Kong Is Just So Wrong...

Peter Jackson Musta Been Hitting The Bong!

I finally got around to watching King Kong last night, and reached a startling realization. At this point in my life, I'm willing to trade a thrill-a-minute rocket ride for some decent acting and coherent dialogue. It was about an hour too long, and while it was worth the money I spent to rent it (about half what it would cost to see in a theater), that's 3 hours of my life that I'll never see again.

Good stuff: The ape. Naomi Watts. 1930's New York.

Stuff I have a problem with:

Rifles and subguns using hush-a-boom propellants. Where can I get .45 Auto and 8mm Mauser ammo that sounds like a suppressed .22?

No Ape Splat. Look, let's not sacrifice physics for a tidy ending. When you drop a 25 foot ape off the tiptop of the Empire State Building, it's gonna scatter gorilla goo from Chinatown to Central Park. Ever see David Letterman drop watermelons off the Late Show rooftop? Same deal.

Jack Black. Dude. Go back to doing Tenacious D. Your mugging for the camera got old way back in High Fidelity.

Headhunters. Diversity is beauty! Let's take a moment to reflect on the rich and spiritual culture of the Skull Islanders. All done? Good. Now let's grease every last one of those filthy mofos and render 'em down into Monkey Chow.

The bugs... OK, I could handle the giant mosquitos. Ditto for the giant crickets and crawdad/silverfish things. The centipedes creeped me out, but not too bad. The trapdoor spider only showed its legs, or I might've shat myself. Those fanged penis worms, though... that was just wrong!