With a rubber-suit dinosaur worthy of a Japanese kaiju eiga, fake-boulder-throwing men in furry hot pants right out of an Italian peplum, and wrestling sequences that would fit just as easily in a Santo movie, King Kong provides evidence of a Bollywood that has remained largely hidden from more casual observers. As an added surprise, it also contains no King Kong… or, at least, not the King Kong that you were expecting. Read my full review, just posted over at Teleport City.
Stocking Stuffer Season!
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It’s Stocking Stuffer Season at The Feminine Critique Podcast! Listen as
friend of the Gutter Emily Intravia discusses holiday romance movies with
guest. T...
6 hours ago
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