December 22, 2005

Worship the King of Kongs

Last night I went with my friend, Chris, to see King Kong. Chris doesn't get out much, as he has a little daughter, so this was a big treat for him. As usual I was distracted before the film started: One of those daft adverts popped up offering 2-for-1 film tickets for Orange customers. As I was taking this in, it occurred to be that it was Wednesday, I was an Orange customer and I'd just wasted six quid. It took me until Ann Darrow reached Skull Island before I'd recovered from this financial truth.

Now, this is a long film. I was in the auditorium for three-and-a-half hours - but I was prepared for this. I had carefully regulated my fluid intake throughout the day having been caught out in Lord of the Rings. No caffeine after lunch, and a quick trip to the lavatory during what I had calculated to be the final trailer. Unfortunately not everyone had taken as much care as me over this issue. Throughout the movie there was a steady stream of folk passing back and forth through the exits. What amazed me was the timing of these comfort trips. Some people took advantage of the kissing scenes, which I approve of, but others chose to leave just as it was obvious to anyone with even the most basic understanding of cinematic tempo that something major was about to happen! The cinema audience was reasonably depleted during the first dinosaur fight, many of those who missed that one missed the second dinosaur fight, and the remainder chose to walk out as Kong stood on top of the Empire State Building. 'Nothing much can happen here, they're just looking at the sunset, I'm just popping to the loo' and behind them the biplanes roar overhead as they disappear down the tunnel. Unbelievable. I had to restrain myself from grabbing people's sleeves and hauling them back.

I don't do star ratings for films, but I do have a sweaty-palm rating - mainly linked to the amount of vertigo in a movie. King Kong got a ten; I have never ever had sweatier palms in a film - as I left I was in danger of electriculting myself with my bike lights.

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