The Invisible Swords of College Conquest

by Thomas M. Pender

College – or, as I’m apt to refer to it, “The Limbo of Life” – was a wonderful and magical sphere of being, where you get to be an adult, but you get to be a kid again, too!  While you are working to better yourself, it’s also the first time you get to be on your own (assuming you go away to school, as I did) to really find out who you are.  It’s also a great place to meet all kinds of people, and learn what kinds of friends you really wish to have!

To no one’s shock, my chosen friends were all loons.

My freshman year, while being incredibly challenging and lesson-teaching (mostly the outside-the-classroom-lessons-of-Life kind), was made up of nine straight months of laughter and adventure, centered around a goofy crew of a few close-knit men who made the most – and the most fun – of any and every situation.

Dating rituals, for example.  While I have no doubt that those I met and chose as friends were polite gentlemen on their dates (although they’d never admit it back then, whilst trying to maintain their coolness), in our women-free zone of male bonding time, we had great fun discussing upcoming dates, successful dates, women of interest and certainly attractive complete strangers who passed our way.  One ritual that just kind of “happened” was the sword brandishing.

On a random day when one of us in the group was discussing an upcoming date, a successful date or a woman of interest, someone . . . most likely Terry “Trigger” Thompson . . . pulled an invisible sword from an invisible sheath attached to his invisible belt, made the sound of a sword being drawn, held it invisibly aloft and made a sort of pirate-y cry of triumph.

Those of us in attendance proceeded to immediately bust our collective guts, love the action, and mimic the action.  A tradition was born.

After that, whenever one of us had an upcoming date, a successful date or had met a woman of interest to talk about, however many of us in attendance would immediately draw our invisible swords (complete with sound effects, of course!), invisibly clang them together, and re-insert them.

Silly?  Yes.  Immature?  Granted.  Fun and memorable boy fun?  Yar!

As is the case with everything that went on during that incredible year, the tradition has faded as friends have gone their ways.  Still, I know for a fact that the men these kids have become have a silly and raucous side to them, hidden beneath their business neckties and barbecuing aprons.  Should two or more of us meet up, and one have a piece of good news to share, I have no doubt that those in attendance will find that the swords of triumph, first wielded in the dormitories of Michigan State, are still firmly affixed.

Huzzah!

Simian Cinema Symposium

by Thomas M. Pender

At least once a year while I was growing up, The 4:30 Movie on Channel 7 in Detroit would show the five original Planet of the Apes movies, in a row, from Monday to Friday.  It was called “Apes Week.”  I found the series exciting and interesting.  I watched the 1974 TV series with my dad, and I had the “Planet of the Apes” lunchbox from the fourth through the sixth grade.

I’m a bit of a fan.

When Tim Burton’s re-imagination of the original film came out, I had mixed emotions.  The make-up technology was amazing, and I was impressed that the film actually ended just as Pierre Boulle’s novel did, but the clearly Burton-esque look seemed to taint the concept a bit.

Now, we have the non-Burton follow-up, Rise of the Planet of the Apes.  The big difference here is that the human actors portraying the chimpanzees, gorillas and orangutans have been replaced by computer-generated apes.

I should state here unequivocally that I am completely against computer animation of any kind.  I believe in stuntmen and cartoonists.  Someone with a degree in computer science should not be able to “make it seem like” Spiderman is zipping through the air.  Also, computer graphics are recognizable.  It takes away from the scene and the moment when an actor portraying Peter Parker pulls a mask over his head, and then quite obviously turns into a video game icon.

These rants aside, I was impressed with the look of the film.  Yes, it was obvious that no actual ape was used in the creation of the film.  Still, the pretend apes did not seem so cartoony.  They were apish enough that I could concentrate on the plot.

I was also impressed that the plot included plenty of elements from 1972’s Conquest of the Planet of the Apes, including the speaking and superintelligent ape Caesar, “descendant” of time warped superior apes from the future.  There were also several small elements that paid homage to the film’s origins, including: a quick non-ape movie clip of Charlton Heston, the late star of the first two original films; an orangutan character named “Maurice,” a nod to Maurice Evans, the original portrayer of orangutan scientist Dr. Zaius; a worker in an ape research facility who parrots Heston’s two great lines from the 1968 film: “It’s a madhouse!” and “Get your stinking paws off me, you damn dirty ape!”; a human nicknames an ape “Bright Eyes,” which recalls an ape’s nicknaming Heston’s character that same moniker; and Caesar plays with a toy Statue of Liberty, which evokes the unforgettable image at the end of the first original film.  I love such respectful puzzle pieces.

The plot is intelligent, the actors convincing, and the action engaging.  Aside from my computer graphics personal issue (which, admittedly, most viewers will not share), I really enjoyed this film, and I do look forward to more adventures in this world.