Conquest of the Planet of the Apes is the original series' angriest and most politically direct entry, a film that uses its science fiction premise to deliver an unambiguous allegory about racial oppression and revolutionary violence. J. Lee Thompson's 1972 film is not the most polished entry in the series, but it is the most urgent, and its refusal to soften the apes' uprising into something palatable gives it a raw energy the franchise's more philosophically nuanced entries sometimes lack.
At a Glance
Director: J. Lee Thompson
Runtime: 88 minutes
Starring: Roddy McDowall, Don Murray, Natalie Trundy, Hari Rhodes, Ricardo Montalban
Release: 1972
Critics Rating: ★★★ (3/5 stars, the franchise's most politically charged entry)
Audience Rating: ★★★ (3/5 stars, a compelling if uneven entry whose revolutionary energy distinguishes it within the series)
Plot
Set in a near-future America where apes have become the dominant slave labour force following a plague that killed all cats and dogs, the picture follows Caesar, the son of Cornelius and Zira, as he organises and leads a violent uprising against his human oppressors. The screenplay by Paul Dehn is the franchise's most explicitly political, drawing direct parallels between the apes' enslavement and the history of racial oppression in America with a directness that the original series had previously approached more obliquely. The uprising sequences, in which the apes turn their masters' instruments of control against them, are staged with a visceral energy that gives the picture its most distinctive passages, and Caesar's final speech, in which he embraces rather than moderates the violence of the revolution, is the franchise's most confrontational moment.
Characters
McDowall's Caesar is the franchise's most complex protagonist after Taylor, a character whose intelligence and moral seriousness are tested by the systematic brutality he witnesses and experiences, and whose eventual embrace of revolutionary violence is presented as a comprehensible response to intolerable conditions rather than a simple failure of principle. The human characters are drawn with less complexity, functioning primarily as representatives of the oppressive system rather than as fully realised people, which gives the picture a clarity that is effective even if it limits the nuance of its political argument. Ricardo Montalban's Armando, Caesar's human protector, is the most sympathetic human figure, and his death at the hands of the authorities gives Caesar's radicalisation its most immediate personal motivation. McDowall's performance is the film's central achievement, a portrayal of radicalisation that communicates the character's intelligence, his conviction, and the specific experiences that transform his initial desire for peaceful coexistence into a commitment to revolutionary violence.
Meaning / Themes
The central argument, that systematic oppression inevitably produces violent resistance and that the oppressor bears responsibility for the violence of the oppressed, is pursued with a consistency that gives it real force. The parallel between the apes' situation and the history of American slavery is explicit enough to have generated controversy at the time of release, and the refusal to moderate Caesar's final speech in favour of a more conciliatory message gives it an honesty that more commercially cautious productions would not have risked. The theatrical release version softened the ending; the original cut is considerably more uncompromising.
Direction
Thompson pitches the picture at a register of political anger rather than philosophical inquiry, a tonal choice that gives the uprising sequences a raw energy but that also removes the satirical precision that distinguished the original. The visual design, with its brutalist architecture and its uniformed ape workers, gives the near-future setting a dystopian coherence that the reduced budget manages more effectively than in Beneath. The torture sequences, in which Caesar is subjected to electric shocks to force him to speak, are the most disturbing passages and are presented without the distancing irony that the original series sometimes used to soften its darker material.
Thompson's direction is functional rather than distinctive in the earlier sequences but finds a kinetic energy in the uprising itself, staging the apes' takeover of the command centre with a spatial coherence and a momentum that the franchise's action sequences had not previously achieved. Tom Scott's score replaces the franchise's established composers with a more percussive and politically inflected approach that suits the angrier register without achieving the compositional distinctiveness of Goldsmith's original work.
Conquest of the Planet of the Apes received mixed reviews on its release but was a commercial success, grossing over $9 million worldwide. Its explicit racial allegory generated considerable discussion at the time of release, and it is now regarded as the original series' most politically committed entry, a picture whose urgency and uncompromising stance give it a historical significance that extends beyond its entertainment value. The original uncut version, with its more confrontational ending, is increasingly regarded as the definitive cut and the one that most fully realises the film's intentions.
Final Verdict: The series' most politically committed entry, a picture whose uncompromising stance and refusal to soften its argument give it a distinctive energy within the original franchise. Caesar's arc is the series' most psychologically direct, the uprising sequences are its most viscerally effective action passages, and the decision not to moderate its political argument in favour of commercial comfort gives it an integrity that more polished entries do not always achieve.