Last saturday I went to see King Kong with Rosario, and something happened I never saw before.
For whatever reason, we went at the 1:25AM session. I don't think I had ever been to one so late.
And then it lasted 3 hours. And it was almost the longest day of the year.
So when we left, at 4:30 AM, walking through a ghostly mall, it was dawn.
It's a small thing, but it was quite shocking :-)
The movie... she didn't like it and insists Naomi Watts is wearing, in one of the scenes, a Lurex dress, which couldn't possibly be the case in the 30s.
Me, I liked it quite a bit, perhaps my suspension of disbelief is not so easily taxed by textile issues, except for some serious moral trouble I got a day or so later.
You see, killing Kong on the Empire State building was right.
That damn beast had just stomped, thrown, smashed, chewn and swatted about 2500 people.
He was going all 9/11 on Manhattan, and just because he didn't feel like crushing one specific blonde (although he sure killed all her predecessors on the sacrificial girl job), we are supposed to feel sorry for him?
Cry me a river of giant alligator tears, I am not. I say we should bazooka the evil man-eating monkey, and put Denham in jail for reckless endangerment, along with all his accomplices.
AND he should lose his shirt (along with his theater bankrollers) in a civil suit to the family of the maori guy whose head got chewed by Kong, or Lumpy, the cook eaten by gigantic man-eating maggots.
At least in the original movie, the girl has the good sense to be scared senseless by the sight of a giant gorilla with romantic leanings.
Here? She laughs while they ice skate, I assume ignoring the blood stains all over the monkey's fur.