Hostel (2005)

Horror movies are a wacky breed. How many other movie genres can offer a wide range of sub-genres? There's zombies, cannibal rednecks, masked serial murderers, and all forms of the supernatural. However, there has been a recent trend heading towards darker, more misanthropic horror stories. With flicks like Rob Zombie's House of 1000 Corpses and The Devil's Rejects, Alexandre Aja's High Tension and The Hills Have Eyes, Greg McLean's Wolf Creek, and the Saw franchise, horror has slowly been returning to the mid-'70s style of visceral, violent, blood-and-guts terror.

And one of the most evident of these films is Eli Roth's Hostel. A fan of notorious Japanese director Takashi Miike, Roth uses his sophomore project to craft a loving ode to Miike's style of filmmaking, an unrepentantly violent look into a world that I hope and pray does not truly exist. But is the movie actually worth seeking out?

Our story follows two Americans, Paxton (Jay Hernandez) and Josh (Derek Richardson), as they backpack through Europe with their Icelandic friend Oli (Eythor Gudjonsson). After an evening of entertainment at various Amsterdam hotspots (e.g. a hash bar, a discotheque, a brothel), they return to their hostel to discover that it's past curfew and they've been locked out. They end up causing a commotion when they try to get back in, but before they can face the wrath of some hostile locals, another local calls them up to his apartment. They dash up the fire escape and into his window, where the local introduces himself as Alex (Lubomir Bukovy).

The trio strikes up a discussion with Alex about hooking up with as many women as possible while on their tour of Europe, and Alex tells them of a hostel outside of the Slovakian capital of Bratislava that is home to beautiful women that will have sex with any foreigner for little money. Alex looks more like a sewer rat than he does a man, but hey, he's offering nubile young women who are so uninterested in human interaction that the only thing they care about is engaging in lots and lots of freaky, nasty, unbridled eastern European carnality. Why not listen to the guy?

Naturally, they catch the next train to Slovakia. Once they arrive, the three backpackers check into the hostel Alex spoke of, finding that their semi-private room is already populated by a pair of Russian beauties, Natalya (Barbara Nedeljáková) and Svetlana (Jana Kaderábková). The five roommates hit it off quickly, hitting the town that evening at the local nightclub. But as the three male travelers enjoy all the sex, drugs, and rock and roll that they can handle, it soon becomes apparent that foul things are afoot in Slovakia. One by one, they discover the horrifying truth: that their hostel is merely a front for a group that allows rich tourists to sadistically torture and murder kidnapped innocents for a fee. They have entered a veritable Hell on Earth, where they will be maimed, tortured, mutilated, and discover their worst nightmares come to life.

Hostel could have been really, really good. It has respectable direction, wonderful music, inoffensive performances from its cast, and blood by the gallons. Unfortunately, the movie is bogged down by its lackluster script. The movie was billed as "inspired by true events," but that may be a bit of a stretch. Writer/director Eli Roth says he got the idea for Hostel when he was shown a Thai website that advertised a "murder vacation," where interested parties could pay 10,000 dollars to torture and kill innocent victims. He admittedly didn't know if it was real or a joke, but he was intrigued enough to write the movie.

It was written, produced, edited, and released in just short of a year, with the script apparently being finalized in right around a month (give or take a few weeks). I think that's really apparent, because it seems as if Roth didn't take his time when writing. It seems to me that he had so many ideas he wanted to include, that he forgot to give us anything meaningful. It's nothing that you couldn't see by renting either Faces of Death, Wolf Creek, one of the Saw movies, or something directed by Takashi Miike.

I think it's fitting that Takashi Miike has a cameo in Hostel, because Roth cites Miike's wonderful Audition as one of his major influences for the movie. While there is no middle-aged Japanese man looking for a new wife in Hostel, nor does it carry the same type of vibe as Audition, both movies involve characters falling deeper and deeper into a world they eventually regret ever getting involved with. (Though to that aspect, Hostel also bears a striking similarity to the far superior Wolf Creek.)

Though while Audition gives the appearance of a romance movie in its early going, Hostel initially comes across as a badly written teen sex comedy, and its very hard to actually identify with any of the three leads. They only really exist to get high, drunk, and laid. I understand that sort of character is somewhat of a cliché nowadays, especially in an era of movies like American Pie and Van Wilder. But what made the characters from those movies so endearing is that the have their own personality, charm, and charisma. Though there is some attempt to give Hostel's characters some dimension, it ultimately falls flat.

Though to be fair, the script wouldn't have been all that bad if the few bizarre leaps in logic had been excised, and the entire first act of the movie hadn't been spent making the three leads look like stupid, stoned, sex-crazed losers. On second thought, perhaps the characters being so unlikable is Roth's intention. The three leads are self-serving, narcissistic frat boys that do not connect on any level with any of the women they hook up with; to them, the women are just stories, or life experiences. We don't have any reason to feel bad for them (or we might outright dislike them), so when they are finally maimed, tortured, and finally killed, we may be cheering for the brutality. And how awful are we, for cheering on the cruelty? Ultra-violent movies like this are confusing, because any sort of entertainment or enjoyment derived from them could paint the viewer as being nearly as depraved as the movie's villains. That's something to think about.

As with Cabin Fever, Roth shows a lot of promise as a director, and I think that he could in time become a prime time player within the horror genre. The movie has quite a few brilliant pieces of filmmaking, believe it or not. There are gorgeous camera movements (thanks to cinematographer Milan Chadima), and the subtle changes in lighting and atmosphere before arriving in the torture chamber are excellent. When we first arrive, the hostel and its surrounding area are bright, cheery, and comfortable. But as we move along and the torture chamber begins to claim its victims, the hostel becomes drab and dreary, and the chirping birds outside are replaced by crows.

There is also some wonderful editing in the movie too. For example, there is a scene in which one character hides in what has been termed "the butcher shop." The butcher (played by Josef Bradna) is hacking up body parts to better dispose of them, and with every slow, agonizing chop of his meat cleaver, we cut to a stack of disembodied limbs, to the looking for an escape, to the lifeless face of one of the survivor's deceased compatriots. It was a very good choice in editing, as it makes the scene a very harrowing one. But thanks to Hostel, I think I've started to grow numb to nudity in films. The first half of the movie has so much nudity that I could have sworn it was a porno film. After a while, I just wanted to throw up my hands and say, "Okay, I think I've finally seen all the naked women I'll ever need to see in life." Thanks a lot, Roth, you jerk.

Moving on, there are also the viciously realistic makeup effects orchestrated by Greg Nicotero and Howard Berger from KNB EFX Group. As I've said in many of my reviews, I've been a fan of KNB for a long time, and they didn't let me down with Hostel. From the severed limbs to the especially disturbing eye scene (you'll know it when you see it), the movie is a tour de force in cinematic nastiness. There's also the astounding musical score composed by Nathan Barr. The orchestral music alternates between haunting and ferocious, and successfully added to the intended atmosphere. And let's not forget the film's cast. Practically everyone in the cast is either an anonymous nobody, or actors that only people in eastern Europe would know. And in all honesty, I think most of them will remain unknown in America.

However, I must acknowledge that there were a few performances that I really liked. Eythor Gudjonsson isn't around much past the first act of the movie, but I thought he was hilarious and I hope that more American productions will cast him. Jay Hernandez is really good, and both Barbara Nedeljáková and Jana Kaderábková are a lot better than I thought they would be. I also liked Jan Vlasák as an incredibly creepy Dutch businessman and Rick Hoffman as an ultra-intense client of the hunting club, but anybody could have played the other roles.

Hostel is like three different short movies put together to make one. The first act is a sex comedy with tales of ribaldry and women with loose morals, the second act is the horrific torture movie, and the third act is a chase/revenge movie. With a better script, the movie could have been something of a modern cult success, but unfortunately, its full potential was not realized. I should say, however, that the movie's mere concept is scary enough. The execution may have left something to be desired, but I really did think that the idea of people paying money to torture and murder someone else is terrifying. But when you boil it down, there doesn't really seem to be much of a point to Hostel, mainly because there is so little emotion outside of complete misanthropy. It's a modern-day geek show, just one step higher than the guy that bites the heads off chickens at the circus.

Hostel has the appearance of a softcore porno movie that turns into a disgusting snuff film halfway through, like a Faces of Death video with better production value. It serves no purpose other than to see how much senseless gore a theatrically released horror movie could get away with and still earn an R-rating, then making a killing on the home video market with an unrated DVD. But because there actually are some parts I liked, I'll give it a "thumbs in the middle" with two and a half stars. I didn't hate it, but it didn't give me much of a reason to recommend it to anyone but people who love torture horror.

Final Rating: **½

Wolf Creek (2005)

Some of the most popular and intense horror films of the last several years have come from outside of the United States. Movies such as Alexandre Aja's French slasher High Tension, Danny Boyle's British zombie movie 28 Days Later, the Ginger Snaps trilogy from Canada, and the work of Asian filmmakers like Takashi Miike, Hideo Nakata, and Takashi Shimizu have all established that horror's strongest presence in this century perhaps lies beyond America's borders. With horror movies from the United Kingdom (e.g. 28 Days Later, Dog Soldiers, Shaun of the Dead) finding moderate success upon their importation to America, it was only a matter of time before horror movies from other English-speaking countries invaded the U.S. box offices.

One such film was Wolf Creek, an import from Australia that combined two recent trends in American entries in the genre: movies culling inspiration from supposedly true stories, and movies such as The Devil's Rejects, which hearken back to the gritty and extreme horror films of a bygone era of filmmaking. But does Wolf Creek succeed in being scary, or is it an import that should have stayed home?

Our tale of terror begins in the small coastal town of Broome in western Australia, circa 1999. It is here that we are quickly introduced to a pair of British tourists, Liz Hunter (Cassandra Magrath) and Kristy Earl (Kestie Morassi), and their Aussie friend and tour guide Ben Mitchell (Nathan Phillips). The trio have set out on a road trip through the lonely and isolated outback to visit the enormous Wolf Creek meteorite crater. They arrive and ponder the origins of the crater, but upon returning to where they parked, they discover that both their watches and their car have mysteriously stopped working. The three stranded travelers are forced to call it a night and camp out in the car, but late that evening, they're stumbled upon by — of all things — a man driving a tow truck.

Introducing himself as Mick Taylor (John Jarratt), the trucker is charming in a Crocodile Dundee kind of way, but something about him is unsettling. But no matter, the travelers need their car fixed, and Mick offers to tow them back to his encampment so he can patch it up for them in the morning. After a ride that feels like it lasts for hours, they finally arrive at Mick's camp, an intimidating combination of an abandoned mine and a junkyard. Mick is ever the host as they settle in, offering food, water, and a place to stay for the night. After having a fun evening around the campfire, everyone decides to turn in for the night and get some shut-eye. But things take a turn for the worse the following morning, when the three tourists all discover that their road trip has led them into a world of cruelty and sadism, and that Mick is far from the helpful, amiable man they believed him to be.

The American marketing campaign for Wolf Creek is reminiscent of the one for Michael Bay's remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in 2003. It is purportedly based on true events, yet both are fictional stories that spin true crimes into their narrative. While The Texas Chainsaw Massacre uses facts about Wisconsin cannibal Ed Gein for its story, Wolf Creek draws inspiration from various Australian murder cases, primarily the brutal "backpacker murders" committed by Ivan Milat between 1989 and 1992, the "Snowtown murders" committed between 1992 and 1999, and the disappearance of British tourist Peter Falconio.

Instead of following one particular incident, elements of them all are blended together to craft the story we are presented with. And what a story it is, too. Wolf Creek is relentlessly brutal, and sensitive viewers may just want to skip it. The movie utilizes an intensity that only makes the horrors depicted onscreen that much more terrifying, so even moments that may be tame seem as vicious as the worst.

I wouldn't go as far as to call the three protagonists memorable, but I didn't think they were awful. They have an enjoyable chemistry together, which the movie needed to make their friendship believable. Nathan Phillips is fun, but he disappears without a trace for nearly forty minutes in the third act. Until his reappearance for the final ten minutes, he's pretty much a non-factor for the entire thing. But when he's around, I thought he was very entertaining. I enjoyed Cassandra Magrath's charismatic, likable performance, and if Wolf Creek had gone the traditional route and made her the Final Girl that finally ends the killer's wrath at the end of the movie, I think she would have been up to task.

However, my favorite member of the ill-fated threesome was Kestie Morassi. I found her performance as a victim of both physical and psychological torture to be disturbingly believable, and she was so sympathetic that it made her final moments in the film even more heart-wrenching. But perhaps the hook of the whole movie is John Jarratt as our antagonist. When we meet him initially, he is very likable and has a winning personality, but he transforms into a sleazy, disgusting rapist and torturer. Jarratt is convincing as both, and although I'm sure he's a nice guy in real life, I don't think I'd want to be stuck with him on a lonely stretch of highway in the middle of nowhere. Especially if he had a Bowie knife and a sniper rifle.

Where the movie truly succeeds is Greg McLean's direction and writing, and Will Gibson's astounding cinematography. The shots of the horizon and various wildlife are nothing short of gorgeous, and it creates a surreal balance between the beauty of Australian nature and the hellish events depicted. Filmed on high-definition video, the movie has something of a gritty sheen that works to draw us in deeper to Mick's nasty, evil world.

The script, meanwhile, seemingly revels in misanthropy and misogyny. Even before things start going crazy, we're introduced to the idea that maybe people in the outback don't care much for women. In particular is a scene early in the movie where a biker (played by Andy McPhee) uncouthly tries to convince Ben to pimp out his two female companions. We also learn that Mick has no qualms with using his female victims as sex slaves, as evidenced by a bit of dialogue detailing the fate of a decaying corpse in a dark corner of the shack in which he has trapped Kristy.

And I believe it should be noted that outside of a party that opens the movie and the previously mentioned scene with the biker gang, nothing much happens for the first 35 minutes or so. While some may complain that the movie takes forever to get going, that wait actually works in the movie's favor, because it gives us a chance to get to know our three protagonists. That, combined with the documentary-style feeling, makes Wolf Creek just as similar to The Blair Witch Project as it is to movies like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Wrong Turn. The characters are not exactly three-dimensional, but after spending so much time with them, we feel like we know them and can sympathize with them, and it is that bond that makes their eventual fate all the more grueling to watch.

And then there's the character of Mick, who is an oddity. His role as something of a hunter could be seen as a nod to Richard Connell's classic short story The Most Dangerous Game. However, he is also strikingly similar to Rob Zombie's trio of killers from The Devil's Rejects. Mick is sadistic, brutal, and wholly unsympathetic, but he's such a captivating character that we can't help but like him a little. But unlike Zombie's characters, there is no catharsis for Mick. There is no grand sendoff set to a Lynyrd Skynyrd song. Mick merely disappears into the sunset, as if he were but one of a million urban legends and campfire ghost stories lost to the sands of time. His murders serve no larger purpose, and there is no real goal. He merely kills as if he were exterminating vermin, as if he were removing an annoying gopher that's been digging up his garden. There's no attempt to psychoanalyze him or explain why he kills, either; we just have to accept that things are the way they are for no reason and roll with it.

All this is enhanced by McLean's masterful direction. Many times during the movie, we know something bad is going to happen, but we have no idea when or how vicious it will be. That's suspense, folks, and Wolf Creek has it in spades. Take, for example, a scene in which a good Samaritan sits a thermos on the roof of his car while he fetches a blanket for a character. We hear a faint, nearly inaudible bang in the distance, and seconds later, we discover a bullet hole in the side of the thermos. What happens after that will send you ducking for cover. McLean also utilizes the vast emptiness of the outback to enhance the movie's feeling of loneliness and isolation, and it is assisted by the tense, moody musical score composed by François Tétaz. The music hit all the right notes (no pun intended), and helped to make the movie even more frightening.

Respected film critic Roger Ebert noted in a rare zero-star review that Wolf Creek gleefully lept across some imaginary line in the sand that separates the decent from the indecent, the well-adjusted from the depraved. He wrote, "There is a role for violence in film, but what the hell is the purpose of this sadistic celebration of pain and cruelty?" While his argument is certainly valid, and I agree that it is hard to justify cinematic violence when there's no real reason for it, I think Ebert should lighten up. Wolf Creek did serve a purpose in the long run, and that was to horrify its audience. That's what horror movies are supposed to do. To believe otherwise is to misunderstand how they work.

The moviegoing public sometimes needs a film to show the evil that hides in the shadows of the human heart and soul, and Wolf Creek is a reminder that there really are sick people out there getting their jollies from torturing and killing innocent people. I don't know if I would go as far as to call the movie a social commentary in that sense, since that would be a wee bit pretentious on my part, but it is most certainly a terrifying experience. And because it is both terrifying and excellently made, I'll give Wolf Creek a solid four stars. Check it out, if you have the stomach.

Final Rating: ****

King Kong (2005)

Remakes are a common concept among Hollywood filmmakers. Why think up a new story when you can just take a well-known one and put a new spin on it? The thing is, only a select few lay claim to being equal to or better than its source material. Sure, there are remakes out there that are actually good, but many simply find themselves being halfhearted attempts to cash in on an established property. I'll admit that not every remake can be as entertaining as David Cronenberg's The Fly or John Carpenter's The Thing, but a lot of them are just plain disappointing.

But in an era of mediocre remakes, Academy Award-winning filmmaker Peter Jackson crafted a great one as the follow-up to his epic trilogy based on J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings novels. With his Lord of the Rings crew and a new cast of characters in tow, Jackson returned to his home country of New Zealand to craft a film born of the fond memories of his childhood, the remake of one of the most famous monster movies ever produced: King Kong. The second retelling of a story about a beauty and the beast whose heart she stole, Jackson has created a remake worthy of at least a portion of the respect Merian Cooper's original film is given. So let's get to the review, shall we?

We begin in New York City circa 1933. The city is in the grip of the Great Depression, and among the impoverished masses is Ann Darrow (Naomi Watts). A struggling vaudevillian actress who has grown accustomed to performing shows in front of more empty seats than people, Ann is heartbroken to discover that she's been forced out of her job after the lack of income forces her theater to permanently close its doors.

Desperate to find work, she stops local casting director Charles Weston (David Pittu) on the street and hits him up for a role in an upcoming production written by her favorite playwright, Jack Driscoll (Adrien Brody). Weston says the role has already been cast, but sympathizing with her misfortune, he gives her the address of another job, suggesting that she only work there long enough to get whatever money she needs.

Shortly thereafter, we are introduced to Carl Denham (Jack Black), an entrepreneurial filmmaker whose penchant for "safari films" isn't exactly winning over his investors. They'd rather him make more profitable romantic movies, or at least include a few naked jungle girls. When Denham discovers his investors are planning to sell off his latest work as stock footage instead of funding his next movie, he and his assistant Preston (Colin Hanks) steal the footage and jump into the first taxi they can.

Once on their way, Denham tells Preston to assemble their crew so they can leave within the hour for their location shoot. But being the bearer of bad news that he is, Preston informs Denham that their leading lady has quit because Preston couldn't bring himself to lie to her about their filming location. And to really narrow things down, any replacement they get will have to be a size four because the wardrobe department has finished all the costumes. Denham rattles off a number of actresses, but all of them are unavailable. He hops out of the taxi and begins a search for a new lead actress, leaving Preston to make sure everything else is in order.

Ann and Denham's paths fortuitously cross paths at a burlesque house, where they both arrive at the same time. Yeah, Weston sent her to a strip club to find work. Real class act, that guy. Denham notices her, and realizing she's the woman he's looking for, he follows her as she dejectedly walks away. The starving Ann soon arrives at a fruit stand and gets herself into trouble when the stand's proprietor catches her stealing an apple, but Denham promptly steps in, holding up a coin to pay for it. He takes her to a café to talk to her, but promptly kills any trust she may have had in him by asking if she's a size four.

This, of course, is precisely the thing you shouldn't as a lady as soon as you meet her. Ann thinks he's looking for a good time and she just isn't that kind of girl. Denham reassures her that he means no harm, only wanting to offer her a role in his movie. As he explains the intended role to her, she shows enough interest to convince Denham that she'd be a perfectly sympathetic star. Unfortunately for him, Ann graciously turns him down, explaining that she's a comedian at heart. Starring in a dramatic picture is out of the question. But when Denham fleetingly mentions that Jack Driscoll is putting the finishing touches on the script, she just can't say no.

They arrive at the docks soon thereafter, where Denham introduces Ann to Preston and their ship's captain, Englehorn (Thomas Kretschmann). Preston pulls Denham aside and tells him that his investors have sent the police after him for stealing his footage from them, prompting Denham to send Ann on board while urging Captain Englehorn to set sail immediately despite the lack of proper paperwork. Denham rushes aboard to search for a place to hide, bumping into Jack in his cabin to review the script. And much to Denham's chagrin, Denham has only completed the first fifteen pages of the script. But Jack is in a hurry, as he has an appointment with his true love: the theater.

As Jack starts to leave, Denham surprises him by offering $2,000 as payment. After getting stalled with a few poorly written checks, Jack heads for the door, choosing to wait until Denham returns to accept his pay. But thanks to Denham's stalling, Jack misses his opportunity to get off the boat before it sets sail, leaving the dock mere moments before the police arrive. He even considers jumping overboard, but hesitates, leaving Denham to quip, "If you truly loved the theater, you would have jumped."

As the ship's voyage gets underway, the ship's first mate Hayes (Evan Parke) leads Jack to the cargo hold, since all of the actual cabins are spoken for. There are cages everywhere, and when ne'er-do-well cabin boy Jimmy (Jamie Bell) accidentally reveals Captain Englehorn's stash of chloroform, Jack learns that their captain is an expert in capturing exotic animals. He pays it no mind, however, and picks out a rather large cage that he'll call home while he finishes the script.

It is during one of Jack's brainstorming sessions with Denham that their fearless leader finally divulges that the ship's true destination is not Singapore, but a mythical uncharted territory named Skull Island. The little snoop that he is, Jimmy hears the whole conversation and relays the news to Hayes. So he's a thief (as evidenced by a scene in which he got caught stealing Jack's fancy fountain pen), a snoop, and a snitch. I'm surprised the other sailors haven't thrown him overboard yet. Hayes confronts Denham about it, recounting a tale of a drifter who had been found out to sea. He told an ominous story of a island with a massive wall, but before he could divulge any more information, he killed himself.

As the ship's voyage progresses, as does the filming of Denham's movie. As production moves forward, Jack finds himself less than impressed with the performance of egotistical star Bruce Baxter (Kyle Chandler), who often improvises instead of sticking to the script like asked. However, Jack is vocal in his satisfaction with Ann's performance, and before long, the pair are head over heels for one another. The guy even writes a play for her to star in. Alas, their romantic bliss is cut short when Captain Englehorn alters course after discovering that there's a warrant out for Denham's arrest. Unfortunately, the ship gets caught in an impenetrable fog bank and eventually crashes into a gigantic rock wall off the coast of ― where else ― Skull Island. The ship is stranded, and as the ship's crew tries to remedy this unenviable situation, Denham takes his film crew onto shore.

As they arrive, they quickly learn that "Skull Island" is an appropriate name, because not only is the shore full of rocks that resemble skulls, but a number of very real human skulls line the path that the landing party follows. Denham's party soon lands in a village bordered by an enormous wall, the one alluded to earlier. The village is seemingly deserted, populated only buy skeletons that appear as if they were part of ritual sacrifices. Denham discovers that the town is very much inhabited, but the natives that call Skull Island home aren't exactly thrilled about having visitors. An unlucky member of the landing party finds himself the recipient of a spear through the back as the natives attack, killing more members of the crew while showing a very disturbing interest in Ann.

Captain Englehorn and his sailors finally show up with guns and chase the villagers off, and both the sailors and film crew return to the boat and get ready to leave. But upon nightfall, a native slips on board and kidnaps Ann, who is dragged back to the island and prepared as the newest sacrifice to the creatures that live on the other side of the wall. Tied up and alone, the frightened Ann is even more terrified to discover just what she has been sacrificed to: a 25-foot-tall gorilla named Kong (Andy Serkis, via motion capture technology).

However, the native that kidnapped Ann made the mistake of leaving a necklace behind for Jack to find. He informs the sailors, who immediately drop what they're doing and start a rescue mission. Ann's rescuers arrive at the wall just as the giant ape snatches up his quarry and disappears back into the jungle of which he is king. Jack and a number of armed crewmen venture behind the wall after Ann and Kong, while Denham, Baxter, and some of the film crew tag along with the intention of continuing his movie's production.

Once past the wall, Captain Englehorn gives them twenty-four hours to return before he and the ship leaves for home with or without them. Unfortunately for them, the island's jungle isn't exactly the happiest place on Earth. Thanks to Denham's inherent desire to finish his movie no matter what, he and Baxter accidentally anger a herd of brontosauruses into stampeding. And just their luck, a number of hungry velociraptors get in on the fun too. Once they get to safety (after a few members of the group have been trampled or eaten), they stop to regroup, with Baxter's cowardly ways coming to the surface as he suggests they turn around and assume Ann didn't survive. Driscoll calls him on being a chicken, and takes the rest of the crew to continue the search.

Meanwhile, Ann has survived, and has been brought to Kong's home high atop a cliff overlooking the ocean. Ann pulls out some of her vaudeville act in an attempt to keep him from killing her, which actually does work in amusing him. Kong humorously gets in on the act by knocking her down over and over, but when she yells at him and tells him to stop, Kong throws a temper tantrum and leaves. And smartly, she takes the opportunity to escape. While she runs for her freedom, the rescue party runs into Kong while trying to cross a fallen tree that bridges a crevasse. Not too happy after the argument with Ann, Kong dumps the tree and everyone on it into the ravine. The fall kills most of the crewmen, and the survivors find themselves at the mercy of giant man-eating bugs and maggots.

With only Jack, Denham, and Jimmy left, Baxter and Captain Englehorn come to their rescue. Jack continues his determined search for Ann while the rest of the crew return to the ship, with Denham (whose camera and film were destroyed in the fall down the ravine) deciding that if he can't have his movie, he's going to capture Kong.

While all this is going on, Ann runs afoul of a trio of angry Tyrannosaurus Rexes, but Kong returns in the nick of time. He manages to fight off and kill all three T-Rexes, then puts Ann on his shoulder and walks back to his cliff, where they watch a lovely sunset and she falls asleep in his gigantic paw. It is up on the cliff where Jack finds them, and he and Ann make a break for it while Kong defends himself from a mob of overgrown bats. Kong catches up to them as they run through the jungle, where the remaining crewmen are waiting to spring a trap for Kong. The trap only serves to slow Kong down, and at the last minute, Denham knocks him out by smashing a bottle of chloroform across Kong's forehead. Standing above the unconscious primate, he announces his plans to make Kong a Broadway attraction as "the eighth wonder of the world."

Months later in New York City, Ann has become an anonymous chorus line dancer after refusing large sums of money to assist with Denham's exploitation of Kong, while the lovelorn Jack watches a production of the play he wrote for her. Unable to watch the play without Ann in the lead role, Jack leaves and rushes to another theater, where Denham has succeeded in putting the shackled Kong on display in front of a large audience. The show also features an elaborate stage show featuring actors playing the natives and Bruce Baxter taking all of Jack's glory as "the man who hunted down the mighty Kong." The grand finale of the show features a fake Ann presented before Kong, which, when combined with the annoying popping of the media's camera flashbulbs, only serves to piss the big guy off.

Kong breaks free from his restraints and begins demolishing the theater. But when he recognizes Jack as the man that stole away his beloved, Kong follows Jack into Times Square and runs amok in his frantic search to reclaim Ann. Jack decides to lead him to her, commandeering a taxicab and tearing through the streets of Manhattan with Kong hot on his heels. He finally catches up with Jack, but before he can squash his human foe into a greasy spot on the pavement, Kong sees Ann and calms down. He scoops her up and takes her to Central Park, where they have a brief moment of happiness sliding around on a frozen pond.

Their fun is short-lived, however, as the military breaks it up with gunfire. With Ann in hand, Kong bounces around across the skyscrapers of Manhattan, escaping to the Empire State Building at sunrise. But once again, their happiness is cut short by six Navy biplanes firing at Kong. The story comes to a head in a recreation of one of Hollywood's most legendary scenes, as Kong makes one last stand atop the Empire State Building against the planes that seek to bring him down.

Clocking in at around three hours and seven minutes, King Kong is twice the length of the original film. This is the biggest problem with the movie; it just runs far too long. Even the end credits run long, contributing nearly ten minutes of the movie's total running time. Most directors remove or shorten scenes from their movies to tighten the pacing or keep it at a respectable running time, but it seems as if director Peter Jackson kept nearly everything he shot. There's a deleted scene or two out there (one of which turned up in TV commercials for the movie), but for the most part, I don't really think very much was lost in the editing room. Maybe Jackson forgot that most people would get a little restless if stuck in a theater for three hours. Maybe he didn't want a very big "deleted scenes" feature on the DVD release. I don't know.

A movie this long isn't so bad on home video, because you can hit the pause button and take a potty break, get a snack, or whatever, then come back and pick up where you left off. But in a theater, you're going to be looking at your watch after about two and a half hours, wondering if and when this thing going to end. While I don't have a problem with long movies per se, King Kong has a few moments that are exciting and entertaining at first, but become tedious after a while because they just keep going and going and going like it was the Energizer Bunny.

However, despite the movie being far too long for its own good, Jackson's direction is very good. For a guy that got his start directing gory low-budget horror movies, Jackson certainly knows how to make an epic. In association with the cinematography of Andrew Lesnie, King Kong is a visual tour de force. Jackson utilizes creative camera angles, such as the point-of-view shots from the biplanes, to put the audience right there in the action. However, Jackson overuses slow-motion setups until they become annoying. You might be able to get away with it a few times, but there's a certain point where a line gets crossed. And when Jackson decided to draw out Denham spelling the word "skull," he gleefully hopped right over that line.

The movie's "realism" also came under fire in various reviews around the time of its initial release, but there is a certain suspension of disbelief that should quell some of their complaints. However, I do wonder about one thing. How would Kong be able to jostle poor tiny Ann around as he does without hurting her? As much as she gets thrown around, I'm surprised she didn't end up with a broken neck (or a major case of whiplash, at the very least). But then again, the movie is about a 30-foot gorilla that fights dinosaurs in the South Pacific before fighting planes atop a skyscraper in New York City. So I guess I shouldn't let a crazy little thing like the laws of physics get in the way of having a good time.

The script, penned by Jackson, Fran Walsh, and Philippa Boyens, isn't all that bad. It's a far improvement over the original script from 1933. The characters are much more well-rounded, and it succeeds at telling a better story. Though it uses the 1933 classic as its blueprint, King Kong also draws inspiration from the 1976 remake by developing a delicate, two-way relationship between Kong and the film's female lead. Fay Wray's Ann Darrow was merely a frightened object of Kong's lust, while Naomi Watts's Ann Darrow views Kong as her protector. It seemed to me that if Kong were human, Ann would pick him over Jack any day.

The Ann/Kong relationship is developed through numerous scenes, each marvelous in their own way. From Ann performing a humorous dance routine for Kong and watching a sunset atop a cliff, to their playfully tender moment in Central Park and the sweet sunrise atop the Empire State Building, I found the onscreen chemistry between Naomi Watts and her computer-animated simian friend more likeable and enjoyable than many human couples in romantic movies.

It is not only a testament to Naomi Watts's ability as an actress, as she had to share the screen with someone she couldn't see, but it is a testament to Andy Serkis's ability to convey emotions with simple movements. He doesn't so much play Kong as he does provide the body language for the effects team, but Serkis gives Kong a humanity not seen in the original movie, and it set up the necessary connection that needed to be made between the screen and the viewer. Because if Kong was just another monkey, it wouldn't have been as engaging.

With the exception of the Kong/Ann relationship, perhaps the movie's strongest point is the cast. Of the three lead characters, Naomi Watts is the best of them. Not only is the role very physical and requiring Watts to interact with a cast member who isn't there, but she must also travel a diverse emotional range. From fear to acceptance to caring, Watts hits the nail right on the head with her absolutely wonderful performance.

Adrien Brody does what he can, but the role isn't really a lot. He doesn't get to contribute much, outside of falling in love with Ann, running around the island, getting into a car chase, and riding in an Empire State Building elevator. He's not exactly bad, but Brody isn't given all that much to work with. And in the most unusual instance of casting against type I've seen in a while, Jack Black is quite effective as Carl Denham. I've seen the role described as a cross between Cecil B. DeMille and P.T. Barnum, and I think it's a very fitting description. Black primarily plays the role straight, but there are traces of his comedic personality that shine through on occasion.

While King Kong isn't exactly the best movie of 2005, it's definitely very good. Although it runs far too long and runs the risk of being boring, it proves that in spite of the disappointing remake of Godzilla, movies about old-school gigantic monsters can be good. I doubt Jackson's retelling of the story will overtake the 1933 version in the minds and hearts of moviegoers, but it definitely shows that there are times when remakes can honor the legacy of its unsurpassable source material. It's an entertaining movie if you can forgive the three-hour running time, so fans of movie monsters will find a fun movie to watch..

Final Rating: ****

King Kong (1976)

Remaking a classic film can be a tricky thing. You not only have to appeal to those that hold the source material dear (and will likely resent the remake no matter what), but try something a little different so the movie doesn't seem like a total rip-off. The idea of remaking movies has meant big business for Hollywood since the late '90s, but they've been around for decades. Even as early as the '50s, filmmakers have long been infatuated with the idea of telling the same story from a different perspective.

But when Italian producer Dino de Laurentiis announced his intentions to remake the legendary monster movie King Kong in 1976, critics immediately jumped all over it. The original King Kong is one of those movies that you just don't mess around with, so the idea of a remake was immediately proclaimed blasphemy. But is it really that bad?

Our story begins at a port in the Indonesian city of Surabaya, where an exploratory vessel for the Petrox Oil Company is on an expedition to find a previously undiscovered South Pacific island hidden by a permanent fogbank. Petrox executive Fred Wilson (Charles Grodin) believes the island contains a massive depository of oil, and wants to acquire it before Shell and Exxon have the chance. As Wilson explains the details of the island to the crew, the meeting is interrupted by Jack Prescott (Jeff Bridges), a primate paleontologist that just so happened to stow away as the ship left Surabaya. He warns Wilson's team about going through with their mission, citing ominous messages from previous doomed explorers. Wilson orders Prescott to be locked up, claiming he's really a spy from a rival corporation. However, while being led to the brig, Prescott spots a small life raft in the ocean and convinces the crew to pick it up.

On the raft is a beautiful yet unconscious woman who, upon awakening, introduces herself as Dwan (Jessica Lange). Yes, her name is "Dwan." No, that is not a typo. I'm assuming that whoever came up with that name was either a.) a hippie, b.) an idiot, or c.) had a rather tenuous grasp on the English language. Maybe it was d.) all of the above. In any event, it is revealed that she was an actress aboard a movie producer's yacht when it suddenly exploded, but because she was on deck, she managed to get into a lifeboat. Turns out the only reason she was up on deck was because she didn't want to watch Deep Throat with the rest of the yacht's crew. I wish I was joking, but that's the real reason. Go watch the movie for yourself if you don't believe me.

The voyage continues as planned, and the ship finally arrives at the island. The expedition, with Dwan in tow, head for shore. Despite Wilson's unsupported belief that the island is uninhabited, they discover a primitive tribe of natives living behind a gigantic wall. The natives are in the middle of a ceremony where they plan on sacrificing a girl to their god, Kong. But when their leader (Keny Long) notices them watching, he stops everything and starts giving them grief over it. None of the expedition understands the native language, but they do understand when the tribe's leader proposes to trade six of their women for Dwan. They refuse, and when the tribe makes a move, the expedition gets out of Dodge as fast as their legs can carry them.

Back on the boat, nightfall comes, and the natives stealthily arrive at the ship and kidnap Dwan. They're like ninjas. Nobody even knows they're there until it's too late. They take her back to the island and lash her to an altar as a sacrifice, and from the looks of it, she doesn't really mind. Dwan doesn't even fight back or scream or anything. So anyway, they tie her to this altar thingamajig, and as everybody has probably assumed, we discover that Kong is a fifty-foot-tall ape. Kong picks her up, and she finally screams for help. Yeah, Dwan, that would have been a little more helpful had you done it earlier. But instead of biting her head off or squashing her, Kong just heads back into the jungle. Okay, whatever. Maybe Kong has a soft spot for airhead hippies with stupid names, I don't know.

While the sacrifice takes place, Prescott finds a native's necklace where Dwan had been, and that's when it hits the fan. With Wilson and the team close behind, Prescott returns to the island and breaks up the tribe's party. But alas, Kong has already made off with Dwan. He takes his new trophy wench back to his home in the jungle the following morning, where she promptly calls him a "chauvinist pig-ape" (whatever that's supposed to mean) and tells him to choke on her before she bonks him on the nose.

Kong doesn't like that, so she starts backpedaling and apologizes. She tries to make nice, which leads to the following line of dialogue: "I'm a Libra. What sign are you? I bet you're an Aries." Once again, I wish I was joking. She asked Kong his sign! He's a giant monkey, astrology serves him no purpose. He has people to eat, jungles to conquer. But as lame as it may be, Dwan's flirtatiousness spares her life, as Kong puts her down and makes goo-goo eyes at her. She promptly tries to run away and falls into a mud puddle, so Kong once again picks her up and carries her away. Gentleman that he is, Kong takes the muddy Dwan to a waterfall and gives her a bath. He even blows her dry. And judging by her reaction, hot monkey breath really scratched her itch, if you know what I mean.

Meanwhile, back at Wilson's base in the village, Wilson's assistant Roy (Rene Auberjonois) informs him that there is indeed a large deposit of petroleum on the island. But there's a catch: it'll be another ten thousand years before the oil will be worth anything. Not wanting to go home empty-handed, Wilson calls in reinforcements. Nightfall comes once again, and just as Kong starts putting the moves on Dwan and remove her top, they're attacked by an enormous snake. Prescott finds them, and while a battle between Kong and the snake ensues, they make a run for it. The fight is short, and Kong begins chasing the pair through the jungle. Just as they arrive at the village's giant wall, Kong is bombarded with chloroform and knocked unconscious.

Since he won't be getting any of the oil he so desired, Wilson has come up with another idea to make Petrox millions of dollars. Drawing inspiration from both an offhanded joke made a member of his crew and Exxon's "put a tiger in your tank" advertising campaign, Wilson decides to transport Kong to the United States as a promotional gimmick for Petrox. Confined to a dark, empty compartment aboard an oil tanker, Kong is a miserable wreck until they reach their final destination of New York City. Prescott protests Kong's exploitation, theorizing that losing Kong will cause the entire island to turn to alcoholism because their way of life has changed so drastically. It's funny, because I figured that having an enormous man-eating ape living in my backyard would be a better reason to start hitting the bottle. Getting rid of him would be a good thing, right?

But in any event, Prescott protests, and tries to convince Dwan to avoid involvement herself. But the call of stardom is too tempting for her, and she agrees to do Petrox's "Beauty and the Beast" show with Kong, who is bound in chains and surrounded by an immense cage. Unfortunately, Kong mistakes the throng of reporters surrounding Dwan as attackers, and the extremely pissed off ape goes berserk. He breaks out of his chains and the cage surrounding him, and begins to demolish anything standing in his way.

Kong angrily squashes Wilson and demolishes an above-ground subway train, before leisurely strolling across the East River. He discovers and recaptures Dwan, making his way through the streets of Manhattan towards the World Trade Center. With his betrothed in tow, he climbs atop of the World Trade Center and stares down armed helicopters and men with flame throwers, staging what will be his last stand.

You know that whole stereotype of remakes paling in comparison to their source material? The 1976 iteration of King Kong reinforces that stereotype. The movie is nothing short of mediocre from start to finish. The acting is less than stellar, the script is silly, and the special effects are lackluster. And even the movie's tagline is screwy. The poster up there proclaims the movie to be "the most exciting original motion picture event of all time." Think about that one. I mean really ponder it for a minute. You done? Okay. Now that you've thought about it, I'd like to ask: What kind of moron in Paramount's advertising department decided to promote a remake as an "original motion picture"? Anybody that hasn't been living in a cave for their entire lives has heard of King Kong, so billing a remake as original smacks of absolute idiocy.

So let's go down the list of the really big complaints, shall we? The screenplay written by Lorenzo Semple Jr. is very much a sign of the times. A great big stupid sign of the times. There's the energy crisis, greedy corporations, characters using the "what's your sign" method of flirting. Even that idiotic pet rock fad is referenced in the name of the Petrox Oil Company. The screenplay does retain a basic skeleton similar to the original classic: a group of people discover an colossal simian on an island in the South Pacific and ship him to New York City, only for the ape to go crazy over a pretty blonde woman and climb a relatively new skyscraper (or pair of them, as is the case in the remake).

However, Semple makes numerous artistic changes to the story, some of them for the worse. Instead of the timeless idea of a film crew, the crew is an is an oil company hunting for petroleum reserves, something much more topical as America was still recovering from the oil crisis of 1973. And let's not forget Semple's complete and total omission of the dinosaurs living on Skull Island (which remains nameless in the remake). The various dinosaurs were the coolest part of the original movie, yet the only other wildlife on Skull Island is a very large, very immobile snake. Come on, guys, couldn't you have given us something worth watching on Skull Island?

Semper's dialogue is downright ridiculous as well. Dwan's line "did you ever meet anyone before whose life was saved by Deep Throat?" has to be one of the most absurd (yet oddly brilliant) snippets of movie dialogue I have ever heard. How Jessica Lange could deliver it with a straight face is beyond me. However, I should commend Semple for giving us a sequence that neither Merian Cooper or Peter Jackson attempted to offer. In neither of the other versions do we see how Kong is transferred to his American prison, but this film does.

Semple also develops the romance between his human leads better than the original story did. Ditto for the relationship between Kong and his betrothed. In the original film, Fay Wray existed simply as an object of Kong's lust. She loathed him, and he only kept her around because he thought she was cute. But in this updated version, Kong and Dwan seemingly have a bond. It takes her a while to warm up to him; in the early going, she appears to merely humor Kong's fondness for her in order to keep him calm. But as the movie progresses, and she realizes the depths of Kong's affection, her fear and dislike for him give way to sympathy. She knows that his rampage through Manhattan will lead to his demise, but she tries to save him and weeps when he takes the Nestea Plunge off the World Trade Center.

And then there's those very poor special effects. If Dino de Laurentiis had just waited a couple of years for George Lucas to conquer the world with Star Wars, then the effects could have been salvaged. But alas, what we get is average at best. The special effects won an Academy Award, proving that in the '70s, special effects didn't have to be all that special to garner praise. There apparently wasn't much evolution in the effects field in the forty-three years between the original and this one. The blue-screen shots are very noticeable and distracting (especially in the scene where Dwan punches Kong on the nose), while Kong is very obviously a guy in a costume. Rick Baker, the man in the monkey suit, doesn't even bother to walk or really act like an ape.

And to make things worse, the suit doesn't look all that realistic either. My guess is that the effects department decided that they would eschew any type of sophistication and play it like a Godzilla movie. That's the only excuse I can think of, because the suit looks just as awful as the worst Godzilla costume. There's also a life-size mechanical version of Kong in the movie, which is a great idea in theory. But in execution, it just looks completely fake. Maybe that's why it has only about ten seconds of screen time. And let's not forget Kong's epic brouhaha with the giant snake. Simply put, Kong's battle with the snake has to be the stupidest cinematic fight scene since Bela Lugosi took on a fake octopus in Bride of the Monster.

I should, however, compliment the sweeping musical score arranged by John Barry. It successfully establishes the mood needed for each scene, and I'd rank it as some of the most underrated work on Barry's extensive résumé. Also great is John Guillermin's direction and Richard H. Kline's Oscar-winning cinematography, which give the movie a much-needed epic scope. But Guillermin and Kline's work is nearly rendered ineffective by the lousy art direction at the beginning of the movie. The majority of the jungle sets look like they were leftovers from old episodes of Star Trek. Frankly, they just aren't believable at all.

And finally, there's the cast. You can tell they're all having fun, but that doesn't exactly mean the same for the audience. Jeff Bridges's hippie animal rights activist is a pain in the neck, and not once did I want to root for him. Charles Grodin is fun as an unscrupulous corporate executive, but the character exists solely to look pathetic and be proven wrong every time he says something. But Jessica Lange's performance leaves a lot to be desired. Throughout the whole film, Lange just preens for the camera, as if she's silently declaring, "Here I am, world. Check me out. Aren't I just so darn pretty?" She's like the Paris Hilton of the '70s, only not quite as skanky.

Granted, King Kong was her very first movie, but couldn't she have at least tried harder? During the whole sacrifice scene, Lange simply sat there. She didn't scream, she barely moved, and she didn't even bother to open her eyes for most of it. I wouldn't be surprised if she was as high as a kite, because she definitely looked like it. Seriously, if I was being sacrificed to a giant gorilla against my will, I would at least pretend to be a little perturbed.

I must admit that I'm not the least bit surprised that she took a three-year hiatus from Hollywood after making King Kong, as she didn't appear in another film until All That Jazz came out in 1979. If I'd been around in 1976 and had been asked if Jessica Lange would have had a fruitful career in Hollywood based on her performance in King Kong, I'd have probably said no. But she has two Best Actress Oscars (along with four other nominations) to her credit, so King Kong proves that everyone can improve upon something.

The remake of King Kong wasn't the complete disaster that history has made it out to be. It made a solid 52 million dollars at the domestic box office, which would be a huge 180 million dollars when adjusted for inflation. So King Kong wasn't a financial failure by any means. However, time has not been as kind to the remake as it has been to the original classic. As I said earlier, this movie reinforces the stereotype that most remakes are disappointing attempts to make a buck or two at the expense of a proven name. No, it isn't a bad movie, but it's not a good one either. A film's mediocrity can be forgiven if it is at least charming or entertaining, but King Kong doesn't really fit either of those categories. I wanted so much more out of the movie, but I just didn't get it.

Final Rating: **

King Kong (1933)

"Every time I'm in New York, I say a little prayer when passing the Empire State Building. A good friend of mine died up there."
—Fay Wray (1907-2004)

To her memory, this review is respectfully dedicated.

Monster movies are nothing new. Movies like Them!, The Day of the Triffids, The Giant Gila Monster, and The Killer Shrews populated drive-in theaters and late-night creature feature shows throughout the '50s and '60s. And many of the most prolific monster movies have come from the Far East, as Japanese studio Toho Company gained fame for their long-running series of films starring Godzilla and his "kaiju" brethren.

But among all the monster movies that have been made, one of the most revered and beloved was a film produced by RKO Pictures in 1933. A spin on the classic "Beauty and the Beast" fable, King Kong has become a truly iconic motion picture in the seventy years since its first release. It has sparked the imaginations of innumerable people, and consistently turns up on the "Greatest Films Ever" lists of both critics and regular moviegoers. But has the King's crown lost any of its luster over the years? That's what we're here to find out.

Our story begins in Depression-era New York City, where we are immediately introduced to Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong). A stubborn, fearless filmmaker who specializes in nature pseudo-documentaries and adventure movies, Denham is ready to set sail to destinations unknown to make his latest film, but there's a few snags. First off, Captain Englehorn (Frank Reicher) informs him that they have to set sail immediately, lest the fire marshal discover his illegal cargo of firearms, explosives, and gas bombs. That wouldn't be such a big deal for Denham, but he's desperate to find a female lead for the movie because a "pretty face" would double his profits.

But the thing is, he can't find anyone for the role because of his recklessness as a director, not to mention his secretiveness in regards to where the film will be made. No agent wants to send an actress on a long sea voyage with an all-male crew, especially a voyage where not even the skipper and first mate know where they're going. When his agent voices his own concern over the idea, Denham wanders the streets in search for a suitable leading lady.

His search isn't a long one, as he stumbles upon Ann Darrow (Fay Wray), a destitute young woman caught trying to steal an apple from a fruit stand. The stand's proprietor threatens to call the police, but Denham breaks up the ruckus and pays for the apple. The starving Ann swoons into Denham's arms, at which moment he's taken aback by her beauty. He takes her to a coffee shop and offers her a job, but Ann is hesitant at first. If some guy I didn't know came up to me on the street and wanted me to star in a movie, I'd be nervous too. For all I know, that movie could be a snuff film, or porn. Maybe both, depending on how bad my luck is.

Denham chivalrously reassures her that there will be "no funny business," and she accepts. She needs the money, so why not? They leave port the following morning on the S.S. Venture, beginning their six-week cruise to the South Pacific. The idea of Ann tagging along doesn't sit well with first mate Jack Driscoll (Bruce Cabot), who promptly labels her as "that girl Denham picked up." He comes across as a total chauvinistic pig at first, but soon starts warming up to her as time goes on. His affection for Ann is so obvious, Denham jokingly questions his toughness, declaring him the Beast to Ann's Beauty.

As the time goes by and the voyage continues, Denham finally gets around to telling Englehorn and Driscoll where they're going. He's acquired a rudimentary map to Skull Island, an uncharted island in the Indian Ocean that is home to a mythical creature named "Kong." It isn't long before they arrive at Skull Island, discovering a giant wall and a tribe preparing a girl as a ritual sacrifice. The native chief (Noble Johnson) and the village witch doctor (Steve Clemente) notice them and claim that the ceremony has been ruined by the film crew showing up. Luckily (and conveniently) for them, Englehorn is somewhat familiar with their language and tries to talk sense into them. At Denham's urging, Englehorn assures the natives that they don't mean any harm, but the chief is still upset over their interruption. He proposes to trade six of their women for Ann, an offer that Denham declines while gently leading the film crew back to the ship and assuring the chief through Englehorn that they will "be back tomorrow to make friends."

Back on the Venture, Jack and Ann openly declare their affection for one another, but their romance doesn't get a chance to last very long. When Jack is called away on business by Englehorn, a covert band of natives in a canoe sneak aboard and kidnap Ann, dragging her back to the island and presenting her to Kong in a reprisal of the ceremony from earlier. Tied up and alone, Ann is even more terrified as the giant ape named Kong arrives, as he snatches his quarry and disappears back into the jungle of which he is king. But just about that time, the Venture crew discovers Ann's absence, prompting them to return to the village and subdue the natives while a portion of them go behind the wall to search for Ann and Kong.

Unfortunately for them but fortunately for we the viewer, the island's jungle isn't exactly the happiest place on Earth. Most of the crew gets thinned out by a number of dinosaurs, while Kong himself fights of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, some snakes, and a pterodactyl in order to protect Ann. It is the distraction provided by the pterodactyl that gives Driscoll his opportunity to rescue Ann, and the two manage to escape unharmed. But the big ape doesn't give up that easily. He breaks through the village's wall and creates all kinds of havoc in search of Ann. He destroys the village and kills most of the natives, but is knocked unconscious by one of Englehorn's gas bombs. Ever the opportunist, Denham comes up with the idea to bring the unconscious Kong back to New York City and make millions exploiting him.

An unspecified amount of time later, we learn that Ann and Driscoll are engaged to be married, and Denham has earned fame as the man that captured a monster that he fully plans to make a huge box office attraction. Denham presents the chained-up Kong to a packed theater audience, declaring him the "eighth wonder of the world." But when he mistakes the irritating flashbulbs of photographers for an attack on his beloved Ann, the furious Kong breaks free from his restraints and charges into the streets of Manhattan.

Ann and Driscoll flee to her apartment, while Kong frantically searches for her. He stumbles upon her after climbing a skyscraper, reaching into her apartment window and snatching her out of bed. Kong marches through the city with Ann in tow, destroying a subway train in his path. The local law enforcement calls in airplanes to stop him and save Ann, and it all comes to a head in one of cinema's most legendary scenes, as Kong makes a climactic last stand atop the Empire State Building against the airplanes that seek to bring him down.

King Kong is a magical movie in spite of its disadvantages, which only exist due to how filmmaking and special effects have evolved since 1933. Though the movie's $670,000 budget looks meager, you have to remember that it was in 1933 money. When adjusted for inflation, it's right around nine million bucks in 2006 money. You could probably make a decent monster movie for that kind of money, right? They don't all have to be multimillion-dollar Speilberg-produced epics driven by computer graphics.

The special effects are primitive and outdated when compared to the standards set by the technological marvels of today's cinematic adventures. There is still something ageless, however, about seeing Kong in action that makes everything work. In this age of animatronics and computer generated imagery, Willis O'Brien's stop-motion animation projected behind choreographed actors almost seems anachronistic today. Over seventy years of advancements in the field have nearly rendered the effects obsolete, but its primeval nature is so charming that it makes you want to believe. And had a category honoring special effects existed in 1933, I'm sure King Kong would have won a very much deserved Oscar for it.

While the movie's basic plot is strong and effective in its simplicity, the script written by James Creelman and Ruth Rose doesn't really hold water. Upon discovering that Ann has been kidnapped, a character proclaims, "Crazy black man been here!" Yeah, that doesn't run the risk of being offensive. And let's not forget the one-dimensional clichés that make up the supporting cast, from the Chinese cook who speaks broken English (played by the uncredited Victor Wong), to the natives on Skull Island. They're the kind of natives you'd expect to see in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. You know, those "unga bunga" jungle cannibals that had those big kettles full of boiling water.

There's also the practically non-existent character development. Denham is ruthlessly money-hungry, Driscoll is a surly tough guy who's really a big softie on the inside, and Ann is the cute girl that screams a lot. There are no real arcs for anyone, no growth or change or serious depth to anybody. Everyone is pretty much exactly what they are on the surface and that's it. I guess I could chalk the characters being loosely defined archetypes and the weird racial stereotypes up to it just being how movies were made in the '30s?

I also have to point out something that I just didn't get. Why would the tribal natives build a wall to keep Kong away, yet install a door big enough for him get through? Yeah, I know all about how the producers decided to recycle sets from other movies to pinch a few pennies (the wall itself was taken from Cecil B. DeMille's 1927 movie The King of Kings and redressed to fit King Kong's needs), but come on now. If the natives really needed a door to the other side, why not just build a man-sized one and let that be that? I'm also curious about how much was known about dinosaurs while the movie was being produced. The crewmen are attacked and eaten by dinosaurs that are known herbivores. I understand that a movie about a gigantic ape climbing the Empire State Building requires a little suspension of disbelief, but as someone who loved dinosaurs in his youth, I just don't know who came up with the idea to turn the vegetarian dinosaurs into man-eaters. I guess it's one of those times I should just shut up and enjoy the movie for what it is.

Though not exactly the most noteworthy or outstanding by today's standards, the direction by Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack is competent and I can't really complain. Meanwhile, Max Steiner's musical score is exciting, entertaining, and is perhaps one of the strongest parts of the movie. I believe that movies are dependent on music and sound design in order to set the proper mood for a scene, and Steiner's music is admirable.

Unfortunately, I do have some complaints about the movie. Even by 1933 standards, the cast oftentimes seems wooden and flat, as if they were simply reading off cue cards. However, in their defense, I must say they weren't exactly given all that much to work with.

But I would be remiss if I didn't at least make mention of the cast's most well-known member. Many actors have at least one signature role that they will always remembered for. Anthony Hopkins has Hannibal Lecter, Robert Englund has Freddy Krueger, Christopher Reeve has Superman. And then there is Fay Wray, who has been forever immortalized as the woman that stole the heart of a savage beast. Wray's been dubbed one of Hollywood's earliest "Scream Queens" thanks to her appearances in thrillers such as The Most Dangerous Game and Mystery of the Wax Museum, but it is King Kong that made her a star. Sure, most of her scenes involve her either screaming her lungs out or standing around looking pretty, but Wray has a wonderful charisma that makes we the viewer want to follow her along for the ride. The image of Wray struggling to free herself from Kong's grasp has become one of Hollywood's most indelible moments, and it is perhaps that that has made her just as legendary as Kong himself.

King Kong resides upon a lofty perch, rivaled only by Godzilla as the greatest movie monster of all time. (In that regard, I guess it made sense when Toho produced King Kong vs. Godzilla in 1962.) Despite its outward appearance as an antiquated, outdated movie, King Kong remains an invaluable piece of movie history. In the seventy-three years since its premiere screening, the movie has lost none of the charm and magic that makes it so special. King Kong is among such movies as The Wizard of Oz and A Christmas Story on the short list of timeless classics that can be enjoyed by moviegoers of all ages in any decade, a spot that it most certainly deserves.

Final Rating: ****½