Matthew Percefull
Monster films were a staple of my youth. They were always playing in the background, on my parents’ hefty box TV (they avoided flat screens for a long time). If the film featured a giant monster of some sort, we probably owned it on VHS or DVD. Universal monster movies, cheap B-movie schlock, anything with Godzilla in the title (bonus points if VS was also in the title), and, of course, the original 1933 King Kong film.
I loved every giant kaiju and creepy monster, but it was King Kong that particularly enamored me. There’s the immediate, simple reasoning of “little kid like big monkey,” but I also think there was an empathy there that I didn’t really have for the other movie monsters. You don’t hate Godzilla, but you also root for the humans to overcome the destruction it’s causing. In King Kong, the humans are causing the destruction. The people become the invasive monsters to be feared. When King Kong is shot off the skyscraper at the end of the film, you don’t cheer. It’s a tragedy. This poor creature was kidnapped from his homeland and put in a cage, just to be deemed a dangerous monster by the same people who put him in chains. I obviously didn’t catch this subtext as a child. Between all of the dinosaurs and cool monkey scenes, I was probably distracted, but these themes are what carried the film to still be a favorite of mine today.
It isn’t just the classic 30’s version that I have a personal connection to. Peter Jackson’s 2005 reimagining was the first film I recollect seeing in theaters. To this day, I’m still chasing the high of that viewing. I’d always loved movies. I don’t remember a time when movies weren’t an important aspect of my life. They were how my family bonded and related to each other. It wasn’t until that trip to see King Kong, however, that I truly felt the escapist properties that cinema holds. For three hours, I wasn’t a kid in the theaters next to my parents; I was on Skull Island. I was fleeing from dinosaurs and fighting off grotesque bug creatures (of which I have occupied my nightmares). I still remember that feeling of excitement when I left the theater. I was buzzing. My parents hated it. I remember my mom complaining about how long it was. “I didn’t think it would ever end,” she still says about the film, even twenty years later, when asked about it.
I understand the critique now. As a busy adult, sitting down to watch a movie and seeing a long runtime can be intimidating and at times, downright off-putting. Not because you don’t want to immerse yourself in a cinematic experience, but because it can just be plain difficult to carve out the time without sacrificing sleep. As a child, though, it perplexed me to no end. What do you mean too long? A giant monkey is fighting three dinosaurs with Naomi Watts in its hand, and you think this should be shorter? I wanted more. I would’ve lived in that world if it were a viable option. I begged my parents for the DVD when it was released, and Peter Jackson’s King Kong immediately became one of my most rewatched films.
Fast forward twenty years later. I got the opportunity to see the 1933 King Kong on the big screen. I felt what I hadn’t felt in a long time, leaving that theater. That same ball of excitement was bouncing around inside my stomach. I felt like a kid again. I was back on Skull Island. I thought to myself, this must be the real thing. I only responded so well to the 2005 version because I was a child. There was no way that it had the same level of craft and attention to detail as the classic that I just rewatched. So, to test my theory, I fired up the 2005 King Kong the next day.
It might be even better than the original.
Peter Jackson’s King Kong updates and upgrades everything from the original film. It isn’t just the 70-year gap in technology that makes the difference either. The way that the film frames Kong is genius. It’s everything a remake is supposed to be. It isn’t a ham-fisted modernization project like the live-action Disney remakes. It’s not a nostalgia grab like the recent Jurassic Park sequels. It isn’t even a subversive film like the recent Scream reboots. It’s just as genuine as the 30’s film. There’s so much love put into everything from the set design to the dialogue. When you’re watching Peter Jackson’s version of King Kong, you’re watching what he saw in his head as a child when watching the seminal classic.
On this recent rewatch, I was taken by the intimacy of the whole thing. My memory for this film was mostly dedicated to the scary bug sequence and the dinosaur fights. These moments are still amazingly effective (some slightly dated CG aside), but they took a backseat for me during this viewing. What really grabbed me was the relationship between Ann Darrow (Naomi Watts) and the titular King Kong. The 2005 version gives both characters much more agency than they were allowed in the original. For one, Kong becomes a much more fully formed character. You can latch on to his wants and needs. We can see how hesitant and defensive his attacks are. He doesn’t want to hurt these people; he just wants them out of his home.
Naomi Watts’ Ann is much more of an actual character as well. You understand through her background why she might be so eager to join this expedition. She relates to Kong as something people gawk at and disregard. The 30s character isn’t much more than your classic damsel in distress. The moments of bonding and connection are replaced by a lot of screaming. This doesn’t take anything away from the original. Fay Wray’s performance is right in the pocket and adds to the speculative nature of the 1933 Kong. The 2005 version is attempting a softer, more empathetic telling. The execution of Darrow’s character and how she interacts with Kong help achieve this tone.
Peter Jackson masters the tonal control in this film. The original King Kong is already a mesh of so many genres. There’s horror, adventure, and romance that all complement each other perfectly within the package of a pulpy monster film. Jackson’s reimagining gives the story a much more epic and mythic scope in comparison. A much longer runtime gave Jackson the room to really give his Skull Island a more fantastical feel. Jackson had taken everything he learned from his previous work in horror and fantasy films and blended them with his passion for King Kong.
I’d forgotten how good Jack Black is as Carl Denham. On paper, the character of Denham in Jackson’s King Kong is not really all that different from the character played by Robert Armstrong in 1933. It’s the way he’s framed in the story that shakes up the narrative in a satisfying way. Denham in 1933 wasn’t morally righteous by any means. He also endangers his crew for a film. He also views Kong as a commodity rather than an autonomous being. Armstrong’s Denham is still a questionable guy but he’s much more of an eccentric creative. It’s all but confirmed that the character of Denham was essentially a self-insert for director Merian C. Cooper. So, while Denham does drive the conflict with selfish decisions, there’s a limit on how truly villainous he can be.
Jack Black’s Carl Denham is a full-on villain in 2005’s King Kong. He’s manipulative and careless. The deaths of his crew seem to excite him and fuel him rather than scare him off. Jack Black uses his comedic reputation to blind side the audience. You’re put in the same shoes as his crew members. “Oh, he’s just a funny little guy! What could go wrong?” you say before taking a spear through the chest for him. It was a genius piece of casting and Jack Black stood up to the challenge.
These two films are opposites to me in an interesting way. The 1933 film is stellar the whole way through, but that section in New York at the end is just on a whole other level. Similarly, the 2005 King Kong peaks for me when they are on the island. I referenced Peter Jackson’s horror bona fides earlier; there is no better showcase for this than his depiction of Skull Island. Jackson’s Skull Island is mean and uninviting. I wouldn’t want to visit either place, but if I were forced to choose, it’d be the island from 1933’s King Kong in a heartbeat.
As a lifelong horror fan, I find Jackson’s Skull Island endlessly intriguing. I love the contrast between how casual these monsters behave while causing some of the most brutal character deaths I’ve seen in a mainstream blockbuster of this scale. The New York stuff is still good in Jackson’s film (seeing that skyscraper moment with modern effects was always going to be cool), but the film does sort of lose what made it stand out once they leave the island. The third act sort of dilutes down to traditional remake territory. The two acts before it give Kong a different framing when he eventually goes down, so it isn’t completely beat-for-beat. I just wonder what sort of set piece Jackson could’ve cooked up had he not felt like he had to reference the source material so closely.
Remakes get a bad wrap, and for usually good reason. An unfortunate number of modern remakes, reboots and sequels aren’t made because they have a unique twist on the story. They’re made to cash in on a recognizable IP, or bait audiences with nostalgia. Peter Jackson’s King Kong is proof that this doesn’t have to be the case. Films like it are why I’m not anti remake. I think there are certain pieces of media that are ripe for reinterpretation. With enough care and passion, any property can be modernized successfully. It’s clear that Jackson not only had immense love for the original King Kong, but he also had something to say and a unique way to say it.
As we reach the twenty-year anniversary of the film’s release, it can be easy to go back and poke holes now. Sure, the CG didn’t completely hold up. Sure, tjhree hours can be daunting, especially for a genre film. Sure, Adrian Brody is phoning it in. Yet, when I think of 2005’s King Kong, I don’t think of these things. I think of how ecstatic I was leaving that theater. I think of the dozens of times I rewatched the 1933 original with my parents. I think of how important films have been in my life and the impact that a giant ape has had on that. Peter Jackson’s King Kong may not be a perfect film, but to me it is a perfect remake.
