King Kong and 100

So I've gone to see King Kong. I'm not quite sure what to say about it.

So we'll do this.

Can you quickly adjust to Jack Black continuing to be Jack Black (a la School of Rock) with all the facial expressions and strong enunciation that implies?

Can you hold that up for the next three hours?

Really blatant tension between literary playwright types and the out of work vaudeville actresses: Do you dig it?

Are you happy when enormous primates are entertained by dancing, and then violence?

Can you pretty much ignore the tribe native to the mysterious island that's built a wall (inc. gate that Kong could, presumably, have smashed through at any given point) and that just kind of disappears after a while?

Can you pay attention to the screen through a solid hour of everything kicking everything else's ass?

Chloroform. Are you down with it vaporizing on contact with, well, anything?

Are you really into extended scenes with lots of bugs that are kind of unnecessary?

Do you like it when people are remarkably accurate with Tommy guns and airplane mounted machine guns?

Finally, are you ok with the explanation that, soon after its construction, it was possible to just walk the hell up to the top of the Empire State Building, stand there without being blown off by the wind or by the slight breeze that I imagine a 25 foot gorilla would create while he's falling?

If so, you'll probably enjoy King Kong. It's not something I'm probably going to watch in the three hour, seven minute block again, and I can't imagine I'll ever own it, but I wouldn't rule it out yet. It's entertaining. Meh.

Nothing else to say right now, and I need to get back to reading papers, but I thought I should point something out.

This post, right here, is the one hundredth post on Murphspot.

Hooray.