"He was the mystery and the magic in their lives. In a year, that'll be an island of burnt-out drunks."
I'm going to put my reputation (such as it is) on the line here and publicly state for the record that I do not believe that
Dino DeLaurentis and
John Guillermin's King Kong (1976) is quite as bad as everyone says it is.
The film retells the story of the 1933 movie, updating it to 1976. The satirical screenplay by
Lorenzo Semple Jr, (
Flash Gordon, 1980) includes references to the mid-Seventies energy crisis, the rising concern over the environment, "dope," and even
Deep Throat! A young
Rick Baker plays Kong in a truly remarkable ape suit, but unfortunately the process work is so poor (even for the era) that his achievement is severely undermined.
The musical score for the film, however, by
Space: 1970 favorite,
John Barry (
The Black Hole, Starcrash) is outstanding and memorable, and
Jeff Bridges and
Jessica Lange both give very good performances, no matter how badly their characters are written.
Perhaps the reason I'm so generous toward the movie is because my own history with it is so fraught with disappointments - none of which have anything to do with the movie itself.
It started with a comic book advertisement for a
King Kong poster magazine, probably around February of '76, when I was eleven years old. It promised a "giant-sized poster" as well as articles detailing the history of Kong, from the original Thirties film (which I had not yet seen) to the forthcoming "blockbuster" remake. It cost $5, and I only got 25¢ a week in allowance. So I saved my allowance for a few weeks, and then begged my dad for an advance, which he grudgingly granted. Then I had my mother convert my change to a $5 bill, which I placed in an envelope with the filled-out order coupon, and then sat back to eagerly await my
King Kong poster mag.
You can see where this is going, right?
As the weeks passed, my eagerness metamorphosed into anxiety as I checked the mailbox every day and never found my copy of the magazine waiting for me. Finally, I went to my mother and expressed my concern, and that's when I was enlightened as to the dangers of sending cash through the mail. If she'd known why I wanted that $5 bill, she would have written me a check instead, but no - I was being all grown-up and buying something expensive (!) for myself, and hadn't told her why I wanted the money.
Flash-forward to December. All summer and autumn, I'd been seeing
King Kong on the cover of virtually every magazine that I (
Dynamite, Cracked) or my parents (
People, Time) read. The spectacular
John Berkey poster art was everywhere. My mother bought me an illustrated paperback novelization of the 1933
Kong film. There was no way I was going to miss
this cinematic event.
Except, of course, when you're twelve, you really have no say in such things.
My parents were going on a snowmobile vacation in Canada that Christmas week, and my sister and I were left in the care of my older cousin Jayne. Which was fine; we loved Jayne. She was an adult, but not "old," if you know what I mean, and she always seemed to "get" me and my interests. Before my parents had left, I had extracted from my mother permission to have Jayne take me to see
King Kong at the local 6-screen multiplex (the Waterville Cinema Center), and I got extremely excited about it, counting the hours and minutes until we'd get to the theater.
The day finally arrived. Jayne bundled my younger sister and I up in our heavy winter coats, scarves and hats and loaded us into the car. I was restless in my seat, eager to get to the show. When we arrived at the theater, Jayne noticed from the marquee that
Kong was - oh no! - rated PG.
PG.
Yeah, sure, it's laughable now, but this was 1976, and Jayne was uncomfortable taking 12-year old me and my 10-year old sister to a PG film without my parents' permission. Never mind that
I had permission - she was certain that my mother hadn't been aware of the film's "adult nature," and took us to see the only G-rated film at the theater that week. Even then, I was screwed - apparently Disney hadn't gotten an animated re-release out that year; instead, we were dragged to a showing of
In Search of Noah's Ark, a tedious, Sunn Classics religious "documentary."
As we know, deLauerentis'
Kong wasn't a blockbuster. It wasn't really a flop, either, but with the money that Paramount had spent promoting it, and the fact they'd had to turn over the foreign rights to the film to Universal (a story I'll tell one of these days), it fell far short of their
Jaws-like expectations. Fans of the original RKO
Kong - and most critics - derided the film for its tongue-in-cheek tone and its then-contemporary setting, and it garnered a generally bad reputation among fans of of genre cinema for decades to come.
I finally saw
Kong a year or two later, on a portable television on a rainy camping trip to Canada. The reception was poor, the image was small, panned, scanned, and B&W, there were edits and commercials... but I
finally saw it. Of course, I've seen it many times since, and over the years my appreciation of the film has risen and fallen with my perspective. These days, I tend toward liking it.
The 1976
Kong is not a classic. It's not even a particularly
good movie. But I would argue that there's a lot in there to appreciate,
and for those of us who remember the era, it's a pretty good time
capsule of what the world was like in the mid-Seventies.
