(host) The original 1933 "King Kong" had a massive impact on cinema and the modern monster trope.

It's firmly placed as one of the top classic Hollywood films of all time.

Ever since that first appearance, he has returned to popular culture again and again.

But every time Kong appears, he's followed by questions, many of which ask if the sexist, racist story that first introduced the famous monster can or should be retold.

Kong in the 21st century is informed by a complex legacy of the numerous creative interpretations.

To a degree, Kong has served as an exaggerated fantasy response to real-world tensions that ultimately reveals that fear comes from a lack of understanding.

The gorilla's ability to inspire either fear, hope, or empathy ultimately comes from the viewer's understanding of the world, which is perhaps why he is both god and monster.

But throughout the almost endless variations of Kong spanning almost a century, there are some things that remain the same.

[majestic music] I'm Dr. Emily Zarka, and this is "Monstrum."

Since 2000, there have been no less than four major motion pictures depicting Kong on the big screen, not to mention a handful of television shows, parodies, and even a musical.

2005's "King Kong" attempted to honor the original film while updating its social constructs and racial commentary for a modern audience.

The director, Peter Jackson, took the story back to its original plot of the 1933 film, but he also changed the mythology of Kong, included a more diverse cast, and populated the island with inhabitants that reflected a more post-colonial perspective, at least that was the goal.

In Jackson's version the Black Indigenous inhabitants of the 1933 film are replaced by an ethnically-diverse population descended from the survivors of a shipwreck hundreds of years before.

Faced with the dangers of the island's dinosaurs, they must rely on the ruins of a lost civilization to survive.

It's also made clear that the current islanders worship Kong as a symbol of bravery and strength and offer him human sacrifices.

The sacrifice in the 2005 film does have a couple significant differences from previous films.

Yes, Naomi Watts is still the White, blonde, barely-dressed damsel in distress, -but unlike the 1933 Ann, -[woman screams] she fights back against her bonds.

She also wears her own nightclothes rather than being forced into problematic Native attire like the 1976's sacrifice, Dwan.

Let's talk about the '70s remake for a second.

Following the 1970s uncensored rerelease of the 1933 film, attention in Kong's story surged, leading to the 1976 film, the first remake.

The updated plot follows an oil company expedition and ends with Kong's death, not at the iconic Empire State Building but instead at the newly-built World Trade Center.

Dwan and Kong's relationship is more erotically coded and sexually suggestive than the original film, reflecting changing sexual politics and the feminist movement.

Themes of corporate greed and the '70s energy crisis add a veneer of modernity.

But any attempts to diminish the inherent racism in the original film fall short.

The Natives, who live on an island in the middle of the Pacific, are coded as African and given the archetypal "noble savage" treatment.

Kong is captured by greedy white Americans and placed in a cage, a crown on his head mocking his supposed nobility.

Jackson's film might be a step in the right direction, but only slightly.

Jackson's island inhabitants are perhaps the most violent of the bunch, literally foaming at the mouth and shown as less than human.

But it's Jackson's re-imagining of the massive gorilla that provides the largest leap forward.

The film takes a softer tone with Kong, depicting him as a lonely battle-scarred anti-hero, not a raging, violent monster.

The film was released in the wake of 9/11, and it could be argued that Kong was a symbol for America's national identity, which was particularly plagued by xenophobia at the time.

This director's cut, for example, includes a scene in which a military officer refers to Kong as a "foreign interloper threatening America that must be dismembered."

Listen up.

This is New York City, and this is sacred ground.

You hear me?

It was built for humans by humans, not for stinking lice-infested apes.

(host) The take-no-prisoners attitude of the military warns against a similar mentality in American patriotism.

The rhetoric feels especially cruel and over-the-top in contrast to the empathetic Kong, who looks out over the New York City horizon at sunrise and mimics the sign for beautiful before the aerial barrage kills him.

You could say that's where any social commentary stops.

Jackson stated he didn't want the movie to be anything more than fantasy, saying, "We didn't want to overinvest it "with too much baggage, too many messages and themes and weighty stuff."

But it is about the weighty stuff.

There is historical context to the symbolism of Kong that can't be ignored, and trying to disavow any cultural commentary, it deprives the film the opportunity to fuel positive change.

More recent 21st century film contributions to Kong lore actively engaged with this idea.

Heavily inspired by "Apocalypse Now," 2017's "Kong: Skull Island" is set after the Vietnam War and clearly evokes the devastating conflict in its imagery and portrayal of the military.

Another significant change?

It's the first time the Islanders aren't portrayed as violent.

They approach the visitors with caution, but also with kindness and hospitality.

And it's also the first time their devotion to Kong is because of his benevolence.

He actively protects them from the other threats of the island.

-[monsters growling] -He is their savior.

Gone are the filmmaker and the actress, their characters replaced in favor of scientists and a veteran war photographer, removing the themes of Hollywood entertainment and exploitation.

When the group arrives in helicopters deploying seismologist equipment, that very much resembles bombs, I might add, to prove a Hollow Earth theory, Kong responds.

Their first encounter with the giant gorilla is not influenced by religious practices or human sacrifice, but in Kong's defensive reaction to the interlopers.

They are basically bombing his home and he's understandably not happy about it.

We see his reveal in pieces, first just as a hand swatting a copter out of the sky, then in a long, sweeping close-up of his hair before a tight shot of his face.

Finally, we see a full-body silhouette as he stands before the sun, helicopters framing him in a seeming attack formation.

It's clear this is a movie about war, and Kong is not the aggressor but the victim.

If anything, he's the island's defense against colonialism and military pillaging.

During a boss battle, the chains that Kong must break out of were not placed by humans this time; they are remnants from a ship.

And in a profound moment, he uses the chains he breaks to fight the monster.

"Skull Island" marks another important shift-- the elimination of the romance between Kong and a female character.

Brie Larson's character, Mason Weaver, checks the white blonde boxes of the franchise's predecessors, but it isn't her beauty that attracts Kong.

When he witnesses her trying to help another injured animal, he begins to view her with respect.

Their mutual admiration becomes an example for the other heroic protagonists, who ultimately join her in coming to his aid.

Oh, and another biggie?

Kong gets to stay on Skull Island, his home.

[dramatic music] [hands thumping] [Kong growls] The portrayal of Kong as an empathetic protector of humanity continues in the next iteration of the ape, 2021's "Godzilla vs.

Kong."

Fans, especially those of the kaiju genre, know this is not their first meetup.

Back in the 1950s, the post-war popularity of the 1933 "King Kong's" re-release contributed to the creation of Gojira in Japan and led to a demand for more strange beast films.

Toho, the movie studio behind Godzilla, struck a deal with RKO to license Kong.

They quickly capitalized on the opportunity, sizing Kong up even more to become a formidable opponent for Godzilla.

In 1962, "King Kong vs. Godzilla" was a box office hit in Japan.

Now, in the 21st century, the two kaiju are pitted against one another in a largely sci-fi-driven plot that continues the Skull Island story.

Godzilla and Kong duke it out before rightfully deciding that possessed robots are a bigger threat to everyone's existence and they band together to fight Mechagodzilla.

Even though the production and filming of this one largely occurred before 2020, I choose to optimistically read it as a movie that promotes compromise and connection, key lessons following the pandemic, especially if it means taking down power-hungry monsters and robots.

2024's "Godzilla x Kong" continues the "we're all in this together" vibes, but ultimately, any goodwill is overshadowed by the introduction of a bondage narrative.

Kong's long-lost brethren are shown toiling in subterranean Earth, Hollow Earth's even deeper level, under the violent control of Skar King.

Skar King has also enslaved another ancient titan, who he treats as a steed and sort of prizefighter.

Given Kong's problematic racial history, I have serious issues with the plot, to be honest.

Even the return of my favorite kaiju can't fully save it.

Although there is something to be said about the mechanization subplot.

Kong is able to successfully fight the biggest baddies because of human technology.

It's a nod to a respectful marriage of machine and nature that benefits all life on Earth.

The release of the main Kong films each followed a major catastrophe: the Great Depression, the Cold War, the 1973 oil crisis, the terrorist attacks of 9/11, the global financial crisis of the 2010s, the COVID-19 pandemic, and the Israel-Hamas and Ukrainian Wars.

All these periods marked times of great political and social turmoil.

The things that remain the same with King Kong are the biggies.

King Kong effectively mirrors contemporary societal fears and anxieties, portraying themes of exploitation, environmental destruction, and the consequences of unchecked power, demonstrating the gorilla's ability to remain relevant and resonate with modern audiences, so long as we remember his past.

The film was released in the wake of 1911, the global financial crises of the 1910s.

1910s?

Is it the hair?

Please, do whatever you need.

(crew) I think we just wanna do it like...