Out of Frame: The King of Kong
Do you have memories of long hours spent in video arcades, slowly becoming desensitized to the flashing lights, the boops, the beeps, the whistles and wails? Of endlessly trying to get the change machine to take that last crumpled dollar, to give you four more games before it was time to head home? Or maybe for you it was a dark-wood-paneled basement at your best friend's house, where you played an Atari 2600, a Colecovision, or, God forbid, a Commodore 64. Raise your hand if you know what a TI99/4A was, and took shit from your friends because you had to play a knock-off version of Pac-Man known as Munch Man. If any of these references mean anything to you, Seth Gordon's debut feature documentary may have particular resonance. What's more remarkable is that even if you've never so much as eaten a single ghost in a game of Ms. Pac-Man, King of Kong is still a remarkable (and remarkably hilarious) film.
The setup is a documentarian's wet dream: lifetime also-ran loses his job, spends all his newfound free time in the garage playing a classic video game and discovers he might just be the best at something after all. Meanwhile, the arrogant, world famous jerk he seeks to supplant schemes and connives to keep our hero from his goal. A David vs. Goliath competition drama like this usually has to be carefully (and generally unbelievably) scripted, but in this case all the unlikely events unfold for real.
Which is not to discount the talents of Gordon, the director. The saga of Steve Wiebe, a Washington State engineer whose pink slip from Boeing on the day he and his wife close on their new home is pretty much a fitting metaphor for his whole life, and Billy Mitchell, the most celebrated (and unrepentantly egotisical) video game player in history, may be tailor-made for the screen, but it's Gordon's deft touch that makes the film such a treat. Part of that may be his background in fiction films. King of Kong's footage may be real, but its editing is always in service to the story. Which sometimes causes the narrative to play fast and loose with the facts, but documentary filmmaking isn't journalism: there's a difference between reporting a story and telling one, and the priority in a documentary is the latter. Gordon's other priority is laughter, and he succeeds on both counts.
His subjects tend to make easy targets. It's not too difficult to lampoon the geek culture that makes up the competitive gaming world, and Gordon doesn't shy away from taking all the shots available to him. Can you blame him? He's got footage of a seemingly mild-mannered accountant type violently slamming the trunk of his Volkwagon before stalking off with his pants hiked up to his armpits. You want him to cut that just because it's also a little mean?
What makes King of Kong more than just a snarky look at a nerdy subculture is how surprisingly human the whole thing is. First, it revels in the geekiness as much as it pokes fun. You may find yourself with an uncontrollable urge to find a Donkey Kong machine to play a few games afterwards, revealing yourself to be just as much of a Poindexter as anyone in the film. More importantly though, the film is, as Wiebe notes about the competition between himself and Mitchell at one point, about much more than Donkey Kong. The film uses its subjects to tell a much bigger story about much bigger themes, good & evil, bravery & cowardice, fame and the desire of fans to keep their heroes on a pedestal. In that, it joins the ranks of other great documentaries like Gates of Heaven, Grey Gardens, or Hands on a Hardbody, that reach much farther thant their esoteric subject matter would seem to allow.
His setup of Weibe as the good guy who can't catch a break is set up by interviews with his wife and family, who seem genuinely sorry for him. It's the sort of pity you probably don't want your family to feel compelled to have for you. Mitchell, on the other hand, does himself in as far as making himself unlikeable. Spouting annoying motivational catchphrases to go with his tacky jingoistic neckwear, he comes off as a self-centered egomaniac at every turn. But it's when Gordon catches little moments that mean a lot that King of Kong really shines. The break in Weibe's voice and the tears he sheds when he talks about his difficulties getting his record recognized signal more disappointment at yet another clique he's been rejected by. And Mitchell's stunned silence as he receives, via telephone, the news of Weibe's performance at a gaming convention reveals a deep well of insecurities his bravado only thinly masks. As the showdown reaches its climactic moments, the audience is moved to loud cheers and groans to go with the laughter at each twist and turn. Which may be Gordon's ability to make us care so deeply about all these characters, or maybe he's just able to reach the geek in each of us.
King of Kong is in the midst of a one-week-only run that ends Thursday night at E Street Cinema, so if you're going to check it out, now is the time.