There are few cinematic properties that would seem as monumentally foolhardy to remake as Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack’s immortal King Kong from 1933, but famed producer Dino De Laurentiis was undaunted when he struck a deal with Paramount to do just that in 1975. The most expensive film ever made at the time of its release, the remake was written by Lorenzo Semple Jr. (The Parallax View, Three Days of the Condor) and directed by John Guillermin (The Towering Inferno), who turned in an old-school adventure spectacle in New Hollywood duds that, despite its stubborn reputation as a flop, proved financially successful and has endeared itself to a certain generation of film fans.
Fred Wilson (Charles Grodin), a pompous executive of the Petrox Oil Company, launches an expedition to land on an undiscovered island in the Indian Ocean hidden by a perpetual cloud bank. Setting off from Indonesia, he and his crew hope to claim what they believe is a massive untapped source of crude oil, a notion that paleontologist Jack Prescott (Jeff Bridges) hopes but fails to disabuse them of after stowing away on the expedition’s vessel. Soon into the journey, Jack spots a raft in the distance, carrying a shipwrecked wannabe actress named Dwan (Jessica Lange) who, though somewhat confused as to how she wound up in her current predicament, is excited to join the expedition. Upon reaching the mysterious island, the characters find much more than rich deposits of raw fuel, as the place is home to a tribe that worships a giant deity known as Kong, and they want Dwan to be the monster’s bride.
The film follows the broad strokes of the original, but far from the nostalgic period style of Peter Jackson’s 2005 remake, this is a bitingly modern take on the material, even by today’s standards. Set against the backdrop of the decade’s energy crisis, this King Kong is about commerce from the get-go, jettisoning the original’s filmmaking plotline to focus squarely on corporate cruelty and man’s greed. Here, the great ape isn’t captured so that he can be put on display as a mere attraction; he becomes a mascot and gimmick (complete with a cheesy, ginormous crown) for the Petrox corporation. Human indifference or outright destructiveness toward the natural world have always been an important theme in any treatment of King Kong, but they’re the tar-black, devastating core of Guillermin’s film, which lands an extra gut-punch 45 years on in a world quivering in the growing shadow of climate change.
The film is also remarkable for how it at least attempts to directly address the ugly colonialist strains of the source material and its racial politics. “This is no longer the 19th century, you can’t just walk in and grab their island,” Jack says of Fred’s attempts to drive the natives away, and the script makes it clear that the theft of Kong from his homeland isn’t only an injustice that’s been done to him, but also to the flesh-and-blood people who venerate him. That’s the bare minimum, but compare it with Jackson’s better-regarded version—namely its brutally racist depiction of the denizens of Skull Island—and this 45-year-old film is practically woke.
At its best, this King Kong is an affecting retelling of a beloved story through old-fashioned craft: a John Barry score filled with simmering mystery and adventurous thunder; large-scale set pieces; Lange and Bridges at the height of their combined, flaxen-haired beauty; and makeup effects legend Rick Baker playing the big guy himself (in a suit co-designed by Carlo Rambaldi). When looking at the film in totality, its unfair characterization as vapid camp and its ostensible failure to live up to the ballyhoo surrounding it fall away. It would be a cliché to say that they don’t make ‘em like this anymore, but, suffice it to say, despite its modern tone, King Kong, with its lavish budget and old-school special effects, was likely the last of its kind when Star Wars shot out of hyperspace to reinvent the blockbuster one year later.
Image/Sound
King Kong makes its North American Blu-ray debut in a two-disc set that includes both the 134-minute theatrical cut and the extended 182-minute television version with both DTS-HD 5.1 sound and a restored theatrical DTS-HD 2.0 stereo track. Though there’s scant information on the theatrical transfer, the big draw for longtime fans of the film, many of whom first encountered it during its two-night NBC showing in 1978, is the TV cut, which, though presented in an all-new 2K scan from the original internegative, does display some persistent problems that Shout! Factory readily addresses with a pre-titles statement. Presenting the film in its original 2.35:1 aspect ratio makes for some awkward moments of reused shots that were never intended to be seen, and others with loose or totally absent audible dialogue. This is less bothersome, though, than the constantly variable visual noise, which occasionally drops away entirely (revealing a crystal-clear image) before again enveloping the entire screen like the fog engulfing Kong’s island. There’s no doubt that, as Shout! Factory states, this transfer was taken from the best available elements, but the theatrical version, as presented here, remains the superior film both in terms of visual and narrative strength.
Extras
As previously mentioned, King Kong’s extended TV cut is the big draw here. Adding an additional 46 minutes to the runtime and trimming explicit language and violence, these changes don’t actually alter the core narrative in any truly measurable way and slow the pacing to a crawl. Still, for longtime fans and for those nostalgic for this cut, hats off to Shout! Factory for going the extra mile and giving audiences an intact transfer (complete with commercial fadeouts!). Disc one contains a bevy of new special features, including a wonderful audio commentary with film historian Ray Morton (author of King Kong: The History of a Movie Icon) and new interviews with Rick Baker, actor Jack O’Halloran, assistant director David McGiffert, production manager Brian Frankish, and many other behind-the-scenes talent. Disc two contains only one special feature, but it’s a good one: a King Kong panel discussion held at the Aero Theater shot in 2016, featuring Morton, O’Halloran, Baker, cinematographer Richard H. Kline, and Martha De Laurentiis. The only ding is that Jeff Bridges, Jessica Lange, and Charles Grodin did not contribute in any way to this release.
Overall
The Dino De Laurentiis-produced remake of King Kong is a beautifully aged 1970s gem, uniting old-fashioned spectacle and contemporary concerns.
Since 2001, we've brought you uncompromising, candid takes on the world of film, music, television, video games, theater, and more. Independently owned and operated publications like Slant have been hit hard in recent years, but we’re committed to keeping our content free and accessible—meaning no paywalls or fees.
If you like what we do, please consider subscribing to our Patreon or making a donation.
