Greatest Written Films - Planet of the Apes (1968)

I like to write the odd quote. I thought I'd share one. Feel free to use it if you feel so inclined.

'Getting Angry at Stupid People is like cursing the Grass for Growing.'
AJL



Greatest Written Films






Planet of the Apes (1968)


Planet of the Apes? You gotta be freaking kidding! A good action piece.. sure.. even a great sci-fi film but a Best Written Film?Are you insane man?
Alright, I hear what your saying. But give me a chance here.

Sure you can raise your eyebrows at a film that is predominately known for its make-up (for which it won a special Oscar) and sci-fi themes, rather than being a great screenplay. Yet the origin of this film lies in its period, an era when foreigners were evil and black people 'beneath us' and communists were lurking to take over the world.

Pierre Boulle wrote the novel Monkey Planet in 1963. When Hollywood bought the options, the screenplay was written by the legendary Rod Serling, the man behind The Twilight Zone. His changes made it a significantly better story but the core principles remained the same. The unknown breeds fear and fear is the parent to intolerance. It's still a pertinent message.

Apart from working as a tense and exciting thriller, Planet of the Apes reveals our darkest fears, that of the subjugated overthrowing us, where we become the racially oppressed. Our hold on this world is tenacious. Suddenly we are not listened to, nor matter. The shoe is much more uncomfortable on the other foot. You could argue that it's xenophobic in nature, but people only see what they want to see. The core design was simply, 'see how you'd like it.' The injustice should have you seething.

In the 1960's the message needed to be sent. America (& the world) still suffered from widespread intolerance; the Watts Riots of '65, the 'growing plague' of communism from South-East Asia and the year this film was released, 1968, with the assassination of Martin Luther King.

As far as the film itself went, Producer Arthur P. Jacobs had to fight for it. Special screen and make-up tests were done to prove to the studios that it could actually be made. Thankfully they agreed to go ahead.





Planet of the Apes still holds up today, easily overshadowing Tim Burton's terrible 2001 remake. There were four sequels to the original, only one of which had any merit (Escape from the Planet of the Apes) and two short-lived TV spinoff's. Apes was hugely popular and made a star out of its prime chimp, Roddy McDowell.

And it's not over. A prequel Rise of the Apes is planned for release in 2011, though to me, it seems that this story was already covered in the many sequels. If it's anything like the current crop of remakes and sequels, it will probably suck.



I particularly like the court scene where those in power did not want to know the truth. (carefully analyse the picture below). Has anything really changed at all?




Coming Soon,

More Poetry and Stories about Fuck All and Everything.

My Books

Until Then,

Story: 37 Angel & 'Story driven' music clip

"Youth is, after all, just a moment, but it is the moment, the spark that you always carry in your heart."
- Raisa Gorbachev


37 Angel




She is beautiful.
Not a real Princess.
But a Princess to me.
I do not know her name though I have seen her before. On the train platform. This time, I want to be sure. I must find out where.
I hurry, head down, so I don’t attract attention. People only remember you when they’ve seen into your eyes.
I dress simply. I am unremarkable.
Not like her.
She’s a Glowing Star.
Can’t they see? It almost blinds me.
Of course they can’t.
Their dullness surrounds them, so much so that they become blinded. If only they knew the jewels that swim amongst them.
I keep her in view, but don’t get too close.
I weave among the people, the mushrooms. They remind me of mushrooms. I don’t know why.
I can’t see her face from here. If I cross the street, I will have to keep watch and give myself away.



I keep my patience. I am patient. A patient patient, my Dad once said, before he went AWOL. I can wait months. One time, it was years.
Not this one.
She is too special.
The crowd thins out.
She heads into the internet map of suburban streets. I back off. Just enough.
She has headphones in. Clueless. A good sign.
Her hips are thin, slimmer than the others, slightly younger but for some reason I want this one more.
A dog barks.
‘Shit.’ A yappy little rodent. Have to remember to avoid next time, but at least I know.
When I look up, she is gone.
Entered a house, but which one?
No one about, I walk faster. I must find out which. Can only be one of several, better to find out now. Save hours of risky drive-bys. I would do it though. This one’s worth it.
Please. Please.
Just need a little clue. Just one.
There. That sound. Prayers answered. A door shutting. Letterbox. 37. Done.
Got you.
Not Yet.
But I will.

end


https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/books

I want to share a song I really love that has its genesis in narrative. Listen to the lyrics. It's pure storytelling. Pulp disbanded in the early naughties but Jarvis Cocker continues to write stories in his lyrics with his solo albums, mostly regarding sexual politics and relationships.



If you're not familiar with him or Pulp, I highly recommend you check him out. Outside from the writing, the music is brilliant.

http://www.jarviscocker.net/

Flash Fiction: Do the Bus Stop - and The Fall - Movie

The desire of knowledge, like the thirst for riches, increases ever with the acquisition of it.
- Laurence Sterne


Do the Bus Stop

The bus stop is her stage. At this, she's a pro.
Her school associates, the audience.
Passers-by get a free show.
7.55 a.m.
It’s her time.
Standing on the lip of the gutter, she pouts, she spouts, gibberish, about herself, what else is there? She knows it doesn’t matter what she says, as long as they look.
And they do. They're hooked.
Her friends divided. The beady Green-Eyed Camp.
And the Popular Wannabe like her Vamps.
Yet it’s the boys who shower her with the most power. While the geeks don’t have the courage to peek, and those with no chance don't give her a glance, the majority stare at her perfect thighs and the way she strokes her fingers high, as she helps her skirt to rise and soar, like Marilyn Monroe, once before.
7.57 a.m.
Seems to be getting busier on this trail.
Funny how they’re all male.
Let's get graphic with the traffic. She bends forward; allowing her propped up cleavage to shine.
She’s outrageous, but wants them to think, she’s mine.
7.58 a.m.
It’s her time.
And she loves it.
So does the bus driver.
Ogling, he pulls in too quick and the side mirror smacks her head.
Gunk sprays the crowd.
She goes down like lead.
Today, there’ll be no Curtain Call.
7.58 a.m.
It was her time after all.

https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/books

I want to share with you one of my favourite films. It's called The Fall and was only released a couple of years ago, but for some inexplicable reason, bypassed everybody. Quite simply, it is one of the most visual films I've ever seen and is embedded in the very essence of storytelling. I predict that this film will grow by word of mouth and in years to come, will come to be recognised for what it is, a true classic.

https://www.anthonyjlangfordbooks.com/books

Coming soon, poems, stories, news about my next writing project, artists that inspire me and new polls. Any suggestions/feedback for the site are truly welcome.

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