"Every movement in that film was about a human connecting with this huge beast who was one hundred per cent 'other'. Kong basically looks at Ann Darrow three times in that movie. It's all about the disconnect and him being this lonely, psychotic hobo who can't connect with other people."

"Perhaps as a consequence of the writers coming to this after three movies with their large Middle Earth ensemble (which included nine principal characters and plenty of supporting roles), the characters in King Kong are almost gratuitously well developed all around. The crew of the SS Venture is essentially made up of pulp archetypes, but unusually, they're all given enough screen time that they're not just Star Trek-style red shirts by the time they disembark on Skull Island."

"Q. I heard you actually referred back to the original's storyboards?"

"Although Naomi Watts makes a splendid heroine, there have been complaints that Jack Black and Adrien Brody are not precisely hero material. Nor should they be, in my opinion. They are a director and a writer. They do not require big muscles and square jaws. What they require are strong personalities that can be transformed under stress. Denham the director clings desperately to his camera, no matter what happens to him, and Driscoll the writer beats a strategic retreat before essentially rewriting his personal role in his own mind. Bruce Baxter (Kyle Chandler) is an actor who plays the movie's hero, and now has to decide if he can play his role for real. And Preston (Colin Hanks) is a production assistant who, as is often the case, would be a hero if anybody would give him a chance. The result is a surprisingly involving and rather beautiful movie -- one that will appeal strongly to the primary action audience, and also cross over to people who have no plans to see "King Kong" but will change their minds the more they hear. I think the film even has a message, and it isn't that beauty killed the beast. It's that we feel threatened by beauty, especially when it overwhelms us, and we pay a terrible price when we try to deny its essential nature and turn it into a product, or a target. This is one of the year's best films."

"There are astonishments to behold in Peter Jackson's new "King Kong", but one sequence, relatively subdued, holds the key to the movie's success. Kong has captured Ann Darrow and carried her to his perch high on the mountain. He puts her down, not roughly, and then begins to roar, bare his teeth and pound his chest. Ann, an unemployed vaudeville acrobat, somehow instinctively knows that the gorilla is not threatening her but trying to impress her by behaving as an alpha male -- the King of the Jungle. She doesn't know how Queen Kong would respond, but she does what she can: She goes into her stage routine, doing backflips, dancing like Chaplin, juggling three stones. Her instincts and empathy serve her well. Kong's eyes widen in curiosity, wonder and finally what may pass for delight. From then on, he thinks of himself as the girl's possessor and protector. She is like a tiny beautiful toy that he has been given for his very own, and before long, they are regarding the sunset together, both of them silenced by its majesty. The scene is crucial because it removes the element of creepiness in the gorilla/girl relationship in the two earlier "Kongs" (1933 and 1976), creating a wordless bond that allows her to trust him. When Jack Driscoll climbs the mountain to rescue her, he finds her comfortably nestled in Kong's big palm."

"Bates: Moving the film's location from Africa to the south sea islands doesn't remove the stigma visited upon the native people depicted in it, says Newsday's Jim Pinkerton. He says even subliminal messages in movies are important."

"Mr. Jim Pinkerton (Newsday): And for this movie to have been made in 1933 about white people going over to the Third World to capture a large, black being with a flat nose and bring him back in chains was sort of powerful then. And I was sort of surprised to see it getting remade, if anything, more politically incorrectly, in 2005."

"Bates: All three "King Kongs"--the classic 1933 version starring Fay Wray, the campy 1976 version starring Jessica Lange and the current epic by "Lord of the Rings" director Peter Jackson--feature a big, black ape who falls in love with a willowy white woman. The unspoken fear about black-white sexual relations has been remarked on by film historians and cultural critics ever since. The 1933 original stoked anxieties about black male hypersexuality. Kong snatches Ann Darrow up and makes off with her as she screams in horror. And the film's supposedly African natives--who offer the heroine up to the giant ape--came from what some critics called the ooga-booga(ph) school of thespian arts. Newsday columnist Jim Pinkerton says the 2005 "Kong", starring a dewy, blond Naomi Watts, shows the story line hasn't evolved all that much."

"The Abominable Snowman."

"There's only one creature capable of leaving a footprint that size."

"[at the killing ground, where the hundreds of Kong's victims have been left to rot] Good Lord, it's a bleeding boneyard! They've been ripped limb from limb!"

"Adventures on a tramp steamer, just like us!"

"[referring to Heart of Darkness] It's not an adventure story. Is it, Mr. Hayes?"

"[to Hayes, after being told to run if they encounter any danger] I'm not a coward. I ain't gonna run."

"[to Carl, after being uncertain about him bringing Kong back to New York] Forget it, Denham. No chains will ever hold a creature like that."

"[to Carl, whom he has just saved from a slimy demise in the insect pit] That's the thing about cockroaches. No matter how many times you flush them down the toilet, they always crawl back up the bowl."

"Actors. They travel the world, but all they ever see is a mirror."

"That's the thing you come to learn about Carl. His unfailing ability to destroy the things he loves."

"[noticing the disturbing effigy of Kong on Carl's map] What is that?"

"Stop, please! Stop! We have to turn back! They've taken Ann!"

"And now, we have in the auditorium tonight... a surprise guest. The real-life hero of this story. The man who hunted down the mighty Kong! The man who risked all to win the freedom of a helpless female. A big hand for Mr. Bruce Baxter!"

"Observe if you will... [carefully puts his hand on Kong's arm. The audience gasps] ...I am touching the beast! I am actually laying my hands on the 25-foot gorilla! [Kong's hand twitches slightly, spooking Carl, causing him to jump. The audience laughs.]"

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm here to tell you a very strange story. A story so strange that no one will believe it. But, ladies and gentlemen, seeing is believing. And we, my friends and I, have brought back the living proof of our story. The story of our adventure, in which 17 of our party suffered horrible deaths. But their sacrifices were not in vain. Their lives were lost in pursuit of a savage beast. A monstrous aberration of nature. But unlike other wild animals, even the meanest brute can be tamed. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, as you will see, the beast was no match for the charms of a young girl. A girl from New York who melted his heart, bringing to mind that old Arabian proverb: "And lo, the Beast looked upon the face of Beauty, and Beauty stayed his hand. And from that day forward, he was as one dead". And now ladies and gentlemen, before I tell you the story of our voyage, I'm going to show you the greatest thing your eyes have ever beheld. He was more than just a god. He was a king in the world he knew, but he comes to you now a captive... a show to gratify your curiosity. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Kong, the Eighth Wonder of the World! [The curtain rises to reveal Kong, sitting on the stage, miserable, his limbs cuffed with gigantic chains. The audience gasps] Don't be alarmed! It's perfectly safe! These chains are made of chrome steel. They are strong enough to hold a battleship!"

"[standing in the men's bathroom, talking to himself in a mirror with a "FUCK YOU" written on it] Yeah, fuck you, too. Fuck me? Fuck you, fuck this whole city and everyone in it. Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back. Fuck the squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job! Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores, stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35. Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English? Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from! Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds! Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gekko wannabe motherfuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for FUCKING LIFE! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Adelphia! Worldcom! Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dominicans, 'cause they make the Puerto Ricans look good. Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their pomaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, their St. Anthony medallions, swinging their Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos. Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Hermes scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart! Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take five steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended 137 years ago. Move the fuck on! Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust! Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin' Otisville, J! Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your 72 whores roasting in a jet-fuel fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal Irish ass! Fuck Jacob Elinsky. Whining malcontent. Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery, my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass. Fuck Naturelle Riviera. I gave her my trust, and she stabbed me in the back. Sold me up the river. Fucking bitch. Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar sipping on club sodas, selling whisky to firemen, cheering the Bronx Bombers. Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row-houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue, from the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in SoHo. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the Brownstones in Park Slope to the split-levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it, let the fires rage, let it burn to fucking ash and then let the waters rise and submerge this whole rat-infested place. [pause] No. No, Fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all, and you threw it away, you dumb fuck!"

"You're a New Yorker, that won't ever change. You got New York in your bones. Spend the rest of your life out west but you're still a New Yorker. You'll miss your friends, you'll miss your dog, but you're strong. You got your mother's backbone in you, you're strong like she was. You find the right people, and you get yourself papers, a drivers license. You forget your old life, you can't come back, you can't call, you can't write. You never look back. You make a new life for yourself and you live it, you hear me? You live your live the way it should have been. But maybe, this is dangerous, but maybe after a few years you send word to Naturelle. You get yourself a new family and you raise them right, you hear me? Give them a good life Monty. Give them what they need. You have a son, maybe you name him James, it's a good strong name, and maybe one day years from now years after I'm dead and gone reunited with your dear ma, you gather your whole family around and tell them the truth, who you are, where you come from, you tell them the whole story. Then you ask them if they know how lucky they are to be there. It all came so close to never happening. This life came so close to never happening."

"[to Monty] You've never been west of Philly, have ya? This is a beautiful country Monty, it's beautiful out there, like a different world. Mountains, hills, cows, farms, and white churches. I drove out west with your mother one time, before you was born. Brooklyn to the Pacific in three days. Just enough money for gas, sandwiches, and coffee, but we made it. Every man, woman, and child alive should see the desert one time before they die. Nothin' at all for miles around. Nothin' but sand and rocks and cactus and blue sky. Not a soul in sight. No sirens. No car alarms. Nobody honkin' atcha. No madmen cursin' or pissin' in the streets. You find the silence out there, you find the peace. You can find God. So we drive west, keep driving till we find a nice little town. These towns out in the desert, you know why they got there? People wanted to get way from somewhere else. The desert's for startin' over. Find a bar and I'll buy us drinks. I haven't had a drink in two years, but I'll have one with you, one last whisky with my boy. Take our time with it, taste the barley, let it linger. And then I'll go. I'll tell you don't ever write me, don't ever visit, I'll tell you I believe in God's kingdom and I'll see you and your mother again, but not in this lifetime. You'll get a job somewhere, a job that pays cash, a boss who doesn't ask questions, and you make a new life and you never come back."

"Tony Siragusa - Kostya Novotny"

"Brian Cox - James Brogan"

"Anna Paquin - Mary D'Annunzio"

"Rosario Dawson - Naturelle Riviera"

"Barry Pepper - Frank Slaughtery"

"Philip Seymour Hoffman - Jacob Elinsky"

"Edward Norton - Monty Brogan"

"One wrong choice... one last night... 24 hours to live a lifetime"

"This life was so close to never happening"

"Can you change your whole life in a day?"

"I have been in three different prisons, Montgomery. Three different countries. And you know what I learned? I learned prison is a bad place to be."