King Kong (2005)

Fresh from the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy, Peter Jackson remade “King Kong.” What a tall order. The 1933 Big Ape in the Big Apple classic is still a great joy despite its painfully awkward racism. (Let’s forget the 1970s remake ever existed.) This has the best attributes of the original -- spectacular visuals, a dame, a guy and strange creatures galore -– with creepier tones and nice a bit of satire.

The plot is the same: American peeps on a boat land on an island forgotten by time, encounter ancient natives and creatures galore, meet King Kong -- the ape the size of a cathedral -– and decide to bring him back to NYC. Those creatures, by the way, are dinosaurs that would kick the evolution out of the dino’s in “Jurassic Park.” A fight between Kong and three T-Rexes remains a powerhouse CGI show. (Nothing will ever top that awkward, creepy, fuzzy movement of the 1933 Kong in physical model form. I dig stop-motion more than any other animated format.)

Naomi Watts and Adrien Brody play the dame and guy; she a novice actress, he a left-wing playwright who’s having a career crisis. Both are clearly enjoying the uncommented upon wink-wink casting. See, Kyle Chandler plays a limp, narcissistic square-jawed WASP against Brody’s cool-under-pressure Jewish New Yorker. Seventy years ago, those roles would be reversed and offensively so. As a zany, greedy film director, Jack Black is himself, all ironic tics and eye-rolls. As well, Jackson can’t resist the tired cliché of having the only black character of significance sacrifice himself for his pals. Sigh.

Also, Jackson thinks longer is better, and pushes his “Kong” to a long three hours – nearly twice the length of the irreplaceable original. It’s monster big. This length includes trite discussions on “Heart of Darkness” and Great Depression economic commentary, all serious Debbie Downers. An hour could be deleted easily. That said, as with many a James Cameron film, this is damn fine cinematic eye and ear candy. B+

Predators (2010)

A marvelous opening: A body falls from the sky, thousands of feet in the air, and suddenly comes to freaked-out life. The man – it’s Oscar winner Adrien Brody -- panics, screams, flails his legs and arms, and then his hands find and yank the ripcord to the parachute on his back. Just in time. The chute opens, and the man crashes to the ground of a jungle. Boom -- the title card “Predators” screams across the screen liken an out-of-control fireball. To paraphrase another 1980s-born action franchise, "Yippee-ki-yay monkey farmer!"

This, I thought, is the bad-ass sequel I’ve long wanted for 1987’s “Predator,” the bloody way-cool Arnold Schwarzenegger action flick about tough men in a jungle, hunted by and hunting a massively big, killer alien with a squid face. (“Predator 2” was an absolute dud and is not relevant here. Thank goodness.)

Produced by Robert Rodriguez (“Desperado”) and directed by Nimrod Antal, “Predators” plays on that theme, with a heaping of “Guys, where are we?” intrigue from “LOST” and the classic “The Most Dangerous Game” short story. The “guys” are seven men and one woman, all military Special Forces, assassins, gangsters, mass murderers, war criminals and … a clean-cut surgeon from California, plucked from their lives and dropped on a jungle planet with several moons and a sun that does not move. Alice Braga, Danny Trejo and Topher Grace round out the cast.

In line with its first sibling, the characters die one-by-one as the aliens attack. I was stoked for some summer fun. But halfway through, this fire goes out of this hell ride. It stays out. In a tip to Marlon Brando’s crazed Col. Kurtz in “Apocalypse Now,” Laurence Fishburne (who starred in that war classic) pops by for a cameo as a stranded survivor gone native, and whacked. But here’s the deal: Larry’s fat. I mean I-think-the-SOB-ate-Keanu-Reeves-after-that-last-shitty-Matrix-movie huge, and his character just fails. He’s a joke. Then Rodriguez pops a character reveal so ludicrous and clichéd, I and the entire audience burst out laughing. The movie never recovers. I sat there bored.

As the moral-free “hero” of the piece, Brody might not be “Ahnuld” tough but he brings a keen intelligence to the story, and I dug Braga’s character, this is a warrior woman who has never seen high heels. High hopes dashed fast, that’s the score here, though. Final thought: “Predator” gave us two future U.S. state governors. Any political leaders here? Sit down, Topher. Sit down. C+

The Darjeeling Limited (2007)

Wes Anderson's films are love letters to quirky people and to their messy lives and the lovely music that serves as their soundtrack. In "The Darjeeling Limited," we follow three estranged brothers (Adrien Brody, Owen Wilson and Jason Schwartzman) as they reunite on an Indian train for a so-called spiritual journey. Each is equally messed up, and carries an addiction to one drug or another, or many.

Not as brilliant as "Rushmore" or Anderson's earlier films, it's still a winner as we watch the messy noise and emotions of people who are related, but who can't relate, come together. Wilson, who normally tires me, nails the role of the tight-wad control freak eldest brother who has had his face smashed in. (That Wilson has always looked like he's had his face smashed in is perfect.) He uses his laconic laid-book coolness as weapon, as if he naturally knows what's best for everyone around him, and is shocked dumb that no one can figure it out.

The film is funny, sweet and when it takes a dramatic turn, soulful. It makes anyone who doesn't talk to his own brothers, long for a train ride. As always, the music, sights and performances all are top notch. Angelica Houston, another regular player of Anderson, appears, as does Bill Murray in a briefly funny and pointless role. B+