Better Than the Original? You Bet!

It’s almost axiomatic that in films, a remake is not as good as the original. This of course doesn’t hold where the original is from the silent era … the newer “Ben Hur” being better than the older, the newer “Ten Commandments” better than the older, and so on. We may argue cases such as “High Society” vs. the older “Philadelphia Story”. However, the fact that the newest “King Kong” is better than its predecessors seems carved in stone.

Aside from a 1962 Hindi version and a number of Kongish knock-offs under different titles, the aforementioned predecessors are a 1976 reworking and the 1933 original. We may dismiss the feeble former out of hand. The 1933 film has long been considered a classic. It still is, certainly, as a film with striking originality that managed to challenge and defeat the technical limitations that might have hobbled it.

But fair is fair. The new “King Kong” is, by and large, the film the 1933 production team would have made if they had had the technical wherewithal (and if 1933 audiences would have sat still for a 3-hour film). What we have here is a genuine remake rather than an attempt to drag the original story into some silly left field never envisioned by the first film – trading on the famous older name in order to give us something actually very different.

Fair still being fair, we need to observe something. Without the technical wonders we see on the screen, the Kong story would a lot less exciting. However, those wonders, in nature, are virtually impossible. Don’t let this get in the way of a good story, but let’s consider a few things in that regard.

First, large animals on small land masses (such as islands) breed downward in size. There are many examples, but typical are the pygmy dinosaurs that once ruled Madagascar. On Skull Island, we are supposed to believe that not only did large dinosaurs stay large, but apes grew to preternaturally enormous size not seen in Africa. Well, movies are a dreamland you pay to enter.

Second, the gigantic insects are even more improbable. The main controlling factor in insect size is the amount of oxygen in the atmosphere (owing to their inefficient gill-like breathing apparatus). Even in the oxygen-rich Carboniferous age, although some dragonflies had 18-inch wingspans, insects were still smaller than those investing Skull Island.

Third, Kong sustained a number of Tyrannosaur (or near-Tyrannosaur) bites on his extremities without apparent damage. This, in spite of the fact that his dinosaur enemies had bite compressions higher than the average steam shovel.

Fourth, despite the fact that the aforementioned Tyrannosaurs – as well as various apatasaurs (or near it) – were tossed and tumbled like rag dolls without the aforementioned apparent damage. In real life, a Tyrannosaurus Rex had but to trip and fall in order to break half the bones in his body (or at least one of his legs).

Fifth, the raptors had no feathers. Raptors – particularly Velociraptor – were well-feathered creatures.

Sixth, 65 million years of additional evolution have been ignored here. Evolutionary equilibrium may be long-lasting but not so long as that, and not in restricted physical environments. The aforementioned raptors would certainly continued to evolve toward something like birds, considering the impetus toward that development already shown. The lack of significant change in the island’s carnivores and herbivores doesn’t wash in nature. The bats certainly exhibited a good bit of change, so why not the other species?

Seventh, there is a marked tendency for predators already in possession of significant prey to abandon it in favor of tid-bits. The lion does not give up its wildebeest feast in order to pursue a rabbit.

Finally, we are bound to rate as extremely improbable the survival on a remote island of creatures whose kind were everywhere else exterminated by a cosmic disaster. Perhaps, we may surmise, their remoteness from the epicenter of the event mitigated in their favor. However, then there is the question of why the island didn’t, in 65,000,000 years, erode back into the sea.

OK, reality check notwithstanding, “King Kong” is a rattling good fantasy – especially in this version. The story of the 1933 and 2005 versions are essentially the same: a film producer (Carl Denham), with his stars and crew, charters a ship to go to an uncharted “Skull Island”. There he plans to shoot a jungle epic. Arriving at the island, they discover a mysterious embattled fortress of the islands aboriginal inhabitants. The primitives kidnap the blonde star of the film (Ann Darrow), with the purpose of sacrificing her. The object of the sacrificial gesture turns out to be Kong, a gigantic, monstrous ape. He carries her off and they mount a rescue expedition. In the process of this, they encounter living examples of Cretaceous life. Kong is obliged by circumstances to fight and kill a Tyrannosaur (or Tyrannosaurs). He becomes obsessed with Ann. Eventually she is rescued and Kong is captured. The ape is put into a shameful exhibit in New York. Frightened (primarily by flashbulbs), breaks his bonds, and escapes. He retrieves Ann and is driven by military ordnance to climb the Empire State Building. There he’s shot badly, despite Ann’s hand-signalled attempts to get the aerial attacks called off, and falls to his death.

The 2005 version differs from the 1933 version in some significant, but not fundamental, respects. The spectacular special effects have already been mentioned. These are state of the art and must have cost the producers a bundle. The good news is that they were worth it. This is particularly true of Kong himself, a very realistic and sophisticated realization of a great ape. Unlike many effects spectaculars, most of the effects serve the story. The exception is probably the extended bit with the giant insects. This feels a lot like a gratuitous add-on. Except for emphasizing the gruesome nature of predatory life on Skull Island … a point otherwise made ad nauseum … this scene serves no real purpose and is the one major weakness in the new production.

The major difference is that involving the relationship between Kong and his blonde. In 1933 Kong is certainly infatuated with Fay Wray. She, in turn, seems mostly to have pitied him as a poor, dumb exploited brute. When the 1933 Carl Denham says, at the end, that “it wasn’t the aeroplanes” that killed Kong, but “twas Beauty killed the beast” … his comment strikes home in the sense that Kong’s infatuation led to his putting himself into harm’s way.

The 2005 Denham says the same ultimate line, although of course he says “airplanes” rather than “aeroplanes”. It’s important that this line be repeated in that way, since in 2005 it’s even more central to what happens in the film. Any number of reviewers have a good deal of fun panning this line in both films, because, wall, of course it was the planes – and other expressions of complete failure to understand what’s happened here.

The relationship between Ann and ape is important in 1933, but central in 2005 – in a way that was impossible even to suggest in the uptight 㣂s. The Ann/ape relationship quickly develops into something with so many psycho-sexual subcontexts it’s embarrassing. Or would be in the last century. That a human woman and an ape many times her size could fall in love has, in 73 years, evolved from unthinkable to psychologically interesting.

The way in which this relationship happens is gradual and subtle – as it must be between 2 beings whose means of communication are so limited. In the end, Kong isn’t merely infatuated with perhaps a new toy, he is genuinely loving toward her. Her feelings are clearly as protective toward him as his are toward her. It’s this dynamic that causes Kong to abandon sensible self-defense in favor of open and reckless defense of what he perceives as a threat to Ann. This decision makes his death inevitable.

The cast of “King Kong” are mostly involved in one-note minor roles, and put forth an effective team effort. Aside from Kong himself, there are 3, perhaps 4, important roles. Carl Denham, the film producer, is played by Jack Black. Perhaps his best line (beyond “beauty killed the beast”) would probably his desire to get Fay (Wray) to play the film he plans to make about Kong. It’s a delight to watch Black channel Orson Welles, giving his performance a good deal of depth and slimy gravitas. He’s marvelous as the moviemaker who’s determined to get the movie made (or, later, to capture and exhibit Kong) despite all the death and disaster going on around him.

Naomi Watts plays Ann Darrow with considerable flair and intelligence. It’s a delight to watch her work with Kong, taking charge with the object of making him like her and succeeding with him beyond her intent and with herself beyond her desire. At the end of the film, she strikes a wonderful balance between love and pity.

We need also to mention Adrien Brody and Kyle Chandler. The latter plays the prospective Kong-film’s leading man (Bruce Baxter), a guy who plays a hero without actually being one. This is a clichetic approach that the director (Peter Jackson) must have wanted, despite its being jarringly simplistic in a film that has a lot of nuance in it. The former plays Jack Driscoll, a playwright who is also the film’s script writer. It’s important to note that he’s less handsome but more good-looking than Bruce Baxter. He proves to be the actual hero, and in the end he gets the girl – apparently not minding that he came in second to Kong, or perhaps not really noticing.

Kong’s length and eye-popping effects make it a tremendous theatrical experience. This is one film I’m constrained to admit just won’t have the same effect on DVD. You need to experience it on the silver screen. “King Kong” is not a case (as some reviewers claim) of more being less, but of more actually being way more.