Lions and gorillas and blockbusters, oh my!

The late film critic Gene Siskel once opined that instead of remaking good movies, Hollywood should expend its time and money on new versions of bad movies. He had a point. Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho was perfect in every way, and instead of burning up studio funds with a pointless remake, Gus Van Sant should have tried to churn out a watchable version of, say, Showgirls or Hudson Hawk.

• HELPING HAND: Ann Darrow (Naomi Watts) finds a protector in King Kong (Photo: Weta Digital / Universal)

The 1933 version of King Kong is another movie that should have remained an untouchable. As I wrote a couple of weeks ago when it debuted on DVD, "This goes beyond being a mere staple of film history: In much the same manner as The Wizard of Oz and It's a Wonderful Life, it long ago entered into the national consciousness as an enduring part of our heritage." In short, this is a movie not to be trifled with, and filmmakers looking to pilfer from the past would have been well advised to tamper with lesser titles.

Of course, when the scent of blood money is in the air, the capitalists of cinema will overturn any sacred stone for the sake of a quick payoff. Such was the case when producer Dino de Laurentiis feebly remade King Kong in 1976 -- this campy outing was a box office hit with no artistic merit whatsoever, a movie made for profit rather than out of passion.

Peter Jackson's new version of King Kong (***1/2) is a beast of a different sort. When Jackson states in interviews that the original 1933 version was the picture that inspired him to become a filmmaker, I believe him. And when he further claims that his stab at this classic "beauty and the beast" scenario is meant as a homage to the original -- and not merely an attempt to milk a proven formula -- he's probably more sincere than the usual hacks who make this claim when stealing from the Golden Age catalog. The new Kong will make a fortune, and it saddens me that it will be viewed by scores of people who won't even give the 1933 take a passing glance because they lack the imagination to immerse themselves in the cherished world of vintage black-and-white cinema. But that's their loss and certainly not Jackson's fault. He's done his part by treating the property with love and respect, and, much to my surprise, his Kong is a -- pardon the pun -- roaring success.

Does it improve on its landmark predecessor? Of course not. In fact, I'd be hard-pressed to think of any area in which it's better than the original -- even the occasionally crude effects from 1933, crafted from blood, sweat, tears and tiny models, stir the soul more than the CGI trickery on view here. But on its own terms -- meaning as a holiday multiplex filler geared toward 21st-century sensibilities -- this new interpretation gets the job done in often spectacular fashion.

In essence, Jackson has taken the 103-minute original and stretched it out to a 190-minute running time. The three-act structure remains intact, however. The first portion of the film details how visionary -- some would say opportunistic -- filmmaker Carl Denham (Jack Black), presented here as a cross between Orson Welles and John Huston, elects to head out into uncharted waters to make his epic adventure movie, recruiting a struggling actress named Ann Darrow (Naomi Watts) to serve as his leading lady. Denham is all business, meaning that Ann's romantic escapades arrive in the form of Jack Driscoll (Adrien Brody), a sensitive screenwriter with the heart of a poet but the steely resolve of an action hero (Brody's soft-spoken scribe is a far cry from Bruce Cabot's macho seaman in the original).

The second portion charts the sea voyage and the arrival on Skull Island, whereupon Ann is quickly co-opted by the local natives for the purpose of serving as a human sacrifice to the great ape known as Kong. But instead of viewing her as an hors d'oeuvre, Kong immediately takes to the blond, blue-eyed beauty, carrying her off into the thick jungle with Driscoll and his shipmates in hot pursuit. Initially terrified by the hulking beast, Ann soon realizes that Kong is her protector against prehistoric creatures in this lost world, and they develop a unique rapport that exists somewhere between that of man and woman and that of human and pet.

The climactic third act finds Kong captured and taken to New York, where, billed as "King Kong, The Eighth Wonder of the World," he becomes the featured attraction in Denham's lavish theatrical production. Naturally, Kong escapes and goes on a rampage, with his fury only subsiding once he's reunited with Ann. From there, it's a quick jaunt up the Empire State Building and an even quicker trip back down.

To suggest that Jackson's King Kong is overlong is to state the obvious. There's an absolutely worthless subplot involving a young member of the ship's crew (Billy Elliot's Jamie Bell), and one can't help but conclude that it's only here because Jackson had rejected Bell for a Hobbit role in his Lord of the Rings trilogy but promised him a part in a future project. And among the many cliffhanger-style adventures occupying the mid-section, there's a dinosaur stampede sequence that eventually wears out its welcome -- besides, Steven Spielberg already treated us to these sights in Jurassic Park.

For the most part, though, the movie's pace never lags, and even the lengthy expository sequences move quickly, thanks partially to some lively humor and a couple of in-jokes for fans of either the original Kong or Jackson's New Zealand splatter flicks. A sign in the ship's cargo hold that reads "Sumatra Rat Monkeys" is guaranteed to draw a smile from anyone familiar with Jackson's Dead Alive, and Kong aficionados will appreciate the moment when Denham learns that Fay won't be available for his picture because she's across town shooting a movie for Cooper. (Fay Wray starred in the original King Kong for producer-director Meriam C. Cooper.)

Despite a hefty $200 million budget, the film's visual effects aren't as seamless as one might expect, particularly when it comes to the dinosaurs. Yet the FX team comes through when it matters most: Kong himself is a visual marvel, with an expressive range of emotions sweeping across his face as needed (Andy Serkis, who provided the movements for LOTR's Gollum, does similar duty here for Kong), and the final battle between Kong and the fighter planes is one of the movie year's defining spectacles. And fortunately, the actors don't get lost amid all this CGI wizardry: Jack Black's turn as showman Carl Denham is especially memorable, even if I still prefer Robert Armstrong's show biz bluster in the original over Black's more Machiavellian demeanor.

Ultimately, Jackson respects that King Kong is above all else a love story -- that's why Fay Wray is remembered so fondly from the original picture, and why Naomi Watts will emerge the most triumphant from this new version. Watts plays her scenes opposite Kong beautifully, and it's a measure of her skills as an actress that she generates enormous chemistry with an animal that's created out of computer codes rather than flesh and blood.

Just as Kong found his queen, so too will audiences discover this premier royal engagement of the year-end holiday season.

• THE LION KING: The Pevensie children prove to be loyal subjects to Aslan in The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (Photo: Disney / Walden)

Christians, heathens and everyone in between will be inspired to hold hands and sway to the gentle rhythms of The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (***). C.S. Lewis' source material -- the first book in a series of seven Narnia adventures -- sprinkled Christian allegories throughout a fantasy yarn that was aimed primarily at children, and the movie steadfastly respects Lewis' intentions. Like the best kid flicks, this one never talks down to its target audience, and its religious themes -- issues involving honor, forgiveness and redemption -- embody the true spirit of Christianity and in effect serve as an antidote to the sadistic theatrics of Mel Gibson's garish snuff film, The Passion of the Christ.

Lewis and The Lord of the Rings author J.R.R. Tolkien were friends and contemporaries, so it's not surprising that the films based on their respective works often resemble each other in style and structure. In fact, I'd wager that it took the massive success of the LOTR flicks for Narnia to even be given the green light (in print, it was The Lion that predated The Fellowship of the Ring by four years). Therefore, it's easy to see the plucky Pevensie children -- Peter (William Moseley), Susan (Anna Popplewell), Edmund (Skandar Keynes) and little Lucy (Georgie Henley) -- as human Hobbits, bravely entering enemy territory to defeat an evil entity whose cruel reign threatens all sorts of races and civilizations. It's not hard to spot a bit of Aragorn and Sauron in the noble lion king Aslan and the nefarious White Witch (Tilda Swinton), one sworn to protect the land and the other determined to rule it. And the climactic battle in The Lion might as well be the Disneyland version of the grand finale of The Return of the King.

In short, viewers who enjoyed the LOTR threepeat should find similar compensations in this less ambitious undertaking. Director Andrew Adamson, coming off the Shrek toons, isn't as accomplished a filmmaker as Peter Jackson, so his tale feels cramped and on occasion even claustrophobic (cinema's widescreen possibilities appear to hold little interest for him). But the child actors are appealing, Swinton makes a suitably chilly ice queen, the supporting critters add color and the brisk storyline fuels the imagination. It may be kid stuff, but it's suitable for the whole family.