Just a Moment

I read the novelization for "Battle for the Planet of the Apes" before I saw it at the Boulder Theater (way back when it was a movie theater). This was true of many of the summer movies that came our way back in the 1970's. When we headed into the big city (there was no movie theaters in Nederland), we might be fortunate enough to catch a film - if the whole family was interested.
This was my challenge: generating enough interest to make the pilgrimage to the cinema. The problem was, even though I was a devout follower of the Planet of the Apes saga, I knew that the end was in sight for the series when this one came chugging around the bend. Still, I'm a completist and I knew that I must see it. The posters urged me on: "The final chapter in the incredible Apes saga. The most suspenseful showdown ever filmed as two civilizations battle for the right to inherit what's left of the earth!"
Then I started checking out the credits: Roddy McDowall was back as Caesar, as was Severn Darden as Governor Kolp - but Paul Williams as an orangutan? Where was the Charlton Heston - even the James Franciscus? The knowledge that Natalie Trundy, the producer's wife, had been cast as Caeser's wife seemed less like clever casting than nepotism. I tried to keep a good face on the thing.
When I read it, I imagined the epic struggle to bring the human and ape races together in peace and harmony - complete with devastated ruins of the forbidden zone complete with radiation scarred mutants. Instead I got the back lot of Twentieth Century Fox (later the home of the exterior shots for MASH) and a lot of poorly dressed humans with a seeming minority of super-intelligent apes (budget-minded executives suggested fewer lengthy and expensive makeup jobs). The "mutants" were pale folks with mild acne and a penchant for black turtlenecks. Even John Huston as The Lawgiver wasn't enough to put it over the top.
Still, one scene stays with me today, from the page to the screen to my memory. Caeser's son is sitting in the makeshift school room where human and ape children are learning side by side. A surly group of barely literate adult gorillas sit in the back, waiting for class to end. The teacher, a human, presides over a writing lesson as the students copy part of the new law, handed down from Caeser: "Ape Shall Not Kill Ape." One by one, the children and chimps hand their slates over to "Teacher" as he examines them and makes suggestions. The gorillas are not interested in reading or writing, but would rather be off riding. In spite of the distractions, "Teacher" takes the slate of young Cornelius (son of Caeser). He praises the work, but suggests that he be more careful with his Ps, "You wrote 'Ape shall not kill Abe.'" A surprised Cornelius replies, "Teacher, has it been so long that you have forgotten your own name?" The teacher pauses for a moment and reflects. "It has been a long time since anyone has called me by my name - 'Ape shall not kill Abe' - thank you, Cornelius."
I grew up into that moment. It's filed away, just a little gem in a fistful of gravel.