It’s not that terrible, but also, why?
Audience reaction to the tech demo update of The Lion King could be perceived thusly:
It reminded me of that weird shot-for-shot remake of Psycho. It reminded me of the 2006 animated film The Wild. It reminded me of every single nature documentary I’ve seen. It reminded me of Jurassic Park, Atlanta and Godzilla. It reminded me of poorly dubbed, brilliantly bonkers spaghetti westerns. And most depressingly, it reminded me how untouchable and magisterial the animated original is.
I watched this digital copy in a weird state where the original was overlaid, in my mind, on the new rendition. I saw the vibrancy, the emotion, the colour, the power and sweeping animation of the the ’94 masterpiece like a ghostly afterimage over this mechanical, impressively built, empty version. It’s not a stretch to say that we’ve all literally seen this movie before.
The story’s the same, the dialogue is the same, the action’s the same, the framing and movements the same, the damn lighting is the same (sometimes). It’s hard not watch it and be constantly comparing it to the original, it’s inevitable, almost inviting us to do so. What else could be expected?
It lacks zip and flair. Bereft of delicious vocal performances like Jeremy Irons’ Scar that revelled in it’s machiavellian evil. Hamstrung by lifelike renditions of expression and movement of the animals. And yeah the new techniques and filmmaking abilities maybe would have worked better if the movie did anything, ANYTHING, different, but, again, not if you’re just going to go imitate every fucking shot! The filmmakers perpetually shooting themselves in the foot for being so reverential (mostly lazy) to the original. This is Disney drunk with power, dismissive of hubris. It knows it will succeed, and there is nothing we can do to stop it.
Despite itself, the film stumbles into exhilarating moments, the result of the stirring manipulation of memory more than what’s actually happening on screen. Like the ‘member berries of South Park. I kept waiting and waiting for an animal to express, to emote, to connect on a deeper level than photorealism, to provide us with a shred of humanity instead of the eyes of predators and prey, but alas my hopes were continually dashed upon the rocks, bloodied and left for dead. Falling to dust in a wasteland of magnificently rendered bones.
And yet there I was, walking out of the cinema, singing ‘Circle of Life’, ‘Hakuna Matata’ and ‘I Can’t Wait To Be King’ in some kind improvised melody because dammit they are bangers. Damn you Disney, damn you. We are driven, like the wildebeest, by something instinctual, instilled in our collective movie DNA. The extraction of nostalgia and, despite our best efforts to resist, we are ultimately overwhelmed by it.
It’s not terrible because it has those songs. It has Donald Glover and Beyonce (though both are criminally wasted), it has James Earl Jones as Mufasa because who else could it be — another nail into the sweet comfort coffin of nostalgia we so desperately yearn for even though we are barely conscious of it. It has Billy Eichner and Seth Rogen making the most herculean of efforts to inject some life, some soul into proceedings.
Words articulated like we humans can achieve weren’t meant to be uttered from the mouth of animals that evolution has removed that ability to construct such sounds. As Jesse Pinkman would say, ‘yeah science bitch!’.
The fascinating thing is that if it was a completely different interpretation that was confident enough not be a pale shadow of the original and strike a more individual path there’s probably a more interesting movie waiting to break out. The effects are astounding on so many levels, creating a world incredibly real and tangible. At times it can leave you gasping in awe at what Jon Favreau and his team have achieved.
You can see the potential to create, say, a stirring tale that could double as a clarion call to give voice to the delicate balance of nature that’s being destroyed around us. But hypotheticals are a fool’s game when $250 million is involved. The machine of time and distraction constantly churning, consuming, copying. What is old is new is the same is now old again. We are forever feeding, blind to what we are being fed. The circle of life is ever thus.
Should one go see it? Eh, but no, but I mean everyone else is going to anyway so why bother resisting the pull?
Swish Collective 