land of realism this film is not. Rebecca's optimistic irresponsibility would have her in a pretty bad situation nowadays and what for many people might be a nightmare, for this character becomes an obstacle to overcome in search of her fairy tale ending.
What's undeniable is that the movie makes for bubbly escapism that's ironically much needed in times like these.
Borrowing the snappy chick wisdom from "Sex and the City", irrationally cute fantasy sequences straight out of "Ally McBeal" and Fisher trying hard to be Reese Witherspoon in "Legally Blonde" it's obvious that nothing here is new.
Add to this some "The Devil Wears Prada" (with the delicious Scott Thomas channeling yet another version of Ms. Anna Wintour, but surprisingly less icy) and a cartoony sense of comedic timing and this will seem like time well spent.
The film suffers a bit from a feeling of haste and incompleteness, too many subplots, too little for us to care including Bibb as an "Alette" competitor and Rebecca's parents (Goodman and Cusack) trying to put some old-er age wisdom and heart into the vapidness.
And while Fisher has improved from her previous screen appearances (her comedic timing and slapstick skills are remarkable) she still lacks a little something to carry an entire movie on her back.
She's absolutely cute and you buy her (no pun intended) as someone who'd literally run from a debt collector, but she lacks presence, which becomes ironically obvious with her wardrobe.
While she narrates about how much she loves clothes and style, Fisher and consequentially Rebecca are sometimes so intimidated by Gucci, Prada, Fendi and all the others that they seem to drown in the clothes.
A particularly awkward piece of jewelry shaped as an anchor (which Rebecca wears to a convention in Miami) really does look heavy on her which proves that even if costume designer Patricia Field is a genius, she needs another genius to pull off her ideas.
Some people might feel offended by the shallowness displayed by most characters, but it's wise to think that those people would never even go see this for starters.
P.J. Hogan, an expert in chick-flicks and rom-coms, takes the wise side by turning this film into a farce that gets more outrageous by the scene (Lynn Redgrave practically has a cameo as a drunk lady who proclaims she loves Rebecca), perhaps only by stating Rebecca is a heroine, instead of judging her (like any normal person would) does he feel he can uplift people's spirits.
"Your mother and I think that if the American economy can be billions in debt and still survive, so can you" says Rebecca's father and while the theater lights are dimmed you actually believe this.