“Kong: Skull Island” feels like Miyazaki with Guns

King Kong in at dusk

Kong: Skull Island is not a remake, or a reimagining, or a reboot: it's a riff on a theme.

That's one reason why it works better than that badly-lit human-interest Godzilla, which was more like an American instalment on the usual Japanese “Godzilla vs. ...” series. Doing its own thing allows Kong to break away from the comparisons that would otherwise be flung at it.

There are a few other reasons why it works, though.

First, it does not fuck around and puts its creature front and centre, instead of keeping it hidden under bad cinematography and layers of maybe-it'll-build-expectation finger-crossing. Second – and more importantly – it doesn't try to go unnecessarily grim-dark-adult and remembers to have fun.

It's a great example of how to make a new movie on a well-known theme.


Remakes are tricky things.

Actually, attempting a good remake is a tricky thing. Most remakes are nothing but quick cash-ins on brand popularity.

Of those few remakes that work, most are their own creature.

David Cronenberg's The Fly, for instance, did not attempt to remake the original. Instead, it used the core idea – a teleporter, an insect, an experiment gone wrong – to create a different movie. Instead of making a creature feature, he made a moving story about a couple in love being separated by a revolting disease.

John Carpenter's The Thing was another case. It might be cheating, since instead of remaking the 1951 movie it actually re-adapted the source novella, and did a much better job of recapturing its spirit. Instead of having a “better” vegetable-man space vampire, The Thing reeks of isolation, alienation and questions of identity. It also gets extra points for being the first time I saw a truly alien being in a movie, instead of some big-headed-guy-in-a-suit.

Both avoid the remake problem by wandering far from the original. They also steer clear from a fundamental issue: often the only reason for a remake is to easily bleed money from brand recognition, repackaging something for a new audience. For both The Fly and The Thing, the original was thirty years old. The directors were making a movie they wanted to make, not attempting to piggy-back on their predecessors. They were making something new.

Which is the key question a remake needs to answer: would there still be a reason to watch it, even if it wasn't tied to the original?


In the case of Kong: Skull Island, the answer is absolutely yes. It works well as an adventure movie, and it would work just as well if it wasn't Kong in it but some other gigantic ape.

But with Kong being such an iconic character, could such a movie escape its shadow?

I doubt it. In fact, I suspect such an attempt would be labelled a rip-off, or an off-brand version, or a potential lawsuit.

Want to have a massive primate batting helicopters out of the sky? Better own up and call it a Kong movie.

So Kong: Skull Island owns up to its parentage but chooses to blaze its own trail. It's not about a movie crew going to an island, finding the titular ape which then gets attached to the female lead, bringing it back to civilisation, and then getting it killed. It has some superficial elements in common with the previous Kong movies, namely: the isolated island, the bunch of humans who are in over their heads, a young woman, and an oversized simian.

But for starters, there's no way you're tying up this Kong and bringing it back to chain it to some stage. He's humongous, building-sized. You couldn't fit him on a ship, much less a theatre. Then what happens once the crew encounters Kong, and how things develop, is a whole 'nother story altogether.

And how things develop is into a fun, thrilling movie, in ways I won't spoil (even if the trailers mostly did), with John C. Rilley stealing the show. His Rip van Cheech is a perfect counterpoint to Samuel L. Jackson's Kurtz... er... Packard. I hope they don't make the mistake of bringing him back for an ill-advised sequel.

Kong: Skull Island plays like a timely parable, with hard-nosed tough guys getting snotty at something they attacked first and then trying to kill it, without even trying to understand its place in the world. When you combine the theme with the gorgeous scenery – Kong is photographed (rendered?) in spectacular fashion, big as the sun – the movie acquires a strange sense of wonder. It feels like Miyazaki with guns.

There are quibbles to pick. The heavy nods to Heart of Darkness and Apocalypse Now – down to characters named Conrad and Marlow – is one. I think all the Viet Kong references have been taken by now as well. There are some continuity goofs, like when we end up with about four times as many helicopters as there were on the ship, or day light that keeps changing color.

But they're minor things. The damned thing is fun. And it is its own creature.

Those are rare enough nowadays.