It has been nearly a century since a 1933 film made “King Kong” one of the greatest monster movies of all time. Sadly, the King Kong which opened recently at Broadway’s Broadway Theater was not, to borrow from another critic’s comments, “as fun as a barrel of monkeys.” Although the giant, animatronic beast was by far the best element of this $35 million musical, the rest of the cast come off like chumps (or chimps, as the case may be).
One isn’t even introduced to the mighty Kong until about 1/3 through the first act. Kong’s initial appearance is also its most impressive: standing almost 20 feet tall and weighing 2,000 pounds, the great ape is powered by a massive team of 14 black-hooded puppeteers (including an alumnus of Pilobolus). Kong’s realistic, sad eyes seem empathetic to what the audience is feeling: a show that is all special-effects and little of the theatricality that could have lifted this Kong to new heights.
As the show opens in ever-bustling 1930s Manhattan, a young girl (Christiani Pitts) arrives in town and stalks the streets, suitcase in hand. Ann Darrow is trying to survive in between auditions, but things aren’t going well. She’s an early-era feminist who stands in soup lines and keeps warm by nursing a Coke in a diner. As the diner’s manager delivers a “fresh” remark, she smacks him, but good. Her moxie impresses another diner, Carl Denham (Eric William Morris), a would-be film director who is looking for a spunky, no-nonsense girl for his next project.
Since there’s no physical attraction between the two leads (as written into this version of the story), Denham comes off as a complete jerk. He offers Ann a chance to be a star, if only she’ll trust him enough to board a ship that’s headed out to sea. Desperate for a break, she agrees. Not even the ship’s captain knows where they are heading. About 10 minutes before running ashore, Denham delivers the news that they’ve come upon the mysterious Skull Island.
On shore, the crew is not greeted by tribal villagers as in the 1933 film. That would be a bit tricky in today’s politically correct world. No, this updated version features a floor-shaking appearance by the almighty Kong, who roars at the intruders before storming off with the production’s leading lady. One sad comment about this meeting is that the show’s producers were against the kind of blood-curdling screams one recalls from Fay Wray in the original film. Again, this feisty feminist roars and grunts when confronted by this huge, non-hairy creature (instead of a hairy backside, this ape wears a luggage rack-style apparatus on which Ann and – in some cases – the puppeteers climb from the toe to the back of the beast’s neck). The lack of screaming doesn’t allow the audience to suspend its disbelief as much as it might, and the puny “roars” emitted by Pitts are downright laughable.
The “escape to the jungle” sequence is one of the musical’s best. State-of-the-art technology propels Kong towards the audience in a way that is truly breathtaking. Lighting, sound, projections and other special effects create a seamless sequence that is undoubtedly the show’s highlight. Even the final scene, in which the ill-fated Kong scales the empire state building, can’t match this early highlight.
The moments of wonder are quickly replaced by a stagey denouement. Kong is highjacked and taken back to New York, where he is set to appear in Denham’s new stage show. Ann, meanwhile, finds her pal moping about in a warehouse during rehearsals. Kong is chained and morose. The dim-witted beast must take his cue from Ann to break free from his captivity. Since returning to Skull Island is out of the question, Kong scales the still-under-construction Empire State Building with Ann clinging to the aforementioned apparatus above his neck. With both arms free, Kong bravely faces the squadron of propeller planes that eventually gun him down.
Perhaps the show’s creators deserve a similar fate, but they sure created one heck of a monkey.
