King Kong

I don't care what anybody says. I don't care how I'm supposed to feel about this movie. I don't hate it. To be honest, I kind of love it a little. Maybe if I'd been born in the 50's or 60's, and grown up loving the original, then gotten all excited about a remake, only to have my hopes dashed by a mediocre product, I'd loathe this like everyone else does. But I was born in '76. By the time I got around to being able to actually comprehend movies, this was already on T.V. every Saturday afternoon. For me, there have always been two King Kongs. Yes, the black and white ape is more believable, and scarier looking, and more lovable, and inarguably the star of a better movie. But when you're 5 years old, a man in a monkey suit is just as realistic as a stop motion model, because suspension of disbelief is not just easy for you, it's a way of life. So go ahead, hate this movie if you want. To me, it's an old friend, and I won't abandon it.

I never got to see this when I was a kid. Finally got around to watching at the age of 59. Really enjoyed it. Not a great movie, but fun to watch. I would certainly enjoy watching it again. I was surprised by the subtle humor and the acting was not bad. Jessica Lange is beautiful and the film itself is beautiful to watch. Kong's facial expressions were great! Sad to see the World Trade Center had such a prominent presence in the film. But who ever would've known what the future held in 1976.

"King Kong" was one of my all-time favorite movies when I was a teenager. It was the big 'event' movie of 1976 and showed on two screens in most multiplexes. It might have been the first movie to get that treatment. With a production cost of $24 million it was the most expensive movie ever made at that time.

Promotional material offered for sale dwarfed anything that had been done in that area before. A fast-food joint offered King Kong collectible glasses (I still have a set). And you could find posters, T-shirts and a 'Making Of King Kong' book.

I very much enjoyed 'King Kong' as a 17-year-old high school senior, but not so much later as an adult. The romance between Dwan and Jack seemed contrived once I got older. Other aspects of the film struck me as just dumb. Like the ship's radar being able to pick up Kong when he was walking around the island. Or the SUNNY aerial shot of the people walking on the allegedly fog-shrouded island. Or Jack's theory that the fog was produced not by a huge supply of crude oil near the surface, but by 'animal respiration.' As if King Kong's breathing caused the fog bank. Give me a break!

Yet there's something about movies one enjoyed as a youth that makes them special for the rest of one's life, no matter how bad they really are.

But 'King Kong' had it's good points, too. First of all, it was funny. Charles Grodin's portrayal of the greedy, desperate oil company executive is scenery-chewing at its best. For years after, I watched in vain for Grodin to play a similar character, but everything else he has done is nothing like his work in 'King Kong.' (Nothing as good either, I might add.)

Speaking of singular performances, you won't recognize René Auberjonois if your frame of reference is his work on 'Benson' and 'Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.' The voice he uses in 'King Kong' is nothing like the gravely voice we're used to hearing.

Jeff Bridges is perfect in the role of Jack Prescott. His long hair is a nice touch, although it probably turned off some of the older people in the theater. Jeff has a way with a sarcastic line that few actors can equal.

Jessica Lange comes off worse than any other actor in the film. Not because of her performance, which is fine, but because her character is an airhead who is only there to be protected (and rescued when that doesn't work) from Kong. The fact that her costumes were chosen for their ability to showcase her body and that her breasts are briefly visible when Kong undresses her has got to make the actress cringe nowadays when she thinks about this movie.

I'll close by noting that John Barry's score of 'King Kong' was terrific. Twenty-six years after the movie debuted and I can still remember the title tune.

In an era when many hollywood blockbusters are criticised for an over-reliance on sophisticated special effects to the detriment of everything else, this poorly remembered remake stands as a cautionary example of what can happen when a basically decent film gets let down by low-tech back up.

Producer Dino De Laurentis both cheated and deceived his audience here; selling the film on the hype of a state of the art full-size hydraulic ape that would re-define the effects landscape. Instead, what we got was the tired old fallback of the man in a monkey suit waddling bow-legged around some highly unconvincing sets.

Its such a shame because this film actually has a lot going for it. The screenplay is sprightly, good-humoured and faithful to the original while updating it with some then topical issues like fuel crises, feminism and even pornography. The makers also have a whale of a time with endless phallic imagery and self-referential quips more common to movies of the 90s than 70s.

The characters are far more quirky and idiosynchratic than you normally get in this sort of fare; a hippie academic, a star-struck, dipsy blonde and a buttoned-up corporate shark. Lange has gone on to become one of the most honoured and respected actresses of her generation, yet her career almost died right here. She was actually so good at playing the shallow, D-list airhead that critics and public alike thought it a reflection of her real self and dismissed her out of hand. Yet looking at her performance in hindsight she just oozes skill and star quality.

The film hardly puts a foot wrong until Kong appears. The production is smooth, the photography impressive, the locations superb and the story and characters engaging. But a fantasy adventure stands and falls by the suspension of disbelief achieved at the crucial moment. The first act of the 1933 Kong drags interminably until the King himself appears - then it soars. The reverse happens here; Rick Baker turns up in his ape suit, knocking down plastic trees and fighting a big rubber snake and the spell is shattered - in fact it was never even cast. The problem is also compounded by the screenplay's only serious error; making Kong sympathetic and pitiable far too early. The original Kong was always awesome and scary, even when he began to become sympathetic. Here he is just a bit too likeable, to quickly.

That the film remains just about watchable after this point is a testament to the performers and the strength of the story, but ultimately this effort has to go down as a missed opportunity to make a quality remake of a legendary film. Lets hope Peter Jackson doesn't make the same mistake next time round. You can't imagine him getting the film visually wrong, but it would be ironic indeed if he fell into the modern malaise of neglecting other key elements like story and character. Indeed, he could do worse than give the first hour of this movie a peek before he puts pen to paper.

After recently rewatching King Kong '76, I was able to reconnect with why this movie haunts me to this day. True, I do LOVE both versions, being a bit of a MONSTER JONES, but it's Kong '76 that pushes buttons for me that other monster movies don't. It's something that goes beyond awkwardly dated special effects and trespassing upon classic cinema. By God, it IS Rick Baker in that ape suit, lumbering along to John Barry's emotionally moving music. Kong is more of an oversized, misunderstood pet, than a marauding monster. He is loyal to the death to the one who fulfills his emotional need, Jessica Lange. We like her because she looks and sounds like a Marilyn Monroe clone. He likes her because she tries to talk to him and doesn't try to hurt him. Kong is not really the source of the fear, though he does some terrible things. What really scares you is the almost overwhelming power and destructive force of the movie's true monster: modern civilization. No matter how loud Kong roars, the machine guns of three helicopter gunships are louder. Kong transformed from classic movie monster to symbol for nature and the environment in this movie, and that didn't set well with critics. Lange's Dwan, Jeff Bridges' Prescott, me and anyone else who watches events unfold in this movie with an open mind is rooting for Kong, but ultimately there's that stomach turning feeling deep in our gut that reminds us that despite our best efforts and intentions, it's not to be. The Powers That Be have decried that Kong is too big to live, it's too much trouble to capture him, he's gone too far and has to be "put down." To view Kong '76 as a MONSTER MOVIE is something of a mistake by everyone concerned. True Kong is a monster, in that he is monstrous, but like Mary Shelley's "Creature" in Frankenstein, Kong is that freak that nobody wants and everybody fears: He is the truth. The authorities knew that Kong had no place in a bustling city like New York, but instead of trying to right the wrong of their own exploitive nature, they cut the Big Guy down in a hail of bullets and make him fall to his death. Kong's death in '76 was even more pointless than in '33. In '33 it was like trying to escape a wild Grizzly bear. In '76 it was like watching your beloved pet get run over. It's a helpless sadness that transcends tears, cuts deep and somehow stays with you awhile. I sometimes stop the video of Kong '76 just as the Big Fella turns to face the choppers. So I can remember him large and in charge, on top of one of the majestic World Trade towers and giving the proverbial finger to the modern civilization that screwed him over. I let myself wonder if, had I let the movie roll this time, would the helicopters have those damn nets and would they get him back to the island. But movie memories take over and I remember exactly what happens and know that it will happen again and again. King Kong '76 is a hopelessly sad movie even for a monster flick. But, for some bizarre reason, it's always a pleasure to let Kong make me sad for a little bit...and for me, not a guilty pleasure. Sorry, naysayers. Like Dwan and Jack Prescott, I'll stand behind Kong '76 to the bitter end.