Return to Jackson's Kong, King

I should have written this last night, but I couldn't see straight. It was a three-way blitz: a bit of pink eye, a lovely carbernet, and watching the rest of Peter Jackson's King Kong. At the end of the marathon, the pink eye was in recession, the bottle was almost empty, and Kong wasn't half bad.

It wasn't half good, either. Attend!

Kong is a story in three acts: New York (meet everyone) -- Skull Island (meet Kong, etc.) -- New York (Kong as stage act). In the 1933 original, each of these is taut and to the point. In the 1976 re-visit, much the same time schedule is adhered to. In the 2005 re-make, each act is stretched almost beyond endurance. With the exception of 2005's third act, Jackson should have left well enough alone.

I already ranted about Act I, so on to II and III....

After a seemingly endless sea voyage during which damn near nothing happens, we arrive at Skull Island, "the most dangerous place on earth." I laugh outloud (blame the wine) at the natives, especially the white folk in black face. Oh how 1930's! Jackson overuses slow motion and overuses some sort of long-shutter speed smear technique that he should forget exists. Really. In all things, moderation. All things.

But there's nothing of moderation in the entire Skull Island sequence. It plays over and over as though Jackson was desperately trying to out jurassic Jurassic Park. But in terms of more dinosaurs, more lethal dinosaurs, more people stomped, more people eaten...just plain more more more!, that was already done in The Lost World. And Kong '05 doesn't live up to either film. It's all very pretty and all very lush and lots of times it feels all very fake, as though it was all created on a computer.

Oh, wait.

That's the problem with too much. A film depends on a willing suspension of disbelief, and while that's a strange topic to discuss in terms of a film about a 30-foot ape, it still applies. The brontosaur stampede: Too much, too unbelievable that everyone wasn't squished. Ann being carried off by Kong; too much, too much to believe that the neck of the fair and lovely Naomi Watts wouldn't snap like a very dry, very brittle twig under Kong's (at this point) untender treatment. Fall down the ravine, please. Dinosaurs fall down the ravine, oh for heaven's sake! And fighting on the way down. Gag!

Look, I live for these sorts of films and it was all so far over the top that I started laughing again, and this time I won't blame the wine.

But....

There is a sequence where Ann is just being carried in Kong's hand and the camera stays with her while all around the world whirls by, not just by Kong's speed but because he's swinging his arm, jumping around, leaping from tree to tree (with his best girl by his side; is Kong a lumberjack?). That sequence is magic. There are others, like the sunset, but they get lost in the noise of the rest. Thank God that at the end of all this, they capture Kong.

Have you seen the film? Have you seen any of the Kong films? If no, then go see and come back later, because I'm giving it all away, such a heartless bastard am I.

Last warning: MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Very well, you have been warned. And now, Act III, Return to New York City:

I'm going to get my "complaints" for this part of the way right away. Much like the rest of the film, some things just go on far too long.

There, I'm done, because Act III redeems the film and makes it watchable and enjoyable. Jack Black's performance never gets good, but Naomi Watts takes over. Even what's his face, er (quick glance and IMDB), Adrien Brody turns out well. To explain what makes Act III so extraordinary and special, we have to return to 1933 and 1976.

In both of the priors versions, Kong in NYC is still a beast. He's shackled and chain, but he's still Kong, damnit, and he will kick your ass. In both, Ann willingly particpates in Kong's exhibition and humiliation. Ultimately he carries her off and she's with him when he faces his doom. In 1933, Kong dies, Ann gets reunited with her lover, the first mate, and all's as well as it's ever going to be.

In 1976, Kong dies but Ann tries to wave off the attacking helicopters, to save Kong. She fails, Kong dies, and the last scene is her with the body, surrounded by the press she's always sought, and her lover drifting away into the crowd, abandoning her.

Kong '05 rejects almost all of this, to its credit and ultimate success. When you see Kong on stage he is a whipped puppy, a shadow of his former self, less than a shell. He is passive to the point of being pitiful. When "Ann" appears on stage, he brightens up, only to discover that this "Ann" is an actress, not his Ann. His Ann has refused to participate in Kong's humiliation and wants nothing to do with the extravaganza.

(Props to that extravaganza, too. It's a stage recreation of the 1933 Skull Island ceremony, complete with Max Steiner's music. Geek heaven!)

This fake, plus a few flash bulbs, pisses Kong off and he goes off on a tear, just like in the prior films. What is different is that he doesn't go searching for Ann, she finds him. The beast is soothed, he gathers up his girlfriend, and they go for a stroll in the park. I am not kicking.

The ice "skating" scene is breathtaking and beautiful. You know it can't last, here comes the Army and all, but for a few shining minutes Jackson's Kong ceases to be a movie. It rises to the level of beauty and is damn-near art (though I hate that term, "art", and wouldn't curse this part of the film by calling it "art").

The attack and death of Kong go on too long, but the only other thing that ruins the third act is Jack Black's flat and lifeless recitation of the closing line, "Twas beauty that killed the beast." Ugh.

In sum, Kong '05 has moments, most of which are during the final act. I still prefer the original 1933, and look forward to adding the trashy but strangely watchable 1976 version to my Kong collection. If nothing else, I'll be watching Act III 2005 several times.