King Kong

Before Peter Jackson figured out how to make a 100 minute movie into a three hour epic, spending $197 million more in the process, there was the original 800 pound gorilla. Literally. Except in reality he was 18 inches. But to audiences Kong was the 8th wonder of the world. Combining a fantastic story with (for the time) ground breaking, wildly innovative special effects, "King Kong" offered screen excitement unlike anything audiences had ever seen before. Spawned from the minds of real life action/adventure seekers Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack, Kong gave audiences what its creators most wanted in life, something daring, something different, something scary, but ultimately, an amazing ride. Filmmakers to this day are still clearly influenced by this film and its "roller coaster ride" mentality; Peter Jackson is an obvious fan, but directors like Steven Spielberg, whose films "Jaws" and "Jurassic Park" owe much to the monster-on-the-loose ground work laid down by Cooper and Schoedsack. And of course special effects as we know them today would not be the same without the efforts and innovations of Ray Harryhausen, whose stop-motion animation seems crude today, but whose work first inspired Jackson, Spielberg, George Lucas and others to step behind the camera. Why is Ray Harryhausen important? Because "King Kong" is what first inspired him. The line from the work Cooper and Schoedsack were doing in 1933 to what the biggest directors in Hollywood are doing today is clear, "King Kong" is arguably one of the most important Hollywood films ever made.

As "King Kong" begins, movie impressario Carl Denham is planning his most ambitious, and mysterious, picture yet. He assembles a crew, not a film crew, but a hardened crew of sailors, and an arsenal fit for a small army, but does not tell them where they are going or what he hopes to find. Denham also needs a beautiful young woman, who he finds in Ann Darrow, a starving actress. After setting sail, Denham reluctantly reveals that they are searching for Skull Island, somewhere deep in the South Pacific, where he has been told that an ancient race of people live, and who worship some type of primitive god. The captain, crew and Jack Driscoll, the dashing first mate, are all skeptical of the hyperbolic Denham, who swears they will find something the likes of which the world has never seen before. However their skepticism turns to wide eyed belief when they land on the mysterious island, shrouded in a thick fog, and witness what appears to be a tribal ceremony. After the natives steal Ann from the ship, the crew grabs their machine guns and stun grenades, and Denham his camera, and they sail back onto the island to rescue Ann. What they find is what Denham promised: something the world has never seen before. Summoned by a great gong, Kong emerges from the jungle, unleashing a terrifying scream and frightening the crew as well as the natives, who retreat to their huts. Ann, who has been tied to an altar screams (it is surprising Fay Wray did not lose her voice, she spends virtually the entire second half of the movie screaming at the top of her lungs), before being carried off by Kong deep into the jungle. The crew follows, but are attacked by a series of monsters, and finally have their own confrontatioon with Kong, who disposes of many of them by flinging them into a chasm. While Kong is battling the crew however, Ann nearly falls victim to a Tyrannosaurus Rex, and it is here, when Kong comes to her rescure, that we realize there is more to the giant ape than just a bloodthirsty beast.

Kong rescues Ann from the monster, defeating him in a spectacular fight that had to take months to shoot using the painstakingly tedious stop motion technique, but is subsequently saved by Jack. Following Ann back to the beach Kong is knocked cold by one of Denham's stun grenades, and is then brought back to New York. Denham does not need a movie, he has the star attraction in the flesh. Unfortunately Kong is not ready to be a sideshow curiosity, and on his "opening night" he breaks free of his bonds, smashes up the theater and an elevated train, before grabbing Ann and seeking refuge at the summit of the Empire State Building. The ending is the stuff of movie legend, and rightly so. The pathos Cooper, Schoedsack and Willis O'Brien, the model Kong's chief maipulator, evoke is stunning, as we realize Kong is in love with Ann and has taken her to the highest point he can find to escape humanity. Thus we feel iuncredibly sorry for him when biplanes cut him down with their machine guns, peppering him with bullets until he falls to his death. It is to note that before he does, seemingly with the last of his fleeting strength, Kong delicately puts Ann down, making sure she is safe. After crashing onto the street stories below, Denham remarks the film's final irony, "Twas beauty killed the beast." With that immortal line, "King Kong" would be ushered into cinema immortality, and its legacy is one still felt to this day, as Universal is banking big time on the might of "King Kong".

Oklahoma!

Straight from Broadway, Fred Zinneman's (perhaps the oddest choice to direct a deliriously corny and gleeful musical ever) 1955 production of "Oklahoma!" began the successful collaboration between the dynamic music/lyricist team of Rogers and Hammerstein and 20th Century Fox. While the duo and the studio had made 1945's "State Fair" ten years prior, that would prove to be the only book and score the two ever did solely for the screen. Their far more illustrious and lucrative creations began unspooling in cinemas in 1955, starting with "Oklahoma!" and continuing the next year with "Carousel" and "The King and I", followed by "South Pacific" in 1958 and their blockbuster "The Sound of Music" in 1965. While "The Sound of Music" is arguably their finest acheivement, few people remember that that property was derived from its stage incarnation; the movie is so fondly remembered today. The other four stage-to-screen productions were all Broadway smashes, and are still revived to this day based on their success, not the latter success of the film versions. However, I find three of these films worthy of the praise bestowed upon their original Broadway productions (only "South Pacific", which fell victim to an over-enthusiastic cinematographer who experimented with a few too many filters, fails to entertain to this day), and of them, "Oklahoma!" is the best.

The story is almost rudimentary: happy-go-lucky cowboy Curly is in love with the innocent but stubborn Laurie. She spurns him and decides to go to the box social with surly ranch hand Jud Fry. That is essentially it. The movie takes place almost completely over the span of a few hours, from the moment Curly strolls on screen, singing "Oh What a Beautiful Morning", to later that day at the evening's box social. In between Curly and Laurie squabble, Will Parker returns from Kansas City to find his sweetheart, Ado Annie, involved with a scheming "peddler man", and Aunt Eller keeps a firm rule over all proceedings. The film's actual dramatic undertone is the menacing presence of Jud Fry. Betraying its otherwise harmless and happy exterior, Jud is an intriguing character to the story, one whose motives are at first thought to be sympathetic and pitiful (he desperately loves the beautiful Laurie, and is heartbroken when she regrets accepting his invitation as opposed to Curly's and leaves him humiliated and alone on the dusty highway). However he quickly loses the audience's sympathy when he turns his despair into violent revenge, attempting at first to skewer Curly with a deadly toy the peddler man unknowingly bestows upon him, and then attempts to burn Curly and Laurie alive, setting a haystack they are on ablaze. This all sounds serious and rather grim, and while it remains consistent with all of Rogers and Hammerstein's musicals, which are renowned for their family friendly scores and plots, in reality, they all possess darker subplots, such as Jud's violent revenge, the Nazi threat in "The Sound of Music", Billy Bigelow's abuse and death in "Carousel" and the plight of the young lovers in "The King and I".

Not to portray "Oklahoma!" as something its not, however, the show is still overwhelmingly light and fun. Curly and Laurie's flirting and fussing is entirely harmless and charming, the couple's love for each other obvious from the very beginning. Curly teases her with the number "The Surrey With the Fringe On Top", and "Laurie cautions him about "people talking" with her number "People Will Say We're In Love". In the slightly sillier subplot, Will Parker, having just returned from Kansas City with the $50 he needs to convince Ado Annie's father that he's "worth something", almost loses her to the peddler man, Ali Hakim, who ultimately shows his good nature by outbidding Will for Ado Annie's picnic basket, enabling Will to keep his money, but insuring himself of a "three day bellyache". Both couples united by the film's end, the entire cast breaks out into the film's titular anthem, "Oklahoma!", which lacks some of the knockout punch it delivers seeing it live on stage. However, the film has some things going for it that no stage production ever could. The technicolor is gorgeous, the locations (oddly enough, the small frontier town of Nogales, Arizona, still more convincing than the Fox backlot) are a welcome alternative, and the cast is exceptional. Fox apparently thought so too of their star duo that they brought them back the next year for their adaptation of "Carousel" (only after Frank Sinatra dropped out, but who wants to argue?). While the stage experience is usually superior, a film as special as "Oklahoma!" is one to seek out, at greater convienance and less expense.