A few nights ago, I did a header for a bad Godzilla movie, so it’s only fair that I give his frenemy King Kong his turn to, um, shine. However, while Godzilla’s Revenge is ultimately just a silly outing for children which probably isn’t really deserving of some of the hate it gets (or maybe it is, I’ll let you be the judge, I’m not here to make waves), tonight’s creature feature is its own special breed of terrible. That’s right, it’s fucking King Kong Lives, the extremely belated sequel to the 1976 remake which no one was asking for but we somehow got anyway (and I’m not using hyperbole; King Kong Lives brought in only $4 million to the banana bank, which was lousy even back in 1986).

Following his apparently fatal fall from the, um, erm, uh, World Trade Center, Kong has been in a Kong coma for the past decade, kept alive in a gigantic government laboratory (Jimmy Carter didn’t know how to use tax dollars, I guess). Scientist Linda Hamilton, who really doesn’t want to be here, is determined to give the old guy a new ticker, but in order to do that, she’s going to need a blood transfusion. Problem is there are no other giant apes that fit Kong’s requirements as donors, meaning that things are pretty hopeless, JUST KIDDING a female Kong is literally found in the jungle immediately to solve their crisis. After Kong has his heart surgery, which involves a massive claw like the one from Toy Story lowering a mechanical device into his chest, and no, it’s not stupid at all, he awakens and has only one goal: get laid! Before you know it, both Kongs are on the loose and determined to plow, causing an evil southern general from a fucking cartoon show to do every evil southern general thing that evil southern generals do in such situations. Will primate love reign supreme? Or will General Not Thunderbolt Ross end up killing the King AGAIN?

King Kong Lives is the cinematic equivalent of an existential crisis. Constantly you will ask yourself why this got made before that sense of confusion eventually forces you to question why you were born, since you are the one watching it, wasting your precious time on this planet witnessing King Kong fucking flirt with his equal for extended sequences before at long last the gorilla sex scene commences, which turns Linda Hamilton on so much that she grabs her Dollar Store Nathan Drake and coos “we’re primates, too” before they partake in the ape orgy. You know what? This film actually makes you wonder why humans exist, since we supposedly have endless potential as a species, and we spent it creating something in which King Kong gets hit by a golf ball in the noggin. HOW DID THAT GUY NOT SEE HIM? HE’S A GIANT MONKEY ON A GOLF COURSE, HE IS NOT EXACTLY BLENDING IN WITH THE SCENERY! I’m sorry, God. I know you must be looking the other way at this point.

Oh, and speaking of God, did I mention this pretty much turns into The Nativity Story in the final act? You know, with gorillas. Because Kong knocks up Female Kong, and then he must take her to safety, and their baby is born in a barn as–SPOILER ALERT–King Kong is fed approximately 1,000,000,000,000 bullets by the US military. Yes. In the ultimate middle finger to the audience, King Kong does not live, but instead dies. Again.

That’s really, believe it or not, only the tip of the iceberg (I haven’t gotten into the goddamn rednecks, who would make The Beverly Hillbillies blush). This is a baffling train wreck of almost unfathomable proportions, somehow made worse and better by the fact that it wouldn’t know “irony” if it had the Bender meme used against it. King Kong Lives wants your tears, which makes it so uncomfortable to sit through, but at the same time, you can’t really look away from this monstrosity either. But don’t take my word for it. Listen to Siskel and Ebert’s take, in a clip which I’m amazed hasn’t gone viral by now.

Have a Kong-tastic night, y’all!