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Source: LA Times
King Kong
It was the monkey who made a
filmmaker out of Peter Jackson. His return to Skull Island promises a
character study, a surprising love story — and all the rampaging
dinosaurs $150 million can buy.
By John Horn, Times Staff Writer
Compared with his work as an
Oscar-winning director and the filmmaker behind the most popular trilogy
in movie history, Peter Jackson's first attempt to remake "King Kong"
was by any measure pretty amateurish.
Jackson painted the Manhattan skyline on an old bedsheet, constructed
the Empire State Building out of cardboard and pinched his mother's
shawl to craft the giant gorilla's fur. It didn't look like much,
Jackson admits, but then again he was 13 years old.
If filming "The Lord of the
Rings" was Jackson's cinematic passion, remaking "King Kong" has
been his lifelong obsession. For as much resolve as the
now-43-year-old Jackson exhibited in adapting J.R.R. Tolkien's books
about hobbits and elves, the Kiwi director has shown even more
perseverance in retelling the legendary beauty-and-the-beast story.
In fact, he essentially owes his career to the 1933 original "King
Kong": Had he not seen it, Jackson says, he might not have become a
filmmaker.
"In a sense, this is more important to him than 'The Lord of the
Rings,' " says actor Andy Serkis, who played Smeagol and Gollum in
the "Lord of the Rings" films and in "King Kong" will play Lumpy the
Cook and, with some digital assistance, the titular giant gorilla.
Besides his adolescent effort — "I still have some of that footage,
somewhere," the director says — Jackson came within weeks of filming
"King Kong" for Universal Pictures in 1997. But the production was
derailed by the studio's cold feet, an about-face that left Jackson
devastated, his production team in tears and the director's future
uncertain.
A global blockbuster helps heal all wounds, though, and soon
Universal (with a new management team) came to New Zealand on bended
knee, asking Jackson to please, please reconsider revisiting Skull
Island.
What else could a director who owns the original film's brontosaur
and pteranodon say? This was the movie he believed he was born to
rework, and with the third and final "Lord of the Rings" film nearly
behind him at the time, he was more equipped than ever to tackle it.
So in early 2003 it was agreed. Before he would film Alice Sebold's
ghostly novel "The Lovely Bones," before he would film Ian
Mackersey's aviatrix biography "Jean Batten: The Garbo of the
Skies," before he completed "The Return of the King," Jackson
promised Universal that "King Kong" would be his next movie. To
clinch the deal, Universal said it would pay Jackson, his partner
Fran Walsh and screenwriter Philippa Boyens a combined $20 million
to direct, produce and write the remake, with Jackson and Walsh
receiving a share of the film's gross revenues. "Obviously, there's
a lot of criticism and apprehension about remaking any film, and it
has the potential for pitfalls that are greater than 'The Lord of
the Rings,' " Jackson says during a short break on the set of "King
Kong," whose filming is now more than halfway completed. "But it's a
dream come true. That's the reality of it."
FIRST, THEY NEEDED A BOAT
Moviemaking perfectionism can take unusual forms, from actors
packing on pounds to play drunks to screenwriters marooning
themselves to compose starvation stories. In Jackson's case, his
craving for "King Kong" authenticity can be found floating in
Wellington Harbour, and it still smells a little like tuna.
Sitting in the water is the boat Jackson and art and set director
Dan Hennah selected after an international search for the perfect
ship to play the S.S. Venture. The Venture is the boat upon which
"King Kong's" hustling filmmaker Carl Denham (Jack Black), its
reluctant playwright Jack Driscoll (Adrien Brody) and the
movie-within-the-movie's desperate actress Ann Darrow (Naomi Watts)
travel to a mysterious Indian Ocean island, where a giant gorilla
just might roam.
Some directors would have picked any old trawler, but Jackson wanted
exactly the right 1930s boat, the one with the proper rivets and
hull shape. He finally found it, but the winning nautical contestant
from Tonga carried one small complication: Its hold was filled with
frozen fish. So Jackson purchased the boat — tuna and all (the fish
was gone by the time the production took possession).
That quest for verisimilitude governs much of the $150-million
remake's thinking (the film was remade previously in 1976, but that
Jessica Lange version was a flop). Written with Walsh and "Rings"
collaborator Boyens, "King Kong" is both a reverent tribute to the
initial film and an energetic reworking of its main themes.
Jackson approached the original Ann, Fay Wray, about making a cameo.
Although Jackson said the actress was interested, she died before it
was possible.
Rather than filming on location in jungles, Jackson is shooting
almost all of "King Kong" inside, as his "Kong" predecessors did 72
years ago. So in place of traveling to a real rain forest, Jackson
and his crew manufactured a highly stylized one indoors. "That's
about wanting the look of the original 'Kong,' " Jackson says.
Even as it pays tribute to specific scenes in the original,
Jackson's version nevertheless will make numerous departures, adding
spectacular chase sequences involving rampaging dinosaurs and
emphasizing more of the love story between Ann and the big primate.
"What Peter and Fran and Philippa have been able to do is create all
of these nuances that never existed," Brody says. "It's not just a
giant gorilla and a damsel in distress."
When you also consider Jackson himself, the remake begins to exhibit
autobiographical strains as well.
Jackson's career at various early turns mirrors that of original
"King Kong" co-director Merian C. Cooper, and just as Cooper's
collaborator Ernest B. Schoedsack's wife, Ruth Rose, was enlisted to
rewrite the 1933 screenplay, Jackson's companion Walsh worked on the
remake's script.
Cast as the plot's movie director, Black can't help but remind one
of Jackson without a beard. The director discounts the resemblance,
but when the production was announced in a New Zealand news
conference, Jackson and Black were not seated beside each other
because of their physical likeness.
And then there's Black's character of Denham, who in the original
was a loose composite of Cooper and Schoedsack. In Jackson's
telling, Denham is a driven filmmaker who will stop at nothing to
get his movie made. Defeat is only momentary, and Denham must
capture Kong on film above all else. Sound like any other director?
Sure, Denham has a lot less talent than Jackson, and yes, the
character in actual fact is based more on a young Orson Welles. "But
he's got vision, and he's got tremendous ambition. He wants to make
the greatest film ever made," Black says.
"You can't really ignore that I am playing the director of the film
and I'm watching Peter all day on the set, watching the way he
directs," Black continues. "It's not the same guy at all, but there
are parallels you can't ignore."
GUNS AND DINOSAURS
If a dinosaur falls in the forest and it's not really there, does it
still make a sound?
It's a real-life issue Jackson's actors are facing on a November day
inside Wellington's Stone Street Studios as the director guides the
Venture's crew through a dense jungle set.
"Remember, it's 1933 and a lot of you don't know what dinosaurs are,
unless you've seen 'The Lost World' several years earlier," Jackson
says to the assembled actors, referencing a 1925 movie whose
creatures were crafted by "King Kong" technician Willis H. O'Brien.
He then instructs the cast how to react to the thundering steps of
dinosaurs, all of whom will be created in post-production.
"Everybody who has a gun just starts blasting," Jackson says. "It's
one of those mob things, so it's important that everybody fire in a
different direction."
A slimmer Jackson (he's recently shed nearly 30 pounds) picks up a
megaphone and starts counting down, his amplified voice representing
the impending plant eaters. Once one of the dinosaurs is fatally
shot in a panicky barrage of bullets, Jackson describes its
collapse. He urges his actors to express shock as the beast finally,
yet invisibly for now, falls at their feet, its crash to the earth
supplied by Jackson.
John Sumner, who plays one of Denham's camera assistants, pantomimes
stepping over the dinosaur, but he ends up forgetting where the
digital creature will be positioned in postproduction. "Let's try
that again, John," Jackson says in good cheer. "You've walked
through his legs, I'm afraid."
Even with Jackson's "Lord of the Rings" know-how, making a movie of
this scale at times resembles chain saw juggling, especially since
Jackson has relatively little time to finish all the film's
complicated effects before its Dec. 14 debut. As Sumner prepares for
another take, Jackson settles into the upholstered chair from which
he directs and in rapid order examines computer tests of Kong's
digital fur, offers notes on that day's production diary for
"Kong's" Internet site (www.kongisking.net), and reviews a video
feed from another stage, where Brody is running as fast as he can on
a treadmill, to simulate Driscoll's escape from other dinosaurs. "In
many ways, 'King Kong' is a more ambitious film than 'The Lord of
the Rings' was," Jackson says.
While the 1933 filmmakers employed then-novel techniques such as
stop-motion animation and rear projection, Jackson has an array of
high-tech procedures to bring his 25-foot gorilla to life. Visual
effects supervisor Joe Letteri is creating as many computer effects
for "King Kong" as he and others did for all three "Lord of the
Rings" films.
Cooper and Schoedsack may have longed for Kong to leap from New York
rooftop to rooftop. In Jackson's production, it can happen.
"The story is such a compelling story that rendering the story with
the new technology opens it up to a whole new interpretation,"
Jackson says. The first film, Jackson says, is a classic but "a
product of its time."
In the lobby of Weta Workshop, where scores of artists and
technicians are working on everything from "King Kong" tree branches
to wigs for the Skull Island natives, stands a model of Kong
wrestling three tyrannosaurs. The miniature dates from the film's
1997 incarnation and it serves as a reminder of how close Jackson
came to making the movie then.
It may sound silly in retrospect, but the movies that torpedoed
Jackson's "King Kong" were the quickly forgotten "Godzilla" and
"Mighty Joe Young." Universal was concerned that there was only so
much audience interest in tales of oversized rampaging beasts.
Combined with Jackson's poorly received film "The Frighteners" and
Universal's concerns about Jackson and Walsh's screenplay, the
studio decided to cancel Jackson's remake.
"As much as I like being angry at [then Universal studio chief]
Casey Silver for killing the film — which was literally the blackest
day in my entire career — in hindsight you can't but be grateful it
didn't happen," Jackson says. "And I don't even like our old script.
I don't think there's a single line of dialogue that is the same."
So perhaps "King Kong" was best left for later, much like Jackson's
first effort when he was 13. "It would have been pretty tough to do
it eight years ago," visual effects supervisor Letteri says. "Well,
let's put it this way. It's pretty tough to do it today, so it would
have been impossible eight years ago."
Contact John Horn at Calendar.letters@latimes.com.
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The King
is Dead. Long Live the King
Article
by: Sean
www.creaturescape.com
There are
obviously many obstacles to overcome for
Peter Jackson in the new production of King Kong, but none is more
sticky than accurately portraying the social climate of the time
without being offensive to a modern audience. This is a serious
concern for any film maker, even one so admired as Jackson. Remember
that audiences waited for more than a decade and stood in line for
days to see Episode 1 of the Star Wars saga, and yet Lucas was
criticized vehemently and immediately for his racial stereotyping of
blacks, Asians and Jews. Just mention Jar-Jar Binks and see what
happens. Besides being annoying, the character
who might have been seen as comic relief in a 1940s serial was openly
dispised by even the most casual viewer. Consciously or unconsciously,
we don’t want to see the Mista Stepnfetchit anymore.
What you
are about to read is the first installment in
a three part article on the original King Kong and the
socio-political problems Peter Jackson faces in his
remake if he wants to honor and preserve integrity of the original.
The first two parts address racism and sexism in the original film—as
well as the threads that counter those attitudes. The third
installment is essentially a little advice for Kong’s new interpretor—a
solution of the problem if you will.
I am
compelled to say at this point that I love Kong,
even though I recognize its racist and sexist
attitudes. I watch that film at least twice a week—it
is often the last image I see in my day-- King Kong
changed my life; it re-wired my brain by showing me a world rich and
wonderous, even in black and white.
So, it should be understood as you read this article
that what follows is both an acknowledgement of the
unquestioned bigotry and sexism of the film, and at
the same time, a critique of multi-cultural
revisionism that is everywhere in film today. How can Jackson possibly
make a film that is believably set in the 1930s and still not espouse
the tacit attitudes toward women and people of color? The solution is
to look carefully at the original for some persistent strains of
enlightened social virtue despite the prejudices of the time.
Race
and Racism in the Original King Kong
When you
are a kid watching the 1933 version for the first time, you certainly
don’t see the racist
attitudes of the film—and to some degree, this is a
testament to the basic nature of this film (or any
film) that has virtues despite its cultural
shortcomings. I’ve had the good fortune to meet Ray
Harryhausen a couple of times and ask him about King Kong, the film
that inspired his career. Commonly, he points out that the first
version of King Kong is so potent precisely because it is a fantasy—a
story designed to capture the imagination, and as a depression era
film, be a spectacle against the grim daily realities of daily
existence. It is a straightforward but subtly layered tale that opens
the imagination and ultimately asks us to consider who the real
monsters of the world are—the apes or the “men.”
In many ways, this is a beautiful film.
Now,
having said that, there is no way a thinking
adult in the 21st Century can look at this film and
not see the prejudiced and arguably downright racist
attitudes. The first indication is when Denham is on
board the Venture finally letting the captain and
first mate know what he is up to. He tells us that
Kong is something “no white man has ever seen.” To the modern ear, a
tremendous weight of racial judgment lumbers behind these words—almost
certainly more than was conscious in the writers. At the time, there
was no reason to question Eurocentric thought. In the tradition of
European “discovery,” something becomes meaningful and “real” only
after it has been confirmed
in the sight of the “white man.” Ironically, the
mountain gorilla itself is a prime example, since this
species was well known to local populations of
Africans but not accepted by science until the early
1900s. (Columbus “discovered” America—which is a good thing for the
natives who had no idea they existed yet!)
Denham’s
bigotry reflects the bigotry of white America of the time and presents
a problem for Peter Jackson, who clearly has a great desire to make
the new King Kong a believable period piece to some degree. Lines like
that may now only be spoken by villians, not heros. However, in the
1930s very few questioned that white culture was inherently superior
to non-white culture, which made comments like Denham’s not only
acceptable, but practically invisible. To put it another way, this
line is “realistic” because Denham’s line is not an attempt at
anything. It is the way even educated people spoke.
If the
racist attitudes of King Kong were limited to
one line, it could simply be removed and Denham’s
character developed in a different direction.
However, other examples of an underlying bigotry
quickly appear. However, when Denham is getting the translation of the
ceremony from Captain Eaglehorn, he snidely mentions that “blondes are
scarce around here.” His tone and body language is condescending and
implies that there is no way a black woman would ever be preferred
over a white woman—even by a monster. (More ambitious readers of the
film may be inclined to suggest that his enthusiasm for witnessing the
ritual sacrifice is a further disregard for the natives based on race,
though Denham is self-possessed enough to risk anyone’s life for a
good picture.)
Even more
blatant examples follow. For instance,
Charlie the cook (who gets no billing in the first
film and is listed as “Chinese Cook” in Son of Kong)
tells the captain in broken English—“Crazy black man been here!”
Charlie, an object of derision himself, clarifies that indigenous
black culture is madness to the “civilized” man. As the film
progresses, the natives are described as “scared rabbits” in the face
of gunpowder, and when Kong attacks there are two scenes that critics
often point out as particularly abrasive images—when Kong grinds the
native into the mud repeatedly and when he clamps him in his teeth
(though they rarely acknowledge a similar scene in New
York with white hors devours). If we keep in mind
that in 1933, there were still ten to twelve lynchings
annually, these images might not have evoked horror, but rather,
laughter or worse yet, enthusiasm, in a substantial portion of the
audience. Kong himself, especially in the facial close ups, is said to
evoke an image of blackfaced minstrels.
However,
there are many indications that the natives
are not to be dismissed so easily. For one thing, the
tribal chief, played by Noble Johnson is a powerful
and admirable presence on screen. In fact, this is
the best human performance of the film. Johnson gives us a man who has
no idea he is “inferior.” He is not particularly impressed with these
white people and never once does he cower or subjugate himself. Even
the witch doctor, who may appear to be a stereotype to many viewers,
wants these men gone (or dead)--they have no business at this ceremony
and he is emphatic.
The chief wants the “golden woman” as the ultimate
gift for his god as well. Naturally, her value is
greater than “six of his women”—not because whites are better in his
mind, but as Denham says, “blonds are scarce.” In other words, the
chief knows his god has never seen anything like her either, and he is
willing to go to great lengths to secure her for him. (And considering
that Kong does not pop her in his mouth, the chief is right.) It is
fair to argue here that the white-black problem is not in his mind
because he has never known slavery and any inter-racial fear fantasies
rolling around in the heads of the writers or audience are clearly not
in this character.
Another
important thing to consider is that the story
itself is essentially parallel to the African-American
experience and if anything, the plot line casts racist
assumptions into question. To clarify, let’s look at
the basic story. White men come to the jungles, bully
the local population and leave with Kong in chains.
He has great power, but in the world of the white man (a. k. a.
America), he is degraded, shakled, and victimzed. Lost and threatened,
he must fight to
attain freedom. In his attempts to escape his chains,
there is tremendous upheaval, and ultimately, there is no way for Kong
to return to his past. In the end, he dies.
Sound
familiar? This is essentially the African
American cultural experience. Ripped from a home
land, “Brought here in chains for your amusement,”
Kong’s desire to be free and rise to the top (the
Empire State building being the great symbol of
“civilized” economic, structural and artistic
achievement in its time), he is shot down as a danger to the city.
Now, the
mitigating factor to all this is that Kong,
who is “Carl Denham’s Monster,” is really the most
admirable and heroic figure of the film—far more than Jack who really
hates women and wants Ann as a possession, or Denham who is driven by
greed (or at bare minimum, ego). In the end, both of those men would
hold on to their “prize” to the bitter end; however, Kong, who could
take Ann with him to the unforgiving concrete of the Big Apple, is
instead
thoughtful and relinquishes her. To put it another
way, Kong is a victim in the film, but he is also more
humane than any of the humans.
Thinking
about it in that context, it is possible to
understand that there is another message about race here that saves
the film. The chief and Kong are both dignified and powerful,
intelligent and ethical. If we interpret them as savages, we will miss
the other message entirely.
When the
film ends, and “beauty [kills] the beast,”
perhaps there is a still a resident Eurocentric
arrogance, but the beast is more noble by far than the conquering men.
The racist attitudes are there
(because they are part of 1930s culture), but they are not the
dominant message. Kong’s humanity, in fact, openly challenges,
withstands and out-distances theworld of “civilization.”
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