‘Mufasa’ review: Barry Jenkins tangles with Disney’s big cat

Barry Jenkins signing on to direct a spin-off of The Lion King sounds like the kind of joke you’d make after Moonlight won the Best Picture Oscar, but the filmmakers’ Rather than a sacrifice, it’s a burden on an industry that has become more cautious about funding filmmakers. A kind of heart-driven talent. In the ’90s, Hollywood might have handed him the checkbook. But in this decade, just getting the green light for a blockbuster movie requires a catfight. Mufasa: The Lion King, written by Jeff Nathanson, takes up a significant portion of Jenkins’ workload – it was first announced in 2020. We follow the film trying to find him, but there’s nothing more to it than a fantastical interlude of three lions frolicking on the grass.

This was a sure-fire blockbuster and needed no one but the studio’s accountants and parents. I’ll accept it on those terms, because it’s good for children-pleasers to get their children into the habit of going to the cinema. Yes, it’s easy and necessary to mock Disney for squeezing every last drop out of the franchise. Heck, Disney even learned that teasing itself can be lucrative. That’s what happens here when one animal groans, “Don’t ever mention that play again.” And now, the company’s enthusiasm for a prequel has resulted in a movie that we’ve all seen before, about two kittens dying tragically. Morbidly gleefully, “Mufasa” begins by killing one of them again.

The framing device depicts Simba and Nala (Donald Glover and Beyoncé Knowles-Carter) with their daughter Kiara (Blue Ivy Carter), Pumbaa the warthog (Seth Rogen), and Timon the meerkat (Billy Eichner). He handed it over to three familiar babysitters. and Rafiki (John Kani), a psychic mandrill who repeatedly insists he’s not a baboon. Rafiki tells the origin story of Kiara’s grandfather, while Pumbaa and Timon serve as atonal comic relief with the rhythm of a nervous executive’s pacemaker: “Less childhood trauma, more meerkats!” He interrupts. Timon cries.

Most of the time, we’re introduced to an orphaned child named Mufasa (voiced by Braylin and Brielle Rankins in his youth, and by Aaron Pierre in his prime) and his adopted brother Taka ( He wanders Tanzania with Teo Somolu (later Kelvin Harrison Jr.). From a royal lineage. My complaint with the original Lion King and its 2019 remake is that Simba is a one-note brat. Mufasa is even worse – he’s absolutely perfect – and the other characters can’t help but comment on it. “You’re a do-it-all lion,” purrs a female in heat (Tiffany Boone). That’s not an exaggeration. Among other natural talents, Mufasa has proven to be an expert in elephant migration patterns and botany.

To further the hagiography, the screenplay gets its own plot points wrong. Early on, there’s a fight where Mufasa apparently kills an unnamed lion. However, we never learn what happened on-screen until a follow-up beat in which the dead lion’s father, Kiros (Mads Mikkelsen), learns at some point between scenes that his cub has died from his injuries. you can’t. Kiros’s quest for revenge is a constant throughout the film, and his murder is Mufasa’s first blood (but not his last). However, no moral influence seems to arise in our noble hero at all.

The line reading is flat foot. Mufasa and most of the other lions sound like theme park animatronics, with their voices set to be “soothing”. In addition to the homogeneity, the central characters, and I’m referring here to no less than half a dozen beasts, share the same backstory. Daddy, mommy, and sibling issues are repeated over and over again, so it’s a relief when Zazu the hornbill (Preston Nyman) never mentions his long-lost egg.

The hawk, a more cowardly lion, will soon acquire a name that will surprise no one. What’s even more surprising is why they didn’t promote this movie as “Scar”. This genuinely kind-hearted prince is the only charming character. From his point of view, Taka can make a valid argument that he’s irritated by having a golden god like Mufasa around. This straying literally destroyed his pride. Additionally, Hawk’s voice actors, Somol and Harrison Jr., give dynamic performances with their whimsical emotions and delightful Cockney accents. In the song “I Always Wanted a Brother,” a photorealistic lion sings about his “bulbar” with the surreal exuberance of Growl Tiger from “Cats.”

The most delicate animations look the most beautiful, especially when sunlight dapples their fur or when a feline flexes its claws to assert power. (I’m writing this while struggling to keep my 20-pound Maine Coon away from my desk.) There are also opportunities to create dreamlike images. A flock of birds soaring like a fighter jet, a flock of antelope emerging from the fog of a horror movie, and an unexpected number of antelope. The so-called kings of the jungle are constantly assaulted by gravity and water, creating gorgeous and frightening swimming sequences. At times, the look can be gonzo for viewers watching the movie in 3D. Imagine slow-motion raindrops flying towards your face, or shots of animals running around as if they had a GoPro camera attached to their collar.

The ending feels similarly rushed, but there’s nothing in particular I’d rather spend time with than Lin-Manuel Miranda’s song. The cast moves their belts at a breakneck pace that leaves you breathless, raising the octave on demand. Although the number of songs is small, most of them are wonderfully structured, with supple arrangements and overlapping harmonies that intertwine in duets. Do well at karaoke. However, it is difficult to call any song a masterpiece. It’s not meant to be a bombastic song, and it’s not quite as haunting as “Hakuna Matata,” but it does have a slimy villain song by Mads Mikkelson that became a favorite of mine once I understood the lyrics. Ta. That’s what I’m going to do / The last thing you’ll see / Before you leave / Bye-bye. ” I still think this prequel didn’t need to exist, but at least I left humming.