Nearly two generations ago, the world went ape over Kong, and the fascination with the King of Krunch has continued ever since.
With Kong now approaching his 60th birthday, the folks at Turner Home Entertainment-a company big on anniversaries; wait till you see what it does with ”Casablanca at 50”-have launched a crunch of their own: a gargantuan promotional campaign that`s as big a hype as Carl Denham`s ”Eighth Wonder of the World!”
That`s Denham the impresario who captures King Kong (Turner Entertainment/Radio Pictures, 1933, b & w, 100 minutes, closed captioned, $16.98) and brings him to New York. Beneath all the hoopla, this classic remains undiminished by a modern huckster`s hyperbole.
”King Kong” was one of the talkies` early successes, a perfect match of technological advances, sheer luck, script, cinematography, sound, music, special effects, pace, high energy and casting. Its sequels were as pale as Fay Wray`s face when she first glimpsed the great, love-smitten beast on Skull Island.
While a classic and wonderfully campy in places, ”King Kong” is still a horror flick, and parents would be advised to screen it for viewers younger than 12; ”King Kong`s” shock value still holds true.
Also, youngsters should be advised that the world was a less enlightened place in 1933 than it is now, which is why Wray, a mature woman, is usually referred to as a ”girl,” and women are cast into less-than-equal roles.
For example: Ann Darrow (Wray), heading off to the South Seas for her unknown rendezvous with the big ape, is told by the first mate of the S.S. Venture, Jack Driscoll (Bruce Cabot), that she has been a pain in the neck.
She says: ”Oh dear, and I thought everything was going so nicely.”
Says Cabot: ”Aww, you`re all right, but . . . but women, women just can`t help being a bother. Made that way, I guess.”
Kong was the talkies` first great attempt at bringing the fairy tale of
”Beauty and the Beast” to the screen. The tale was set down in its relatively modern version by Italian author Straparola in 1550.
In the film version directed by Merian C. Cooper and Ernest D. Schoedsack, impresario/adventurer Denham (Robert Armstrong)-a combination of photojournalist Martin Johnson and animal hunter Frank (”Bring `em back alive”) Buck-has heard of a great beast on an obscure island. He sees the opportunity for the film of lifetime, but alas he has no female star to play the beauty.
Enter Darrow, a minor actress down on her luck and trying to steal food to eat. Denham saves her from a petty-theft charge, feeds her and makes his pitch. ”What is it?” she asks.
”It`s money and adventure and fame,” shouts the excited Denham. ”It`s the thrill of a lifetime and a long sea voyage that starts at 6 o`clock tomorrow morning.”
Well, I ask you, what girl could resist that, and a free meal to boot?
When they eventually land on Skull Island, a mysterious ceremony is in progress: the preparation of a young virgin to be sacrificed as a bride for
”it.” Denham can`t resist the urge to film all, and is surprised when the natives spot him. The natives spot Wray, too, and kidnap her as a substitute virgin.
”It” turns out to be Kong, who takes a tumble for the comely blond and even gets to partially unclothe her in a poignant scene. He defends her against all kinds of prehistoric beasts. And when her shipmates steal her back, Kong follows and gets captured. Denham and his fellows can`t believe their luck.
”We`re millionaires, boys,” he shouts, as they truss up the great ape and float him back to New York, where he is put on display. Kong escapes, trashes New York, beats up an elevated train, climbs the Empire State Building, gets one last little squeeze off Wray and finishes the film in what is now movie folklore.
”It wasn`t their airplanes. It was beauty killed the beast,” rasps Denham in the fadeout.
Kong and the other creatures on prehistoric Skull Island wowed audiences in the `30s. Kong appeared to be between 50 and 60 feet high on the screen; in reality, the beast was a composite of six 18-inch puppets and clay figures. Closeups of Kong were made using a 20-foot head activated with wires and compressed air.
Wray`s endless screams, though, were the real thing; her squeal-to-spoken-line ratio must have been about 10-1.
Turner Home Entertainment sees big bucks in the big beast. The standard cassette, which has been remastered and closed captioned, has a microchip in its pack: ”Press Kong`s chest to hear him ROAR!” the pack advises.
A color-enhanced version-don`t do it; it will ruin Willis O`Brien`s special effects for the black-and-white film-is available for $16.98.
There is also a Kong-priced ”Limited Collectors Edition” for $59.98, which contains an additional cassette of behind-the-scenes looks at the original filming, three 35 mm film frames embedded in Lucite, and a theater poster.
