The original rise of the apes is the product of French science fiction writer Pierre Boulles (1963). But Apes is a US spin-off with a typical American "superhero" twist: Caesar got his super-ape intelligence from a drug called ALZ-112. Sun, in contrast, is not a leader but a principle: a force of nature. He is a Taoist immortal, a Buddhist deity born of a celestial rock, carrying a magical golden-hooped rod that is said to weigh 8 tons. A bit inane, he is rebellious and impatient. He fell off the 33th floor of heaven, unharmed, because he is the product of 2,000 years of advanced Chinese mythology.
While for Caesar quick death lurks behind every corner - wild beasts, traitors, stupid decision-makings and, well, environmental threats such as marauding humans - Sun is technically invincible. One day Sun got so bored from causing tidal waves and cloning himself a thousand times that he crawled down into hell and had his name removed from the Book of Death.
Caesar is naked and vulnerable. He functions as the revolutionary leader in post-apocalyptical San Francisco, a story that is bound to provoke social commentary on race, equality and war. The fantasy world of Sun, however, is far remote from reality, inhabited by puffer fish monsters, flying monks and golems that look a lot like Sponge Bob from the Nickelodeon channel.
In the tradition of propagating the US as the chronologist of world history, Hollywood has dome two crucial things for Apes: visualizing the end of humans and the rise of a competitor, starting point California in the US; and thinking hard about when and how letting the main cast die - for the optimal suffering of global audiences. The result is perfect tragedy.
Caesar is a universal leader, regardless of origin; he is willing to lead his species and shape the world, and subjugate it, if need be. He points to the future. Sun guards his people and their traditions. He looks back at their glorious past.
The author is a German writer, linguist and cultural critic.