Monday, March 16, 2009

Singing Dara's praise

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.

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Love, The Management