‘And lo, the beast looked upon the face of beauty. And it stayed its hand from killing. And from that day, it was as one dead.’

He stood alone on the forecastle of the hulking SS Dog, an indistinct figure lost in the fog and choking oily breath of the steamer’s churning engines that swarmed about him. Then, as the bow of the ship punctured the dam of haze that encircled the lapping periphery of Python Bay, Mr. Burden first set eyes upon the Island. The startling diorama that emerged from the ether was a Mesozoic landscape that rose thousands of feet from the thrashing surf. Upon the dramatic skyline, brutal volcanic vents brooded, their mantles splashed in a covering of verdant green blankets that swept down onto bare mineral crags and an arcing belt of fine sand at the oceans brink.

The Captain had done well to reach dry land, for vicious currents whipped up by monsoon winds had left the island inaccessible to many other explorers, its approach made treacherous by jagged rocks and a system of shallows and biting reefs. This last stretch of surging saltwater amounted to the culmination of a 15,000 mile journey to the far western reaches of the ‘Ring of Fire’, to the centre of the Indonesian archipelago and a small land mass nestled between the islands of Sumbawa, Flores and Sumba. The island offered a fascinatingly preserved snapshot of prehistory- a land of dry tundra fringed by luxuriant vegetation, with primordial mist-filled valleys with their own microclimates and mysterious inhabitants. Sultry mangrove swamps and dense monsoon forests echoed with the calls of uncataloged fauna and uncharted peril.

The year was 1926, and a wealthy young adventurer and documentary filmmaker named W. Douglas Burden was in search of monsters. His mission was simple- he was to capture his quarry and deliver it to the New York Zoo. In order to accomplish this task he would recruit a handpicked team of adventurers including the grizzled big game hunter F.J. Defosse, an expert on the jungles of Indo China, Doctor. E.R. Dunn, a biologist and his attractive young wife.

Wait…this all sounds rather familiar doesn’t it? Well, it should do, because this real life expedition inspired the making of one of cinemas greatest motion pictures- King Kong.

The Island in question was Komodo, and Burden was in search of its indigenous dragon, a surviving representative of Indonesian megafauna and truly a primeval beast in a primeval setting. An account of this expedition was personally recounted to Merian Cooper, a brash film producer and war hero who would later go on to cement his legacy as producer of Rio Grande (1950) and The Searchers (1956). He and his partner, Ernest Schoedsack, conjured up the idea for a truly monstrous motion picture drawing inspiration from Burden’s adventures and the time they had shared filming wildlife documentaries on location in Asia and Africa. Rumour has it that Cooper originally intended for Kong to be played by a real gorilla, which would actually be filmed fighting a Komodo dragon. One can only speculate about what might have happened to the movie or RKO for that matter (which was facing bankruptcy), had Cooper executed his original ghastly plan.

It would be one Willis O’Brien, a former marble-cutter, prizefighter and cartoonist who would bring Kong to life. In 1914 O’Brien devised the stop-motion process whilst trying to devise a way to animate the figures of boxers that he loved to fashion from clay. His obsession with visual effects and trick photography would lead him via the groundbreaking movie adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Lost World (1925) to act as “Chief Technician” on the 1933 classic. It was from this previous work that Cooper ‘borrowed’ much of the material for his film. O’Brien studied gorilla behaviour and movement to create his uncanny characterization of Kong in addition to the performances of professional wrestlers to choreograph the battle sequences. His eighteen-inch high models, painstakingly animated frame by frame via a complex system of swivels, sleeve and ball joints breathed life into foam rubber, cotton and rabbit skin to create a screen legend. Tragically, the unforgettable monster that O’Brien delivered to the screen would be nothing compared to the one that stalked him in real life- in the same year that King Kong was released, his wife shot and killed their two sons before turning the gun on herself. She survived the ordeal but succumbed to cancer shortly afterwards. At least the legacy of O’Brien’s work would live on through his pupil, the equally talented Ray Harryhausen. It is also satisfying to note that deep into the age of CG wizadry, two of this years top releases boast stop motion animation: The Corpse Bride and Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit.

The final piece of the jigsaw was the cast, led by Fay Wray, Robert Armstrong and Bruce Cabot. Cooper famously told Wray that she would be sharing top billing with ‘the tallest darkest leading man in Hollywood’. Apparently her reaction at discovering that this wasn’t Clark Gable was interesting to say the least. Armstrong, who had a knack for playing sports and showbiz promoter type was perfectly cast as Carl Denham. Cabot was a staple of RKO and would have a career that finished with an appearance in 1971’s Diamonds are Forever.

I won’t insult your intelligence by elaborating on the plot of the film itself, if you’re an X-Realms type then you will have no doubt seen it numerous times. If you haven’t, then the DVD re-release has arrived at just the right time and you won’t get spoiled for the imminent remake. I would prefer to look at the bigger picture and the forthcoming Peter Jackson remake. Before we do this, I think it would be fun to examine the subtext of King Kong, or indeed ask, if there is one at all? Is it just a ‘straightforward’ action movie as Merian C Cooper insisted, or is there more to be gleaned from its fantastical plot? Glossing over the obvious beauty and the beast fable, these are just a few of the more interesting ideas:

As some have suggested, is Kong the Caliban of Shakespeare’s the Tempest, a physical manifestation of the ‘pure Id’ of Carl Denham (as echoed in the equally fantastic Forbidden Planet) or perhaps a representation of the African American, enslaved and transplanted from his homeland for the purposes of exploitation? Maybe Cooper and O’Brien intended to make a statement about the cost of ecological destruction on the path to technological mastery? Some have even postulated that Carl Denham is none other than a heavily veiled representation of the then newly elected President, Franklin D. Roosevelt. Whichever level you choose to watch the original Kong on, from popcorn munching on a Saturday night to a detailed analysis of its themes and characters, it never fails to deliver.

In order to understand the impact of the original Kong we need to understand the age in which it was released. 1933 was a year in which another Monster was stalking the earth, his dark shadow even eclipsing the light of the cine-projector and plunging the German film industry into shadow. Just days after the opening of King Kong at Radio City Music Hall, Fritz Lang would accept an invitation to the German Ministry of Propaganda and politely decline a drink from Goebbel’s poison chalice before secretly fleeing to Paris. A large scale Exodus of creative talent would flee the grip of the third Reich to find refuge in Great Britain, the U.S.A. and France.

In America Franklin Delano Roosevelt would be inaugurated as President just two days after Kong first scaled the Empire State Building. The country was in the grip of the Great Depression and by January 11,000 of the United States’ 25,000 banks had failed. Construction of the Golden Gate Bridge had begun in San Francisco Bay and on January 30th he first instalment of 2,956 episodes of the radio show The Lone Ranger was aired. This was an uncertain age, a time of great political and social upheaval where both heroes and villains wore masks and everyman starved in the gutter as great technological marvels and horrors took shape above them. The events of the next few years would shape the world for decades to come.

We can only imagine the impact of the movie on a cinema-going public accustomed to the Marx Brothers, Johnny Weismuller and the ghostly apparitions of James Whale. The movie was met with unprecedented wonder- the bleeding edge special FX, sensational action and touching love story captivated the public in a way never seen before. King Kong was huge, in just about every possible way.

And to fast-forward to the present day, this is Peter Jackson’s problem. He really faces an impossible task if he is to match the impact of the original- how can he hope to deliver a movie experience to the public in 2005 that can generate the excitement of its thirties antecedent?

You have to acknowledge that he has paid deserved respect to the original with nice little touches like it being set in 1933, the same year the original film was released and the little idiosyncrasy of the T-Rex possessing a scientifically incorrect extra digit like O’Brien’s model. However, we are a jaded and spoilt public who have seen Spielberg’s T-Rex and hundreds of digital Zero fighters bomb the hell out of Pearl Harbour. We’ve watched Gollum simultaneously wrestle a pair of homosexual midgets and his conscience and witnessed a space battle of such dizzying complexity that the leads are very nearly lost in its intricate digital canvas. We may have already reached the point where investment in CGI technology will be forced to conform to the law of diminishing returns. I doubt that at this stage Jackson and WETA can deliver the groundbreaking slam-bam visuals in the action sequences to raise the bar significantly beyond the level set by other recent blockbusters. Notice though, I said ‘in the action sequences’.

So where does this leave the 2005 incarnation of our favourite oversized primate?

Actually, it leaves me hoping that Jackson has invested as much time in characterization of his hirsute lead as he has done in making sure every scar, wrinkle and hair are in place. I believe that this will be the making or breaking of King Kong. Surely if Willis O’Brien could breathe life into our noble savage and grace it with a pathos and subtlety of performance that belied its primitive construction, the nerds at WETA with an unlimited binary box of tools at their disposal can produce something outstanding. If Jackson’s Kong is to truly be the ‘Eighth wonder of the World’ the wonder will be in the details, not in the massive saurian battles of Skull Island or at the melee 1200 feet above Manhattan. If we are able to feel empathy for the great ape and see the reflection of our most base, human emotions in its fearsome gaze, then Kong will once again win our hearts and our cash.

Come December I hope and expect to be amazed, but more importantly, I hope to be moved.

Posted by Elgar in Commentary, Movies • Add to del.icio.us Add to Digg