The King is dead (again)...

I saw the new and improved King Kong today, don't ask me why, it just seemed to call to me. I loved the first one, shuddered through the Jeff Bridges/Jessica Lange version, which ended on the top of the now defunct World Trade Center, and how sad is that. Peter Jackson got kind of carried away with adoring close-ups of his admittedly attractive stars. Even Jack Black looked great glaring away in that menacing way he has. And oh, Naomi Watts is stunning, even those two rabbity front teeth we glimpse over and over and over again through her parted, trembling lips. The sets are amazing. I especially loved the New York of the '30s, clogged with all those tin lizzies in gridlock traffic jams. Skull Island was a roller coaster ride of monstrous creatures, including the bugs, which really made me sink down into my seat. Kong was more animated, and much dirtier than he had ever been in previous versions. Caked and matted, even. After a brief moment of wondering how they got him home in the hold of that tiny freighter, we got to watch him rip up quite a few unlucky New Yorkers before his dizzying climb, this time, once again, to the top of the Empire State Building, Naomi in tow. That was a feat, carrying her in one hand and scaling the vertical face of the building with the other. Those scenes, high in the air, Naomi in this satin slip of a dress in the dead of a New York winter and not even shivering, our heroine, terrified me. She kept climbing up to where Kong was perched, and I knew she was going to wind up a flat furry spot on the pavement far, far, far below. Like, why did I care, 2 hours and 58 minutes later? Did I think it would end differently? It didn't. Faithful parody of the first version, though the captain of the freighter was a hottie, and worth the whole movie for moi. Great movie to see so you can say you saw it. Again.