King Kong synopsis (sort of)

    So, you've got this ragtag bunch of filmmakers, led by the aggressively enthusiastic (and possibly slightly unhinged) Carl Denham. He's convinced he's a genius, despite mostly filming blurry footage of pigeons. He needs a leading lady for his "artistic" jungle flick, and stumbles upon Ann Darrow, a charmingly down-on-her-luck gal who's mostly just trying to avoid starvation. He promises her fame and probably some lukewarm craft services.
    They set sail on a creaky boat that smells vaguely of old fish and ambition. After weeks of seasickness and questionable rations, they arrive at Skull Island, which looks less like paradise and more like nature's "Keep Out" sign. The locals, who seem to have a very specific dress code involving lots of straw and dramatic chanting, aren't exactly thrilled to see them.
    Turns out, the island's star attraction is Kong, a giant ape with the emotional range of a grumpy toddler and the strength of a disgruntled bulldozer. The locals, in a moment of truly baffling logic, decide the best way to appease this colossal primate is to offer him Ann as a… well, a giant ape-sized snack? A peace offering? It's never really clear.
    Kong, initially confused by this tiny, screaming human, develops a weird sort of possessive fascination. He carries her around like a particularly noisy doll, battling dinosaurs that look suspiciously like overgrown lizards with bad CGI (which they didn't have in 1933, but you get the idea). Ann mostly just screams and tries to keep her hair looking presentable.
    Meanwhile, Carl and his crew are all, "Wow, this giant ape would be GREAT for our movie!" Their survival instincts are clearly on vacation. They manage to knock Kong out with some highly flammable gas (health and safety regulations were apparently optional back then) and decide the best course of action is to bring him back to New York City. Because what could possibly go wrong?
    Predictably, everything goes wrong. Kong is paraded on a Broadway stage, looking deeply unimpressed. He breaks free, probably because someone forgot to reinforce his chains with, like, adamantium or something. He then embarks on a chaotic tour of New York, swatting at biplanes like annoying flies and climbing the Empire State Building because, well, it's the tallest thing around and he's probably just trying to get a better view.
    His tragic downfall comes not from a valiant army, but from a couple of surprisingly persistent biplane pilots who seem to have an unlimited supply of ammunition. Kong, the misunderstood giant who just wanted to chill on his island with his human-sized stress ball, plummets to his doom.
    The movie ends with Carl Denham uttering the immortal line, "Oh, no, it wasn't the airplanes. It was Beauty killed the Beast." Which is hilarious because, let's be honest, it was totally the airplanes. And maybe the giant ape-napping. But hey, dramatic license!