More Cultural Corner, Just quickly.
Gasp-!
Oh, Peter Jackson, you hold me safely in your directorial palm. I am terrified, grossed out, but then –wait! – I’m laughing my arse off, crying like a damn baby through the last 45 minutes of your new great-big-sprawling adventure movie. Safe, and not, like Naomi Watts in the hand of the beast.
Movies are ugly when no one really fights (for them).
You have spoiled me for adventure movies. I have to admit I was looking forward to seeing The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe more than King Kong, since I read those Narnia books eleven or twelve or three-hundred times between the ages of nine and 11. I was one of those overwrought youngsters who got so involved in the saga, I started looking for fricking Narnia both in closets and in the company of bratty cousins. (Hah! A Voyage of the Dawn Treader joke! I slay me.) See, it should have been easy to entertain the likes of me with Lion/Witch/Wardrobe; I came to the theater already under its spell – and I’m not even a Christian.
People who liked the movie point out that it was true to the C.S. Lewis book. True, but that’s about…it. A scene that required Lucy to walk from Point A to Point B did just that and nothing more. No love and care dedicated to camera shots or character development. About halfway through the movie, it had the kids still arguing with one another about whether to stay in Narnia or go back home to England; by that point in the book, their minds had been made up; they were dedicated to the quest. The movie should have taken that cue and held to this; it would have made it easier to make the audience care, too.
The bummer here is that Lewis gave the moviemakers so very much to work with. But the computerized animals looked chintzy. The character development was nil. Narnia and its visitors just didn’t feel real.
Ruined.
And this is all the fault of Peter Jackson, of course. With Lord of the Rings, he scrimped on nothing. Did you know that every last set-piece for those flicks is the genuine article? Handcrafted swords, pipes, clothing, archetecture, down to the butter-churn in the corner of Bilbo’s damn house. And the scenes were shot like that, too. Lovingly. Every moment lingered over and cared for. Although Lion/Witch/Wardrobe was, well, okay (the kids were certainly good actors), it failed on this count. It left Me-as-Viewer feeling cold because it looked like a kids’ movie, not a world. It did not bring to the viewing experience, what those beautiful, precious books had brought to my mind. (And I’m actually re-reading those books now. While yes, they *are* kids’ books, they hold up, too; they paint amazing pictures.)
And then there’s Kong. Sure, the first twenty minutes or so are kind of goofy. Jackson feels a bit out of his element with the scene of the heroine who’s told by a fellow vaudeville actor/father-figure that she mustn’t, mustn’t give up on her dream, no matter how hopeless, no matter how faaaar… Blah blah and blah. Let’s get to the adventure.
And we do. From the moment the movie’s little boat leaves New York with us inside, we are utterly caught up; beguiled; all that. I found myself sprawled across two theater seats, comfily munching popcorn, flinching at all the right scary parts, laughing in relief and then feeling so, so much for the best animated character ever to hit the screens: the giant ape – whom, to his credit, Jackson did not overly anthropomorphize.
Kong is so action- and drama- packed, I felt wrung out and spent when it was through. And that’s the way Jackson works: his action sequences are just a little too long; they exhaust you. His icky creatures are just a little too repugnant for simple mindless entertainment. His situations are just a little too wrenching to let you just observe and think about tomorrow’s dentist appointment. Remember the battle in Fellowship of the Ring that finally, finally ends with the showdown between Gandalf and the Balrog on the Bridge at Khazad Dum? Remember, oh, the plot of Heavenly Creatures?
Maybe that’s just what I needed now, having gone this entire year without having seen a single movie in the theaters I’ve cared much for. I was ready for passion.
Gasp-!
Oh, Peter Jackson, you hold me safely in your directorial palm. I am terrified, grossed out, but then –wait! – I’m laughing my arse off, crying like a damn baby through the last 45 minutes of your new great-big-sprawling adventure movie. Safe, and not, like Naomi Watts in the hand of the beast.
Movies are ugly when no one really fights (for them).
You have spoiled me for adventure movies. I have to admit I was looking forward to seeing The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe more than King Kong, since I read those Narnia books eleven or twelve or three-hundred times between the ages of nine and 11. I was one of those overwrought youngsters who got so involved in the saga, I started looking for fricking Narnia both in closets and in the company of bratty cousins. (Hah! A Voyage of the Dawn Treader joke! I slay me.) See, it should have been easy to entertain the likes of me with Lion/Witch/Wardrobe; I came to the theater already under its spell – and I’m not even a Christian.
People who liked the movie point out that it was true to the C.S. Lewis book. True, but that’s about…it. A scene that required Lucy to walk from Point A to Point B did just that and nothing more. No love and care dedicated to camera shots or character development. About halfway through the movie, it had the kids still arguing with one another about whether to stay in Narnia or go back home to England; by that point in the book, their minds had been made up; they were dedicated to the quest. The movie should have taken that cue and held to this; it would have made it easier to make the audience care, too.
The bummer here is that Lewis gave the moviemakers so very much to work with. But the computerized animals looked chintzy. The character development was nil. Narnia and its visitors just didn’t feel real.
Ruined.
And this is all the fault of Peter Jackson, of course. With Lord of the Rings, he scrimped on nothing. Did you know that every last set-piece for those flicks is the genuine article? Handcrafted swords, pipes, clothing, archetecture, down to the butter-churn in the corner of Bilbo’s damn house. And the scenes were shot like that, too. Lovingly. Every moment lingered over and cared for. Although Lion/Witch/Wardrobe was, well, okay (the kids were certainly good actors), it failed on this count. It left Me-as-Viewer feeling cold because it looked like a kids’ movie, not a world. It did not bring to the viewing experience, what those beautiful, precious books had brought to my mind. (And I’m actually re-reading those books now. While yes, they *are* kids’ books, they hold up, too; they paint amazing pictures.)
And then there’s Kong. Sure, the first twenty minutes or so are kind of goofy. Jackson feels a bit out of his element with the scene of the heroine who’s told by a fellow vaudeville actor/father-figure that she mustn’t, mustn’t give up on her dream, no matter how hopeless, no matter how faaaar… Blah blah and blah. Let’s get to the adventure.
And we do. From the moment the movie’s little boat leaves New York with us inside, we are utterly caught up; beguiled; all that. I found myself sprawled across two theater seats, comfily munching popcorn, flinching at all the right scary parts, laughing in relief and then feeling so, so much for the best animated character ever to hit the screens: the giant ape – whom, to his credit, Jackson did not overly anthropomorphize.
Kong is so action- and drama- packed, I felt wrung out and spent when it was through. And that’s the way Jackson works: his action sequences are just a little too long; they exhaust you. His icky creatures are just a little too repugnant for simple mindless entertainment. His situations are just a little too wrenching to let you just observe and think about tomorrow’s dentist appointment. Remember the battle in Fellowship of the Ring that finally, finally ends with the showdown between Gandalf and the Balrog on the Bridge at Khazad Dum? Remember, oh, the plot of Heavenly Creatures?
Maybe that’s just what I needed now, having gone this entire year without having seen a single movie in the theaters I’ve cared much for. I was ready for passion.
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posted by Alice at 5:08 PM
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