[One Week Later] [Newnan, Georgia]
One week into shooting, Zombieland was moving faster than anyone expected.
The first days had been spent building the tone of the movie piece by piece. The crew finished several of Columbus’s apartment scenes, including the awkward introduction to 406, the zombie reveal, and the frantic bathroom struggle that ended with Columbus taking his first real step into the apocalypse. Penny’s work as 406 had gone better than expected, and Christopher kept her scene locked into the schedule instead of treating it like a disposable cameo.
After that, production shifted into the road material.
Jack and Emma spent long hours shooting the early Columbus and Wichita scenes, building the strange rhythm between a nervous survivor who lived by rules and a con artist who trusted almost nobody. Their first scenes together needed a careful balance. Columbus had to look completely out of his depth around her, while Wichita had to feel sharp enough that the audience understood she could manipulate him without even trying.
Woody’s Tallahassee scenes moved quickly. He brought loud, reckless energy to every take, and the crew started adjusting around him because once he found the rhythm of a scene, the whole set seemed to wake up. His action beats were loud, messy, and physical, while the quieter Twinkie moments gave the character just enough sadness under the madness.
Chloë started her first Little Rock material during the middle of the week. Little Rock did not feel like a helpless kid tagging along with adults. She felt like someone who had learned very quickly that looking harmless was useful.
The road scenes took the most time. Georgia doubled for half a dead country as the production moved through empty streets, closed gas stations, abandoned service roads, and small-town corners dressed with wrecked cars and disaster debris. Each location had to feel like part of a larger collapse, even when the scene itself only covered a few seconds of screen time.
By the end of the week, the production had already finished more than expected. Christopher and Phil kept the pace sharp, and Richard kept the business side from slowing things down.
Well, the team knew their budget was limited, so everyone was giving their all.
In the middle of all that, the trailer for Jack’s new film finally dropped online.
This version of Planet of the Apes was not a continuation of the original films. It was a reboot set on Earth, built around a global invasion that began when portals opened across the planet and armed apes stepped through with futuristic weapons, military formations, and one clear goal.
They had come to take Earth.
Jack played Fred, a normal civilian caught in the first wave of the war while trying to keep his family alive.
That afternoon, the official trailer went live on YouTube.
..
A low electronic hum filled the silence before a news anchor’s voice broke through heavy static.
“Authorities are investigating unexplained atmospheric events in several major cities. Residents are being told to remain indoors until further notice.”
The first image appeared.
New York City stood frozen beneath a sky split open by blue-white light. People stopped in the streets, phones raised, faces tilted upward as a massive circular tear formed above the skyline. It twisted slowly, pulsing with energy that made nearby windows vibrate.
A little boy whispered, “Dad, what is that?”
The trailer cuts to London, Tokyo, Cairo, Moscow, Rio, and Los Angeles. Each city had its own portal opening above it. Some hovered over rivers. Some formed above highways. Some ripped through clouds like the sky itself had been torn apart.
Then came a quiet suburban street.
Fred stood in the middle of the road with his girlfriend, Mara, behind him, and his younger sister clutching his arm. He stared upward, confused and afraid, while neighbors stepped out of their homes around him.
His sister asked, “Are those planes?”
Something moved inside the portal.
Shapes dropped through the light.
At first, they looked like falling shadows. Then the camera sharpened.
Armored apes descended on sleek gliders, rifles glowing in their hands. Chimpanzee soldiers landed on rooftops. Gorillas crashed onto streets with enough force to crack pavement. Orangutan commanders stood behind floating shields, studying the humans below with cold intelligence.
A police officer shouted, “Get back!”
One ape raised a weapon and fired.
The police barricade exploded.
Fred's voice cut through the explosion, "RUN!!"
The trailer cut into chaos.
Cars flipped through intersections. Glass rained from office towers. Soldiers fired into the smoke as ape drones swept low over the streets. A fighter jet crossed the sky, only for something enormous to strike it from above and send it spiraling into the distance.
A military commander slammed his hand onto a war-room table.
“They’re not the primitive animals we know. They’re organized, armed, and moving like they’ve studied every defense we have.”
A scientist looked at satellite footage showing portals opening across the planet.
“This is our first contact... And we aren't ready.”
The screen cut to black.
White letters appeared.
THEY DIDN’T COME TO VISIT.
The music began building with heavy drums.
Fred dragged his sister through a grocery store as alarms screamed outside. Mara shoved water bottles and food into a backpack while the lights flickered overhead. Through the cracked front windows, ape patrols moved past abandoned cars with weapons raised.
Mara whispered, “We need to leave before they search this place.”
Fred looked toward the street, breathing hard.
“If we run now, they’ll see us.”
The trailer widened into the war.
Human tanks rolled through burning cities. Ape walkers climbed the sides of buildings like machines built for conquest. Refugees hid beneath subway platforms while red scanning lights moved through the dark. A radio broadcast crackled over images of people boarding buses, soldiers closing gates, and families running through smoke.
“We are still here. We are still fighting. This is our home, and we'll fight till our last breath. If you can hear this, know that you aren't alone. Find us in the Elysium. We'll give you weapons. Humanity must become one to win this war.”
A massive ape general stepped through the ruins of a government building. He wore black armor layered across his chest and shoulders, and his voice came through a translator fixed near his throat.
“Surrender and you might live. Run and you will die.”
He looked toward a crowd of captured humans.
“This war, your species can not win.”
The trailer cuts to Fred watching the broadcast on a cracked television inside a dark apartment. Mara stood behind him with tears in her eyes.
“You’re not a soldier.”
Fred kept staring at the screen.
“They don’t care what I was yesterday.”
The music rose harder.
Fred ran through an alley as energy blasts tore through brick behind him. Mara fired a stolen ape weapon from inside a wrecked bus. His sister crawled under a truck while a gorilla stepped over her, missing her by inches. A portal opened above a refugee convoy, and apes dropped straight into the road ahead.
A wounded soldier pushed a pistol into Fred’s hands inside a candlelit basement.
Fred stared at the weapon and shook his head.
“I’ve never killed anything.”
The soldier leaned closer, blood running down one side of his face.
“Then pray they give you time to learn.”
The trailer went quiet.
Fred stood alone in a ruined school hallway. Children’s drawings still covered the walls. Outside the windows, ape ships passed slowly over the city, blocking the sunlight.
His sister’s voice whispered from somewhere nearby.
“Fred?”
He turned, and fear broke across his face.
The music slammed back in.
Ape soldiers burst through the glass. Fred tackled one through a classroom door. Mara screamed his name. A human fighter pilot flew directly into a portal as missiles streaked past him. Fred stood in the rain, holding someone unseen in his arms as he screamed in rage and pain.
Another title card appeared.
WE WERE NOT READY.
The trailer cut into its final burst.
A portal collapsed above a city. A gorilla slammed Fred through a car windshield. Mara held his sister underwater in a flooded subway tunnel while ape drones scanned above. Human missiles vanished into a portal and exploded on the other side. Ape warships emerged over every continent.
Then everything went black.
For two seconds, only Fred’s breathing could be heard.
His voice came through the darkness.
“You came through the wrong door.”
The title appeared in massive stone letters.
PLANET OF THE APES
Beneath it, the release date appeared.
Coming this Christmas.
...
[Later That Night] [Jack’s Hotel Room]
Jack lay across the hotel bed in a fluffy moss green robe, one arm tucked behind his head while his phone glowed above his face. The air conditioner was on, and a half-empty bottle of orange juice sat on the nightstand beside a room-service plate he had barely touched. After a full week of fake blood, dust, long hours, and zombie choreography, he should’ve been asleep. Instead, he was scrolling through reactions to the Planet of the Apes.
The trailer had been online for less than six hours, and it was already everywhere. Entertainment sites were reposting it, fan accounts were cutting together screenshots, and half of Twitter seemed to be arguing over whether rebooting Planet of the Apes as an alien-invasion war movie was genius or a stupid idea.
Jack refreshed the YouTube page and watched the view count jump again.
“Okay,” he muttered, shifting deeper into the pillows. “That’s a stupid number already.”
The top comment had more likes than some indie films had viewers.
@CinemaWarrior: I thought this reboot was going to be another lazy remake, but the portal invasion idea actually looks cool. Apes with military tech falling out of the sky is way cooler than I expected.
Jack’s mouth twitched as he liked the comment from his private account.
He scrolled lower.
@OldSchoolSciFiFan: I grew up with the originals, and I’m still skeptical. Planet of the Apes was never just about action. It was about civilization, power, and humans realizing they aren’t special. I hope this movie remembers that.
Jack nodded slowly, because that one felt fair. He’d had the same concern when he took the role. The script had explosions, portals, and futuristic ape armies, but the best scenes were the quiet ones where Fred stopped feeling like a random survivor and started becoming someone the audience could believe in.
Another comment caught his eye.
@BlockbusterBrain: This looks expensive as hell, which is honestly what the old movies never had. People forget those films were limited by budget and effects. They had great ideas, but now they can actually show the scale.
Right below it, someone had already started arguing.
@ClassicApePurist: Budget limits gave the originals charm. Bigger explosions don’t automatically mean better storytelling, and I’m tired of studios thinking every reboot needs to become a war movie.
Jack winced, already imagining that exact argument spreading across every forum in existence. Bigger scale had always been the selling point, but scale could become a trap if the characters disappeared under the spectacle. He thought about Fred running through the grocery store with Mara and his sister, about the school hallway scene, about the line where Fred said they didn’t care what he had been yesterday.
He kept scrolling.
Most comments were positive, with some negative and skeptical opinions.
Reddit was worse.
The main movie thread had already passed thousands of comments, and the title alone made Jack rub his forehead.
The Planet of the Apes trailer is out, and apparently, the apes have discovered portal warfare.
The top reply was long enough to qualify as a college essay.
u/CelluloidHistorian: I’m cautiously optimistic. The old films worked because the ape society reflected human society back at us, which is why the makeup and budget limitations didn’t matter as much. This reboot seems to be changing the entire premise, but I don’t think that’s automatically bad. If the portals are used to make humanity experience sudden conquest from the other side, there might be something interesting happening underneath the spectacle.
Jack stared at that one for a moment, then whispered, “Thank you, stranger who actually understood the trailer.”
The next reply was less generous.
u/NoMoreRebootsPlease: This looks like every studio executive’s dream, take a smart old franchise, add blue portals, make everything explode, hire a hot young actor, and pretend it’s deep because someone says humanity in the trailer.
Jack’s smile faded into a tired little grimace.
“Okay,” he muttered, scrolling past it before his ego could get dramatic. “That one’s a little mean, but okay. Everyone got their own opinion and I can respect that.”
Another Reddit user had already pushed back.
u/ApeLawyer: People keep acting like the originals were small philosophical art films with no pulpy elements. They had big ideas, sure, but they were also studio sci-fi adventure movies made with the tools they had. If they’d had modern effects and a bigger budget, they absolutely would’ve gone larger in scale.
Someone replied under that within minutes.
u/ZiraDeservedBetter: Larger scale is fine, but the trailer needs to prove the apes have culture, not just guns. I don’t want two hours of humans shooting at CGI gorillas while Jack Preston looks emotionally sweaty.
Jack looked down at his robe, then at the dark hotel room, then back at the phone.
“Emotionally sweaty is still acting,” he said to nobody, though he was smiling again despite himself.
A few comments focused on him specifically, which made the scrolling feel more personal in a way he hadn’t fully prepared for.
u/FredFanAlready: Jack Preston screaming “RUN” sold me harder than the portals. He looks terrified in a way that makes the invasion feel real.
u/SeriousCinemaDude: I’m glad they’re making his character a civilian instead of some secret badass. If Fred turns into an action hero too fast, I’m going to be annoyed.
u/PrestonSkeptic: Jack is talented, but I’m not convinced he belongs in a franchise like this yet. Fault in Our Stars was great, but this is a completely different lane.
Jack read that last one twice, then locked the phone and let it rest against his chest for a few seconds.
The skeptical and negative comments didn’t crush him. He had learned over the last few years that praise could make him reckless if he swallowed too much of it, and criticism could make him defensive if he let it sit too long. The trick was figuring out which comments were noise and which ones were warnings disguised as complaints.
He put his phone on the nightstand and stretched his arms. "Gotta get some sleep."