A still from Mufasa: The Lion King When Disney churned out the soulless, lifeless photorealistic remake of The Lion King in 2019, all hope for the inevitable prequel was lost. The remake took beloved characters from the original Oscar-winning 1994 film and drained them of their personality. Director Jon Favreau and screenwriter Jeff Nathanson stuck closely to the visual language and narrative structure of the original, often recreating scenes shot-for-shot. Making matters worse, the film’s photorealistic art form created an impersonal experience in which the lions looked lifelike, but evoked absolutely no emotion at all. When a colorful classic such as 1994’s The Lion King exists, why embark on the endeavor to remake it, if not to push the creative boundaries and offer something new?
Working with the property of an enormous money-making franchise comes with its own set of expectations, and reinventing the wheel isn’t one of them. But a creative voice should still have a firm place in this circle of life. The misguided, glassy-eyed spectacle of 2019’s The Lion King sunk so low into unimaginative territory, it left no room for creativity to grow and thrive. So, when the prequel was announced, the idea of another director stepping into this world felt depressing, even more so because that director was the visionary Barry Jenkins. One of the most passionate storytellers of our time working in the hollow space of photorealism seemed limiting. Luckily, with Jenkins’ bright talent, Mufasa: The Lion King has enough direction to evoke real emotion from a somewhat engaging story. While the director’s vision doesn’t get a full embrace, as his voice feels consistently at odds with corporate meddling, he manages to make this prequel at least worth watching. Mufasa: The Lion King tells the origin story of how Mufasa found his destiny and became King of the Pride Lands. The journey follows him as a young cub (Braelyn Rankins) who gets separated from his father Simba (Donald Glover) and mother Nala (Beyoncé Knowles Carter) due to a flooding. Mufasa finds himself in uncharted waters when he encounters Taka (Theo Somolu), a young lion cub from a different pride. The two cubs get a mixed welcome from Taka’s compassionate mother Eshe (Thandiwe Newton) and intolerant father Obasi (Lennie James). Obasi views Mufasa as a stray, an outsider who must earn a place in this pride. He pits Mufasa against Taka in a life-or-death race, but Taka has a secret: he’s always wanted a brother. By letting Mufasa win, Taka gives the fellow cub a sense of belonging. But Mufasa has a heightened sense of feeling things from far away, which makes him destined for something greater. When a grown Mufasa (Aaron Pierre) saves the pride from a group of white lions, led by the relentlessly spiteful Kiros (Mads Mikkelsen), Obasi orders Mufasa to flee with Taka for safety. While on the run, the brotherly lions meet princess Sarabi (Tiffany Boone), her flighty protector Zazu (Preston Nyman), and young Rafiki (Kagiso Lediga). The group heads for Milele, the lush grasslands Mufasa’s parents promised him they would visit, while Kiros’ vengeful pack trail close behind. Audiences familiar with Mufasa will anticipate certain character developments, specifically in his relationship with Taka, which the film smartly focuses on. While the writing of their individual motivations fall flat, the lions’ bond gives the film a somewhat engaging emotional core. Since the film isn’t a direct remake, Jenkins has more flexibility to explore these characters beyond what we’ve already seen. He and screenwriter Jeff Nathanson specifically draw upon how Mufasa and Taka’s upbringings shape two different meanings of leadership; one marked by selflessness, the other by betrayal. Mufasa finds a chosen family both in Eshe, who encourages him to hone his sensory talents, and in Obasi, who gains respect for his heroic act of saving the pride from Kiros. The family seems to accept him more than they do Taka, who inherits toxic values from Obasi and is taught to use deceit as a leadership tool. While Mufasa seamlessly steps into the role he was born to play, Taka wrestles with desires and false destiny. The voice acting by Aaron Pierre and especially Kelvin Harrison Jr. bring energy to these roles that elevate the material. Their performances stand out in a collection of mostly forgettable voice acting, despite the talented cast. Though, of the supporting characters, Mads Mikkelsen makes a distinctive mark as the villainous Kiros. Through the brothers’ journey towards Milele, the film engages in some compelling messages of standing strong together and making room for every vulnerable being in the circle of life. Not to mention, themes of inherited family values, wrestling with where you belong, and navigating manipulative rulers in a broken system. It’s understandable that Jenkins would be drawn to the material, and there are moments where his direction does pull you in and feel some of the stakes. However, his vision gets undermined at several turns, whether it’s the constricting photorealism or the narrative framing. The story of Mufasa gets passed down from a grown Rafiki (John Kani) to Mufasa’s granddaughter Kiara (Blue Ivy Carter) as a distraction from Nala going into labour. For some reason, the presence of Timon (Billy Eichner) and Pumbaa (Seth Rogen) in this narrative framing was considered a good idea. The pair’s comedy stylings fall completely flat and disrupt the momentum. Their misguided winks and nods about knowing what happens to the characters are clear examples of Jenkins' voice feeling at odds with higher-up obligations to make a broad appeal. Plus, the recurring Timon and Pumbaa scenes leave little room for Kiara’s character to stand out in any way. The biggest emotional disconnect of the film comes from one of the most passionate filmmakers working in the very limiting playground of photorealism. The attempts to replicate real emotion, without actually emoting, makes for a jarring experience. While the visuals of Mufasa: The Lion King technically look lifelike, and the characters show more emotion in comparison to the 2019 film, this art form still creates a barrier to authenticity. There is less room for imagination and liveliness, which also impacts the use of visuals for the film’s soundtrack. The original songs written by Lin-Manuel Miranda range from underwhelming (“Brother Betrayed”; “Milele”) to catchy (“I Always Wanted A Brother”; “Bye Bye”), but even the catchy songs are let down by forgettable choreography in the film. As well, Dave Metzger’s original score gets lost in the shadows of a far more iconic one that lingers to this day. The brief use of “Under the Stars” and “King of Pride Rock,” two tracks from Hans Zimmer’s score for the 1994 animation, still manage to reverberate over Metzger’s score. Mufasa: The Lion King tumbles in its narrative framing, rushed pacing, and underwhelming visuals. While disappointing that it doesn’t fully work on an emotional and visual level, Barry Jenkins deserves credit for adding some personality to this prequel. Certain scenes evoke Jenkins’ distinctive visual style, such as the shots of characters looking almost directly into the camera. He puts the viewer into the animals’ perspectives quite well, and captures the epic scope of the first half to push Mufasa and Taka into their journey of brotherhood. The end result lacks staying power, but hopefully the closing of this big-budget chapter will lead to more personal, intimate films from Jenkins where his voice can be embraced fully.
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