You konga be kidding me!
It’s the British King Kong!
Wait, you’re gonna name your movie KONGA – about a chimp that grows giant – and you don’t want to be compared to KING KONG? Okay, but what do we compare it to then? How about ass cancer?
Super Brit Michael Gough is Dr. Decker, who comes back to England after a lost year in the African jungle, with a serum for growing plants and animals artificially big. (If the name sounds familiar, he’s Batman’s butler; here, half that age.)
Decker uses the serum on a tiny chimp called Konga that he brought back from Africa with him. Konga grows to the size of a large chimp in seconds.
Meanwhile, Decker’s secretary/assistant Margaret (Margo Johns) is practically howling for his British truncheon up under her dirndl dress; she’s been his anorexic, flat-chested, pushing-45 assistant/ confidante/ secretary / housekeeper for years and apparently she’s driven wild enough by his clinical Mitt Romney hairdo that she practically threatens not to do his housework any more unless he marries her. Desperately in need of a duster and garbage disposer, Decker agrees, but tells her: “Until we marry, you are still my housekeeper, secretary and assistant.” Waitaminute – isn’t that what marriage is?
Onward… Decker injects Konga with more serum and he turns from a chimpanzee into a gorilla – somehow crosses the species line; even worse, crosses another species line by being a human in a gorilla suit.
Now Decker uses Konga to kill people that oppose his scientific research, like the dean of his college. Apparently, it’s easy to hypnotize an ape to murder: you just shine a light in his eyes and speak English, along the lines of, “You will obey me.” Good thing apes understand English, and all the complex instructions Decker gives him. All with the blessing of Margaret, who just can’t wait for the day she’ll be Mrs. Complicit Gorilla Murderer.
Though Decker passes off Konga’s murders as “scientific research to see if Konga will obey me,” Margaret’s attitude changes a few murders later, as she whines at him across the breakfast table that he has to reveal his experiment to the world or stop murdering. Which raises the question: are these two (who never get within handjob distance of one another) actually “doing it” or is she merely living on the promise of his batpole, which is why she is edgy and shrikey?
Don’t take that tone with me unless you’re blowing me!
Then Decker tries to get it on with teen Sandra (Claire Gordon), a student of his with a bra so pointy, it invented 3D. (Her teen friends with no acting ability have their radio tuned to the Three Little Bops channel.) Well, when Margaret sees Decker’s juvenile advances on Sandra – like a 40-year-old virgin – hell hath no fury…
Margaret hypnotizes Konga to kill Decker, then injects Konga with serum enough to grow him to 50 feet high. Whereupon he picks her up like his Skull Island namesake and throws her like a Terminator. Hey, it’s the 1960s – who takes orders from a woman?
The guy in the Konga suit gives even less of a rat’s ass than that guy in the King Kong suit in KING KONG 1976. He wanders around London with Decker in his hand, like he’s looking for a contact lens; most of the time, just standing there like he’s been chastised for doing a wee-wee on the carpet. And look at the size of that arse! The bottom end of his gorilla suit looks like big baggy clown trousers! He resembles a bowling pin so much he can hardly walk.
Army is called in – oh, here we go: ineffectual, untrained army guys shooting without any aim or point. At the military base, we see each army guy descend a flight of stairs. Each one. Apparently, director John Lemont thinks it’s important to show every single one of them walking down the stairs. Did you get that? Three whole minutes of army guys walking down stairs. The level of excitement could get no higher at this point.
Konga climbs Big Ben and throws Decker down, dead. Where’s the Batman when you need him? Army shoots him and Konga falls. Now Big Ben isn’t that high; if Konga falls, he should realistically just hurt his ankle or something. But he dies. We may wonder how. I think I know: carrying around such a load in his rump dragged him to his death.
It was booty killed the beast.