King Kong
The legacy of the 1933 classic “King Kong” is not to be understated by current moviegoers. Not only was it the first real watershed of special effects wizardry- Willis O’Brien’s indelible creatures continue to cast a spell, pointing the way to a generation of FX-heavy action adventure films to come (“Alien,” “Jurassic Park,” and “Godzilla” are its’ successors), but it also inspired directors like Peter Jackson, who when he was 9 watched “Kong,” and knew he wanted to make movies. God bless that day- otherwise we may have missed out on such deviously dark treats like “Meet the Feebles,” “Dead Alive,” and “The Frighteners,” as well as such fully-formed works of dramatic fantasy like “Heavenly Creatures” and “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy. But all through this time, Jackson had a project brewing in the back of his mind that he was itching to film- a remake of the original “King Kong,” set in the period of the original movie, but with the modern-day effects and various ideas for expansion building up in Jackson’s Kiwi brain which he would put on paper with partner-fellow screenwriter Fran Walsh (and later, “Rings” co-writer Philippa Boyens). It was the project of his dreams, and we might have gotten it before “Rings” until a) “The Frighteners” tanked at the box-office and b) other big-budget, big-creature remakes “Godzilla” and “Mighty Joe Young” tanked as well, giving Universal- who has always been the home for Jackson’s pet project- enough reason to postpone it.
Good thing, too. Visual effects were not prepared for the vision Jackson had of his “Kong,” despite significant advances. And the fact that Jackson was almost forced into “Lord of the Rings” first is a blessing in that prior to that landmark undertaking, we may not have trusted in his ability to make a 187-minute adventure epic out of a 100-minute classic that’s still- deservedly- hailed as one of the greatest movies of all-time. But dream projects can be tricky business for directors- just ask Steven Spielberg, whose “Hook” was derailed by numerous happenings. Would the same fate beset Jackson?
No, but don’t think “Kong” didn’t come without a price. Namely, exhaustion on Jackson’s part- he was forced sometimes to recruit fellow directors to help him on-set (namely, Frank Darabont and Bryan Singer)- since he went from “Rings” straight into this movie. He plans on taking a much-deserved break after “Kong.” Just don’t take 10 years to come back to filmmaking a la James Cameron, Pete. (I wouldn’t worry about that- apart from the still looming prospect of “The Hobbit”- currently in limbo over complicated rights issues- Jackson has already purchased the rights to the best-seller “The Lovely Bones” (which sounds like another possible feat of “Heavenly Creatures”-like excellence).)
Credit Jackson, however, for never letting that exhaustion seep its way into what’s onscreen in “Kong.” Though the film could’ve used some trimming along the sides- no individual scenes, just some extraneous shots and effects (mostly the slow-motion camera during certain moments) along the way- and sometimes lacks the dramatic pow most of us were likely expecting after “Rings” (mainly due to some of the same hammy type of performance and dialogue we see in the 1933 original and the music, which I’ll discuss later), “Kong” is rip-roaring entertainment, an unabashed popcorn adventure that stays true to the original film in a lot of ways, deviates in a lot of others, and works in just about every way possible. That it doesn’t rate as high as a cinematic achievement as a whole as “Rings” did isn’t shocking- it’s not easy to follow-up history- nor should it deter you from watching the latest bit of movie magic from one of our most remarkable visionaries for yourself to see how humane fantasy should be done.
The story is nothing new to anyone whose seen the original film. In Depression-era New York, movie producer Carl Denham (Jack Black was deviously inspired casting- his expression is frightening sometimes in its’ wicked insinuations- as the gutless and heartless filmmaker) is having a hard time getting his new project off the ground. The moneymen hate what they’ve seen (they want to sell it off as stock footage); his leading lady has dropped out; his screenwriter- playwrite Jack Driscoll (Adrien Brody brings quiet character to the underdeveloped role)- has just turned in 15 pages when Carl needs a feature; and his ship- with a skeptical crew and hard-nosed captain- is set to sail. Fans of the original will notice some changes already; to hush those fears, they all work, and bring depth to an otherwise shallow story. As he walks down the streets of New York in search of a new lead actress he stumbles across Ann Darrow (Naomi Watts), whose vaudville theatre just closed down. He feeds her, and tells her that this is the role she was born to play. She’s intrigued, and before she can say no, they’re off to an uncharted island where Carl will shoot his picture. But what they encounter there- that’s where the big ape comes in- is more astounding that anything they ever imagined. Carl can’t get enough; the crew can’t set sail fast enough; and Jack can’t stand around helpless when Kong- a 25-foot ape the natives (scarier than their ’33 counterparts ever were) worship- is offered Ann as a sacrifice. It’s at that point when the movie really begins, and rarely stops for breath…
It’s also here where WETA Workshop- the visual effects wizards who were three-for-three in the Visual Effects Oscar race during their “Rings” run, and should be the front-runners again here- really start their magic, although they- with Jackson’s guidance and “Rings” cinematographer Andrew Lesnie’s rich eye- have already blown us away with their vivid, almost dreamlike recreation of 1930’s New York City. The effects aren’t always flawless, but given the crunch for time- the film was finished just a month prior- and the amount of effects needed, all is easily forgiven when you see what extraordinary images they bring to the screen. Has a place ever looked more forboding in modern cinema than Jackson’s Skull Island? Just wait until you see the inhabitants. There are the natives- gross racial stereotypes in 1933 (knowingly played up later in the film); bone-chillingly wicked and single-minded in 2005 when faced with the unwelcome visitors to their island (the first time Jackson pushes the limits of his PG-13 rating). And there are the creatures- Skull Island is overrun by prehistoric creatures that put our heroes in peril at every turn (you won’t take your eyes off the sequences involving a brontosaurus stampede, a battle with three V-Rexes and Kong, with Ann in the middle, and a hauntingly staged version of the original’s lost, legendary “spider pit” sequence (which Jackson and co. just recreated using the same effects techniques of the ’33 film for that film’s must-own DVD debut), which features one of James Newton Howard’s most curious and original touches in his score).
And then there’s Kong himself, a CG creation but with movements supplied by the great Andy Serkis, who did similar duty on the groundbreaking Gollum on “Lord of the Rings.” Like Gollum, Serkis’ Kong is a milestone is digital character effects. But the credit doesn’t belong just with WETA- although Kong looks utterly believable as a creature; there’s a reason Serkis is acknowledged so blatently for playing the role (he studied ape movements for a while to prep). WETA gives him life, but Serkis gives him his soul in a performance of remarkable depth. No creature has ever been more poignant on screen. The anger and furocity when he’s provoked- whether it’s by humans or dinosaurs trying to get their jaws into his woman. The playful way he toys with Ann- in an attempt to show his alpha male status- when she does her song and dance for him (literally), and he discovers the joys of an icy lake for the first time in Central Park (a scene most viewers dislike, but is endearing and moving in repeat viewings). The silent nobility of Kong overlooking the island and New York City- when he and Ann are atop the Empire State Building- at sunset (the former) and sunrise (the latter). And the quiet feeling in his face and body language as he is touched by Ann’s kindness and compassion. It’s a high-wire act few actors could pull off; through his artistry, Serkis makes Kong a modern successor to Charlie Chaplin.
Along those same lines, Watts’ Ann Darrow is the blind girl in “City Lights” to Kong’s not-so-little Tramp (you’ll get the reference if you’ve seen the film). Of course the character isn’t originally won over by Kong, she initially does a lot of the same screaming the original Ann Darrow (the late, great Fay Wray) did in the original film, but it isn’t long when this beauty is won over by the beast. Both the beast and us are won over immediately. From the start, Watts radiates a warm glow and emotional strength in her Ann, now a fully-developed character instead of just another pretty (and pretty frightened) face. But like Serkis, Watts (one of the best actresses working today) lets her body language do most of her talking, not out of necessity (she has the advantage of dialogue), but because she understands that in a movie like this, a picture can speak volumes louder than words. It’s most evident in the quiet moments that make the film, particularly in repeat viewings, an emotional powerhouse. Her dejection at having to even contemplate a job at a Burlesque before she meets Carl. Her unsettled look after the first run-in with the natives, and her first moments with Kong. The awe of the beauty she sees through Kong’s eyes in the forementioned moments on Skull Island and New York. The melancholy we see as she prepares to go onstage the night of Kong’s unveiling in New York. And the heartbreak as she not only watches Kong be captured on the Island but killed atop the Empire State Building. (Her cries of “No!” during both scenes pierce the heart.) This isn’t your grandfather’s Ann Darrow. She’s a modern-day incarnation in place of the original, and only an actress like Watts could bring her to such vivacious life. The one scene that points to this is one of the most inspired touches of the film. It’s the moment when Ann realizes Kong’s game, and that the way to get to this beast is to do a little dance for him, and make him laugh. It’s a rare bit of comedic acting from the skilled dramatic actress (who established her genre cred in the “Ring” horror films along with her critical acclaim for films like “21 Grams” and “Mulholland Dr.”) that makes us fall as hard for the character as the ape, and Jack for that matter, does. It’s one of the greatest of all performances in an effects-heavy genre movie. No other actress could convey greater feeling, but it’s as much a tribute to the film’s exceptional writers as it is to Watts; Fay Wray didn’t have a character this rich back in ’33. Like Watts, she deserved to.
If Watts and Serkis carry the emotional weight onscreen, James Newton Howard’s score is supposed to enrich it offscreen. Originally, as movie geeks will know, “Kong’s” score was to be composed by Jackson’s Oscar-winning “Lord of the Rings” composer Howard Shore. At the ninth hour, though, the dreaded “creative differences” intervened and Shore, who actually appears onscreen as the orchestra conductor at the end (it’s Max Steiner’s music from the original film, though, not Newton Howard’s), was replaced by Newton Howard, a skilled composer whose diverse resume includes “The Fugitive,” “Dave,” “Waterworld,” “My Best Friend’s Wedding,” “Batman Begins” (with Hans Zimmer), and the scores for M. Night Shyamalan’s films from “The Sixth Sense” on. As talented as Howard is, one still longs to hear what Shore came up with (there’s just no replacement for an Oscar-winner- Newton Howard has just been nominated five times)…or at least that’s how I felt after my first time seeing it. I still feel the use of choir and solo vocals is an over-familiar modern tactic and could have been replaced with simple orchestral instruments (you know, for a more traditional orchestration a la the Steiner score), but Howard’s musical gifts shine through in repeat listens. At least four themes- for Ann, Skull Island, Kong, and Ann and Kong’s bond- can be heard when listened to closely. The V-Rex sequence, one of the best scenes of its’ kind, is scored with muscular energy, as is the sequence atop the Empire State Building. The unique beauty of Ann and Kong’s bond is lyrically forged through different settings of their theme (the forementioned Central Park sequence is my favorite example). Newton Howard’s history with comedies serves him well during the film’s lighter moments (especially when Ann is doing her act for Kong). And though I wish he hasn’t used the choir, his music during Kong’s capture and death high above New York packs an emotional wallop. Pretty damn good for a score written in less than two months, even if it doesn’t rate as his best work (hear “Signs,” “The Village,” and “The Fugitive” for that level).
Will Peter Jackson’s “King Kong” inspire someone to pursue filmmaking- specifically, this type of filmmaking- the way the 1933 film inspired him? Probably not. (“Lord of the Rings” is more likely to do that.) But it feels like something just as important in this day and age. It feels inspired; that kind of experience is few and far between when you aren’t watching the modern masters (see Spielberg, Tarantino, Pixar, top-flight Burton, Proyas, Jonze, Raimi, Soderbergh, and Scorsese). With “Kong,” Jackson solidifies his status with that elite group.
