(Contains spoilers. But you already know this movie, right?)

King Kong poster

From the earliest preproduction meetings to the final polish on the deluxe DVD sets, Peter Jackson spent nearly a decade working on The Lord of The Rings. Jackson showed the kind of passion and dedication that I can barely imagine and could scarcely dream of matching. The result of his toil is one of the greatest spectacles in cinema history: a ten hour epic that in nearly every way is larger than anything before it.

Jackson was inspired to film by a Saturday afternoon viewing of the 1933 version of King Kong. He sat in his seat a boy in love with movies, captivated by that unforgettable image of Kong on the Empire State Building. Kong is the movie that made Jackson a filmmaker.

Peter Jackson

Throughout his entire career he's wanted to remake Kong. The dreadful 1976 remake heavy on their minds, the men who hold the purse strings have never allowed his plans to gain much traction. But The Lord of The Rings, with it's billion dollar domestic box office, changed all that. Jackson was basically given a blank check for his next project, whatever that project might be. I imagine this is the point where he said, "So let's talk about my Kong idea…"

Victorian man of arts John Ruskin once said, "When love and skill work together, expect a masterpiece." So it is with great expectations that I went to the theater to see Jackson's turbocharged version of his boyhood favorite. I'm very pleased to say that my expectations were mostly met, and sometimes even exceeded.

1933 Manhattan

Kong opens in a lushly rendered depression-era Manhattan as we're introduced to our cast of characters. The two most important are Carl Denham (Jack Black) and Ann Darrow (Naomi Watts).

Denham is a misunderstood, oddball filmmaker who's a heartbeat away from losing his financial backing and having his latest picture scuttled. A glass at the door gives him a few steps head start as he races to flee the city with his movie crew before the rug can be yanked out from under him. At this moment, the least opportune, he learns that his leading lady has withdrawn from the project.

This is a point where I was bluntly reminded of the blessing/curse of being the only guy in the theater to catch a subtle joke. Denham and his assistant Preston (Colin Hanks) are discussing whom they might land for the female lead at the last minute. As his fifth or sixth choice, Denham suggests "Fay?" Preston counters that "she's already filming something for RKO." Denham growls and mutters "Cooper!" This exchange was a quiet nod to the original King Kong, and RKO film starring Fay Wray and directed by Merian Cooper.

I'm the only guy in the theater who thought that simple homage was funny. Which is always a curious feeling. At first I feel brilliant, because I'm in on a joke that no one else is. And then I feel retarded, because I'm the only one laughing. But anyway. Back to the movie.

Fay Wray being unavailable, Denham instead discovers Darrow, a recently unemployed, completely broke, and very hungry vaudevillian. After a little gentle convincing on Denham's part, Darrow is on board, both the project and the ship. Denham has plans to shoot the remainder of his movie on the mysterious Skull Island, for which they are about to set sail.

It's here that the movie simultaneously bogs down and picks up steam. We all know what waits on Skull Island, and it feels like Jackson's teasing us with it as he throws at us 40 minutes of supporting character development. The whole movie revolves around three characters, yet a significant part of the first hour is devoted to everyone else. We get a feel for the ship's captain, the first mate, the cook, the boy who went from stowaway to crew member, etc., etc. It's not such a bad time watching all of this, but it is frustrating to later learn that these rich characters will be reduced to little more than props when the action sequences begin.

Perhaps most frustrating of all is the completely superfluous Jack Driscoll (Adrian Brody), the reluctant screenwriter for Denham's picture. The Driscoll character is a new addition to the Kong story. Driscoll becomes a love interest for Darrow. But why bother? I don't see how a love interest really adds anything to the movie.

The most satisfying of the shipboard scenes was another brilliant/retard moment. Billy, the stowaway turned crewman, spends his free moments reading Conrad's "Heart of Darkness." I'm the only one who found this funny. For those unfamiliar, Heart of Darkness is a tale of human savagery in the wilds of Africa. The movie Apocalypse Now is a retelling of Heart of Darkness.

Billy's choice of reading material would be less funny and more foreboding if we didn't already know what awaits the hapless crew on Skull Island.

Black's Denham

After around an hour of run time our filmmakers-cum-adventurers finally arrive at the island, and it's here that the movie begins in earnest. This is also the point where I found my first disappointment.

The original Kong is occasionally decried as racist for the inherent symbolism of the great ape as an African aggressor. Even today slurs comparing Africans to apes or monkeys abound. Accidental or otherwise, the image of a black aggressor lusting after a white woman saturates the original film. I was quite pleased to learn that Kong has been recast in a very different light, which I'll talk about in a moment.

Unfortunately, the stereotype of black savagery is alive and well in a different form. The natives of Skull Island are black. And I don't mean they're African. Africans are brown. The islanders are all painted black. Black as coal. Black as pitch. Black as night. And they're absolutely terrifying.

When the ship departs New York, the stated destination is Singapore. Of course they never intend to arrive in Singapore and there's very little mention of what direction they're actually heading. A few anecdotal tidbits lead us to assume that Skull Island is located somewhere in "the south seas," presumably the south Pacific or southern Indian Ocean. This is a region of the world where you would normally find peoples with lighter skin tones than the average African. And yet the Skull Islanders are noticeably darker than the darkest Africans. I can't think of a single reason for this other than evoking in the viewer a visceral fear. Throughout history, humans have associated the darkest of things with evil.

And that's exactly how Jackson's islanders are portrayed. They are savage, terrifying black people. How disappointing. But the islanders exist only to further the plot. Their sole purpose is to get Darrow into Kong's hands, a task they accomplish as well as you'd expect. The introduction of Kong begins nearly an hour of non-stop, hang on to your popcorn action. And Jackson is brilliant with action scenes.

Dinosaur showdown

Skull Island is quickly revealed as a land that time forgot, a place packed with creatures that have existed nowhere else for millions of years. There are mosquitoes the size of small house cats, bats with seven-foot wingspans, and in several sequences that put Spielberg's Jurassic Park to shame, dinosaurs a-plenty. Jackson knows his effects and once he starts, he never stops dazzling us with them.

And then of course there's Kong himself. In the same manner as his performance as Gollum in Lord of The Rings, Andy Serkis plays Kong and is transformed into a thirty-foot ape through the magic of computer graphics. Supposedly Serkis spent a significant amount of time studying the movements and mannerisms of live apes in preparation for his role. All that homework really paid off because Kong is amazing. It is of course impossible to tell where Serkis ends and the computers begin, but the combined effect is extraordinary. Serkis' Kong is a wonder. Kong takes us through a range of emotions, beginning with terror and ending with sympathy.

Jackson and Serkis have recast Kong not as a monster but as a thinking, feeling being. Kong is the real star of this show, and not only for the dazzling effects. In the new film we see Kong as a genuinely likable character. The ferocious beast is quickly replaced by a mere animal, one capable of surprisingly human behavior and emotion. It's Kong's emotions that are truly the heart of this movie.

Jackson's movie is a love story, albeit a very unusual one. Kong, although wonderfully expressive, is incapable of verbalizing his emotions in clearly defined terms, and Darrow does not verbalize her emotions. So we are left to assume what we wish about them. It's clear however that there's real tenderness and a tremendous amount of affection between them.

Suddenly the inclusion of Driscoll makes a bit more sense. Kong, Darrow and Driscoll are meant to be a love triangle. The triangle ends a bit lopsided however, because the budding romance between Darrow and Driscoll is never as interesting or as fully developed as the relationship between Kong and Darrow. If nothing else, Driscoll's love for Darrow serves to drive the plot by pushing the adventurers towards Darrow's rescue and Kong's eventual capture.

After Kong's capture comes a blank spot in the narrative. We skip ahead by several weeks or months, jumping from Kong succumbing to his captors to his debut on Broadway. I'm disappointed that there wasn't a single frame devoted to the voyage home or the logistical problems of getting a thirty-foot beast into Manhattan. I imagine getting Kong through customs would have made for an entertaining scene. But alas, we're left to imagine this. Perhaps there's a Lord of The Rings-style extended DVD in our future.

By hook or by crook, Kong does eventually arrive in Manhattan. We see him again as a broken husk of his former self. Kong is a king no longer. Denham makes a grave mistake by building his exhibition around a reenactment of the island sacrifice that originally put Darrow into Kong's hands. Kong flips out. Kong goes on a rampage. The action scenes where Kong tears apart the city looking for Darrow are both thrilling and compelling. We understand exactly Kong's motivation and we can't help but empathize with him. I'll never forget my first love either.

Star crossed lovers

Kong's inevitable reunion with Darrow is sweet, touching and strangely romantic. It's evident that the filmmaker intends us to think romance, especially during the "ice skating" scene where Kong first encounters a frozen pond in one of the city's parks. This scene is probably the sole reason the latter part of the movie is set in winter. But of course the sweet romance cannot last and is eventually interrupted by the military's first organized response to Kong.

Darrow in hand, Kong flees. We all know where he goes. The iconic images of Kong on the Empire State Building are sweeping and bold, if a bit technically inaccurate. Kong appears on top of the world. The symbolism of Kong towering over the city is undeniable. But they truly do tower over the city.

Seventy years after it's construction, the Empire State Building is still an imposing part of the Manhattan skyline. But it's not the only skyscraper in the city, and it wasn't the only skyscraper in the 1930s either. I can understand not being able to see the Woolworth Building or 40 Wall Street (I don't care who owns it, I refuse to call it by that other name.) Those buildings are far to the south in Lower Manhattan.

Jackson's Manhattan

Modern Manhattan, very
large panoramic image here

But what about the 1050-foot Chrysler Building? Chrysler was completed before Empire State. Both feature prominently in the Midtown area, and in fact are separated by only a few blocks. Yet all of the sweeping views of Kong atop the Empire State omit its smaller neighbor. In all honesty I'm lost without Central Park as a visual reference, so it's entirely possible that all the views are from east to west, which makes it possible that the Chrysler Building is simply "out of frame." I understand why Jackson made this decision, but my opinion is that he lost as much as he gained. I was actively looking for the landmarks I recognize. Not being able to find any made Jackson's meticulously constructed city feel a little less like 1933 Manhattan and a little more like a fantasy construct.

Everyone knows how that fantasy construct draws to a close, right? Jackson robs his film of emotional punch by stretching out the ending until it's a little thin. We know Kong is going to get his ass kicked by the biplane machine guns. We all know exactly how this ends. But Jackson makes it a little too long. Even people who don't know the story (I imagine there are a few somewhere) can see not only where we're headed, but also exactly how we're going to get there. Once Kong makes it to the top of the building, there are no surprises left. But Jackson tries to drag out the suspense anyway. He mostly ends up failing, as I was bored enough with the ending to study the skyline and focus on James Howard's score, which by the way was excellent, but a little overwrought.

The length of the obvious ending pushes me toward an uncomfortable comparison. The ending feels like Titanic. It's lean on substance and is intended to tug heavily at our heartstrings. The effect of this overly emotional ending is that I cast a backwards glance on the whole film, as I look for other examples of too obvious manipulation without narrative. Fortunately there are few others to be found.

In the end, Kong stands as a clever romance and a visually sumptuous period piece with remarkable creature effects and top notch acting. Watts and Brody are excellent, Serkis continues to redefine acting in the new century, and Black (unusually) is a perfect balance of restraint and lunacy. There are just a few foibles holding the movie back. Kong could have been Great. But in the end, it's only great.