Pelt, Banana
The man in the monkey suit and my quest for meaning
By Taylor Holland, Fri., Aug. 5, 2005

When I was 3 years old, a pack of bloodthirsty equestrian apes with terse lips, darting eyes, and haircuts like Rhoda's mother swung into my living room, barking for the extermination of the human race.
Soon after, the nightmares started.
Then, one sweaty morning it was explained to me that the Planet of the Apes didn't actually exist, and that Dr. Zaius was merely a man in a monkey suit. I slept that night, but my fascination with the man in the monkey suit was only beginning.
One particularly stoney night in my mid-20s, on a directive from the girlfriend to get "something funny," I went to I Video and rented a new-to-VHS children's movie called Born to Be Wild, about a teenage boy who makes nice with a captive gorilla, breaks her out of a research facility, and takes a joyride up the Pacific Coast Highway in a stolen cargo van with his pelted pal riding shotgun.

Zany misadventures ensue. Cardboard box on the head. Upside-down sunglasses. Banana in the ear. That silly gorilla just doesn't get it. At one point, "Katie" decides to take a dip in the surf, starts drowning, and our tweener hero pulls the sopping wet, unconscious 400-pound hairpiece onto the beach, gives it CPR, and saves its life.
No monkey business.
Except that a few scenes later, boy and she-beast lay down for a "nap" in the back of the van. Here we see them holding hands, lost in an amorous cross-species gaze.
Boy: Does she know that I'm falling in love with her? ...
I laughed until I choked. For months afterward, I imagined the guy who played the female gorilla taking serious direction:

More inquisitive looks. Tilt the head ... that's it! When he says, "Look out, Katie!" can you flap your arms even MORE frantically?
The actor in these simian scenes was in fact Leif Tilden, one of many who have cut a path to Hollywood through the celluloid jungle. (Others making simian career choices include living legend Rick Baker, the man behind Planet of the Apes, Schlock, and Greystoke; Hungarian Janos Prohaska, who aped in everything from Escape From the Planet of the Apes to Bikini Beach; and John Alexander of Congo and the Mighty Joe Young remake.)
Based on the simple fact that I'd never laughed so hard, I made it my mission to see every monkey-suit movie that came out.
I took a date to see Buddy, featuring (you guessed it) Leif Tilden as Buddy. The cherry scene in this film features Buddy dressing for dinner in a bow tie, sitting down at the supper table, and smashing his chair to a million pieces beneath his gargantuan mountain-gorilla ass, Buster Keaton style. That gorilla weighs too damn much to be living in a Victorian mansion! The date ended.
I saw Ed alone. This one casts a female gymnast inside a chimp suit, playing baseball (see "Questions for Norman Tempia, Chimp-Suit Maker," facing page). It was here, amid my solitary guffaws and a smattering of confused Little Leaguers, that I started asking myself not only why the simian obsession, but why so incredibly funny?
Then I checked out Every Which Way but Loose. Man, real monkeys are not funny. It's like watching a toddler in the bubble toy at the McDonaldland playground.
What is funny is watching some dude trying to make like a mountain gorilla when he's covered in dog hair and rubber and not even coming close to pulling it off.
National Gorilla Suit Day is January 31st