Gone ape indeed

In 1974 the big SF-media push was to “Go Ape!” I was so enamored of doing so at age 10 that I made it a point to imitate Roddy MacDowall’s ape-walk everywhere until brought to sanity by an unkind comment from my mom. But actually seeing the movies was tough – kids my age had to wait for chopped-up versions on our crap TVs, and mine was bad even for the early 70s. As a reading-frenzy kid, I had immediately hunted down the original novel and the novelizations of the films, but the Go Ape media blast came after that. It was based less on the movies, which were pretty grown-up SF, and instead more at the TV-watching and comics-reading kids.

Therefore our Apes were composed of the final film Battle for the Planet of the Apes which saw a lot of TV play in the next couple of years; the Planet of the Apes TV show in 1974; the black-and-white comics magazine from the Curtis Magazines branch of-or-with Marvel; the toy line from Mego under the same license, including action figures and a bunch of playsets, plus an assortment of Halloween costumes and similar cheap stuff; and the 1975 TV cartoon show, Return to the Planet of the Apes.

I’ll dispose of the first item quickly: Battle is an unmitigated piece of shit, the only genuinely bad work of the original films. It was the only one made under new ownership and lacked the input of Rod Serling,

The 1974 TV show apparently commands little respect among modern fandom, and although I grant you it’s no great prize, it deserves at least some credit. Fourteen episodes were made, two of which I consider completely horrible, and about six of which are surprisingly good – about the same ratio as Firefly, episode by episode. Its virtues include great scripting for and standout performances by Booth Colman as Zaius and Mark Lenard as General Urko, with excellent masks/makeup that allowed for actual acting. Its content – when not marred by “run at the camera, guys!” – was pretty edgy, including criticism of contemporary U.S. policy, e.g., cluster bombs, with one episode that was too controversial to air. [Hey, Firefly features the same, only for someone’s bare butt, rather than, you know, actual content.] In re-watching, I’m impressed by the range of ethics and decisions among the gorilla characters, who are scripted as trapped between their own bigotry against humans and the discrimination they receive from the other apes – it turns out the chimps are more often the sneaky bad guys, and Urko is often provided with sound motivations. All these are obscured by tons of knee-reflex plotting, the costumes probably looted from the same closet as Star Trek’s The Omega Glory, and the action/fight tropes of its era, but they’re worth a look.

My pals and I were really excited at the appearance of the 1975-1976, animated Return to the Planet of the Apes, which is also totally obscure especially in comparison to the well-known animated Star Trek of roughly the same period. Like that latter example, the show was generally faithful to the presentation and themes of the primary work, which in case, led to slow pacing and idea-driven debates, not at all the standard model for half-hour episodes aimed at random-play syndication. Visually, it was weird and spooky, typically panning across static imagery, with non-industry-standard rendering.

I now appreciate its ambitious and arty qualities and, remarkably for the time, its genuine full-series story, but it’s not fandom or franchise bait at all. It was especially unloved by the network and took a whole year for the thirteen episodes to air so I only saw a few back then, but its edginess stuck with me. They had some balls to depict mutant cultists chanting “Oosa! Oosa!”, and yes, in the intro, those are explicit crucifixions.

The magazine is my main topic, and man, what a magazine, completely of its era. Like all the Curtis Magazines work, it was much more like a zine, wearing its production-team-as-fans on its sleeve. The line editor was Marv Wolfman (this is the period when Wolfman oversaw the magazines and Wein oversaw the comics), the magazine editor was first Don McGregor and then Archie Goodwin, and the chief writer was Doug Moench.


1. Adaptations of the films, with the first illustrated by George Tuska, then Beneath by Alfredo Alcala – for which I could only gasp holy shit, it was terrifying. As an avid fan, I was most personally affected by Beneath and Escape, and these adaptations – rendered in unbelievable ink and the usual take-no-prisoners Curtis editorial attitude, also evident in Savage Tales – affected me much like one reads about from kids terrified by church pamphlets about hellfire and damnation.

2. Tight coordination with the TV show, featuring extensive coverage, interviews, and promotion, much of it by Chris Claremont who was apparently on-set a lot. Pages and pages of production details, makeup sequences, interviews with everyone, written in a gushy haze with no hint of promotional savvy – pure fan catnip. The desperate attempts to discern, or more accurately, invent a genuine continuity among the Apes works are a fine artifact for study.


3. An original adventure series by Moench and Mike Ploog, in a setting roughly similar to that of the TV show, with peasant-ish downtrodden humans, but with themes more allied to the first two films. It starred an ape-human buddy duo without the latter being an astronaut, which I think is unique among all the Apes material. The art eventually shifted to Rico Rival, and the setting to one more like that in the first two films, with bestial humans. I don’t think I ever read more than ten – twelve? – issues back then, but it was genuinely riveting, freaky stuff on par with the best of the Warren mags or Metal Hurlant, and I’d like to read this whole series some time.

4. Promotion of the Mego action figure line, apes first of course, but also the Star Trek and superhero ones. For the time, the Apes figures were well-done, carefully on-model for the characters and costumed in detail, and the magazine featured photo ads for all of them. However, advertising culture had a couple years to go before perfecting the mighty engines we consider normal today. Compared to the psyop-class marketing G.I. Joe received a decade later (see G.I. Who), the Mego figures might as well have been handed out on random street corners.

I feel the need to explain something about Apes – it revels in militaristic violence and race overtones, all to the purpose of subverting both entirely. You won’t catch that without dedicated viewing. Most of it’s intelligent enough not to offer a pablum solution like so many 70s B-efforts (The Omega Man, Logan’s Run) but rather to drive into genuine tragedy, leaving the viewer shocked. This latter effect began to fail after Serling was no longer involved, including the borked ending of Conquest; the unbelievable stupidity of Battle; and the Gilligan-like must-escape, can’t-escape situation of the protagonists in the live-action show. In this flux, talking about the themes was almost impossible: trying to dial back someone’s perception that it was a gun-crazy probably-racist gore-fest at the same time as insisting the most available examples of it were quality-compromised. It’s probably why the films have only survived in fandom as empty memes.

As a franchise promotion, Go Ape fell apart almost immediately, a miserable failure. In retrospect, it’s pretty obvious why. The subject matter was wholly adult and hard to get to the target market of ten-year-olds. Kids wouldn’t be allowed to see the movies, and I get that actually; Beneath is traumatic for anyone, and Escape and Conquest are blatantly anti-Establishment and not in any cute or easily-dismissed way. Kids didn’t have the income to get the magazine easily, not to mention that the magazines were rarely carried on the spinner racks, and parents who looked at it wouldn’t be letting them buy another one, especially in the thick of the new wave of throwing-out-comics for Jesus. The TV show was screwed by the network and up against fierce competition including The Six Million Dollar Man, and the cartoon was barely available and obviously written by adults for adults, being both slow-paced and full of scary imagery. And it was a rare parent who’d be quick to get a playset like this one – putting people in cages, that kind of thing. Parents aside, the content is also thoroughly intellectual, practically a seminar discussion curriculum, and for all its action, extremely shy on outright adventure.

From the other direction, too, grown-up SF culture was very different then. It’s hard to explain now, but the chain of sequels was regarded as schlock, not saga. Remember, this is pre-Star Wars, or more accurately, pre-“trilogy,” and when the first Star Wars did come along a few years later, it was emphatically sold as and widely considered a kid movie. Furthermore, pre-Alien and pre-Blade Runner, science fiction fandom elevated prose above all else, with movies considered lowbrow, and neither 2001 nor Logan’s Run had made a dent in that. Even the movie-branch of science fiction grown-ups weren’t impressed by the blatant failure of story-consistency (I don’t care how many circles-and-arrows you draw) and simple absence of an ending. As for the purchasing, adults back then weren’t interested at all in dolls.

The experience had a real impact on me, related to what I would be thinking about for comics in another year or two (Never heard of’em): my first step in immunization against franchise fandom. I liked Star Trek because it was often edgy and dissenting, and the product line was often cottage-industry like the tribbles at the Federation outpost – but the viewer-romance with the characters as a soap or buddy comedy was just then blossoming, evident in the first collections of fanfic to be published, and I was already finding it cloying. I liked Apes for the same reason: its raw cry of what am I? who am I? what have we done to ourselves? why do we act this way? that I recognized from the science fiction I liked the most (see A dangerous vision). I was right in between: E.T. wouldn’t arrive to clinch the mainstreaming for aliens until 1982, and initial box-office surprise or not, Star Wars fandom wouldn’t kick in hard until Jedi in 1983 – by then I was out of the consumer zone entirely.

Links: Den of Geek; informative thread at Classic Comics

Next comics: Ophite, Gnosis, p. 10 (ending) (January 28)

Next column: More women 2 (January 29)

About Ron Edwards

Game author, publisher, consultant, teacher

Posted on January 22, 2017, in Commerce, Filmtalk, The 70s me and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 9 Comments.

  1. I forgot to mention this book, which I like a lot.



    That Return intro is jaw-dropping. That actually aired on Saturday mornings?


  3. The whole Apes franchise figures pretty prominently in the mythology of one circle of my friends; we’ve used bits of it in various songwriting projects (we’re prosumer musicians).

    We’ve even watched the entire run (or most of it) of the cartoon, and all I can say is that, powerful opening or not, it is awful. Typical static ’70s, low-budget animation that recycles sequences and features a lot of motionless faces and obscured mouths. All I can give it credit for is featuring both a woman and an African-American in the human crew and not treating them totally like expendables.

    Anyway, I wanted to highlight this bit:

    “I feel the need to explain something about Apes – it revels in militaristic violence and race overtones, all to the purpose of subverting both entirely. You won’t catch that without dedicated viewing. Most of it’s intelligent enough not to offer a pablum solution like so many 70s B-efforts (The Omega Man, Logan’s Run) but rather to drive into genuine tragedy, leaving the viewer shocked.”

    Yes, dear Zaius, yes.

    Oh, another aside: as a kid I was pretty obsessed with the TV show. I did a bust of Cornelius as an art project for a Cub Scout competition and actually won (or maybe placed). My reward was to have the bust featured in some drug store window, and then I never saw it again.


    • I prefer to regard the cartoon’s animation as maximizing avant-garde impact given overriding constraints, and I’m only about 25% kidding. C’mon, no love for the actual story? Just maximum motion and fluidity, that’s “good,” and full stop? Tough crowd around here.

      The drugstore guy’s son-in-law probably just made $8,000 on e-bay off your Cornelius head by passing it off as a genuine prop. Let’s hope it went to a good home though.


  4. My childhood-memory trigger must (at least sometimes) be more auditory than visual. I watched the Return intro thinking “I don’t think I saw this” until that voice rang out “Return – to the Planet of the Apes!”, and it all came rushing back to me. That is, all the confusion came rushing back to me.

    Because that’s my main memory of the Planet of the Apes stuff back then – especially the cartoon. Confusion. Often thought-provoking, wow-let’s-consider-this confusion, but also “bah, I can’t make sense of this – it must suck” confusion. Books, movies, cartoons, record-comics (both movie-derived and new stories, per http://pota.goatley.com/powerrecords.html), and no way to link ’em all in any coherent way. I was overly-sensitive to that as a youngster (and without the comics-context that incoherent cross-reference was utterly normal), so I think I under-appreciated the Apes.

    I certainly agree that recognizing the movies – the ones/parts of ’em that are good – as primarily tragic in nature is a key to appreciating them. I got there eventually, but it took a while.

    I’m pretty sure I did own a couple of those record-comics, but I don’t think I saw the Go Ape! promo (http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/planetoftheapes/images/a/aa/Power_Records_poster.JPG/revision/latest?cb=20100110132754). Probably, one of the record-comics I had was a movie-derivative, the other one of the new stories, and I just ended up more confused. Since I expect such confusion is meant to induce more purchases, I guess I’m happy my reaction is more often to find something different to read/watch/listen to. But in case it’s not clear, I’m also glad for the thought-provoking confusion. While my reactionary impulse might be to dismiss Planet of the Apes-stuff, I suspect the truth is its’ impact on me has been notable, and, in the end … salutary.


  5. Since your blog is autobiographical I feel allowed to ask, did your relationship with this material… Man, I can’t find the English words… What are the points of contact, if any, between this and choosing to study Biology?

    Also I wonder if you ever changed career paths. I guess people don’t change careers often in the U. S. because it’s expensive. In Argentina the best universities are free, so it’s not uncommon to, say, study Law for a year or two, then grow the balls to accept that you’re doing it just to please your parents, leave it and start the career you really like instead.


    • Hi Santiago,

      As I’ve advised many, many students, most lives look linear only in retrospect and with judicious editing. Mine looks very linear and seems full of pre-determining moments; for example, you can trace the concepts in the “real” Apes films (first four) directly into my own book The Edge of Evolution, as well as, obviously, my repeated childhood reading of The Island of Doctor Moreau.

      However, the actual experience was full of horizontal transfers. At the end of high school I would have seemed far more oriented toward philosophy, political history, and fanciful literature, and you can see plenty of SFF, comics, music, and theater too – not just interest, but significant training and performance. It also so happens that I was able to choose among multiple university programs, and selected the University of Chicago for a number of reasons. One of those reasons was its extremely open program at the time, far different from most in the U.S. That program is sadly no longer in existence, but 30-35 years ago, your major was a polite joke until about halfway through, and there were very few if any “nonmajor” courses.

      Therefore despite what looks like a guided missile toward a biology career (lots of wilderness and ecology as a child, high AP score, beginning undergraduate research during my first term there), I was actually not a decided bio major until my junior year (age 21). Given my time in theater prior to that point, if I’d ended up running a guerrilla/indie theater group in Chicago instead, you’d say in retrospect that it had “obviously” been in my stars before then too. Even more so for music, although that fell away before the theater did – I had been good enough to know that to stay good and excel, I’d need to practice every day and make it my first professional priority.

      I’ll tell you what I told the students for 25 years: that you can “dream” all you want, but it better be an informed dream about your next step, not a vision of the far future. And the next step should always be based on which group of people, at that moment and in that place, are willing to support you and openly back your play. That is the only way that step will actually happen.

      Perhaps I should clarify that all of this was couched in class issues and in many ways I’m an example of unsuccessful assimilation. I was low-income from a nowhere location, and had made it into private high school on scholarship, then into this notoriously high-priced university on loans-and-scholarship as well. I was far, far out of my cultural zone or that of anyone in my family by the time I was 16, always deeply concerned with the debt I was amassing (very little in modern terms but not trivial either), and always looking in multiple directions in order to see what was possible at all. At 18, I was geographically removed as well, and I had no money, no credit, no connections, no network, no expectations, and no knowledge of the relevant memes and standards by which everyone around me operated – very much a coyote who’d sniffed into the neighborhood.

      Therefore my standards are low in most people’s terms. So far, I’m calling it a basic win because I’m not yet dead and have never been in prison. More win on top of that is a great thing, and I’ve seen some bits and pieces of it.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Santiago Verón

        Ha ha ha nice!!!

        I support 100% you paragraph about “dream” and “step” and “people”. Wish I’d known more about that, say, 10 years ago, but I’m still grateful that I got to understand some of that before turning 30.

        Thanks for your thorough response. Re-reading, I wonder what got you “looking in multiple directions in order to see what was possible at all” (which I understood in part to mean doing different activities in different venues – the “other” part sounds, like, survival? It reminds me of my sister, who can hitchhike to the north of Brazil and back learning and teaching skills like juggling, clown, farming and tango), instead of just retreating into a shell / going back home / quitting or whatever.

        I’m not sure if I’m expressing it well, but it strikes me that many people, when times are uncertain, try to firmly grip a “one sure thing”, instead of a shotgun approach of seeing what sticks.


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