Directed By Roger Allers and Rob Minkoff
Starring – Matthew Broderick, Jeremy Irons, James Earl Jones
The Plot – A young lion prince (Broderick) is cast out of his pride by his cruel uncle (Irons), who claims he killed his father (Jones). While the uncle rules with an iron paw, the prince grows up beyond the Savannah, living by a philosophy: No worries for the rest of your days. But when his past comes to haunt him, the young prince must decide his fate: Will he remain an outcast or face his demons and become what he needs to be?
– G-rating. What astonishes me about this film is that it was one of the last non-documentary cinematic releases to be stamped with the rare G-rating, that is often times looked at as a statue of limitations, but here is executed brilliantly to never hinder or demean the film’s potential in material. Aside from the scenes of war and loss coming across as emotionally effective despite showing so very little to us the audience, the themes in the script mature at the rate of speed that its central protagonist does, transitioning us into a third act where the urgency of the film is very in-tuned to the pulse of the unraveling narrative, eventually building to a high-stakes final conflict that has immense consequences that are tastefully carried out. G-rated films in 2019 are as dry as paper, but in 1994 there was an animated movie that touched on the concepts of love, loss, evolution, and jealousy fruitfully, and it’s one that resonates loudly twenty-five years later as the film that didn’t abide by a letter grade.
– Memorable soundtrack. Hans Zimmer and Elton John on the same compilation? Phenomenal. The work done by these two masterminds of music led to a collection of timeless hits and infectious energy that can only be ignored by the heartless, and led to one of the highest grossing soundtracks in cinema history. Not only are the songs reflective of the storytelling beats, not only are they thunderous in the way that everything in frame plays into the heart of the performance, but they also transpire seamlessly at the perfect opportune time at each moment of the changing dynamic to not violently halt the storytelling. Some of my personal favorites are “Circle of Life”, “Hakuna Matata”, and the terribly underrated “Be Prepared”. Not to be outdone by lyrical tracks, however, Zimmer manufactures a presence of the Pride Lands of Africa that constantly persists throughout 83 minutes of brief screen time, outlining an original flavor of geography for the time that better allowed audiences to immerse themselves in the heat of the environment, perfecting every angle of the setting gimmick that gives it consistent weight throughout the film.
– Unmatched cast. This film is easily the winner for best animated ensemble of all time for me, not just for the prestigious names involved with the picture, but also for the highly transformative vocal work that makes it increasingly difficult to imagine anyone else in these roles. In that respect, Jones, Broderick, and especially Irons do such a tremendous job that it often feels like their vocal range is emoting to the movement of the animation, and never vice versa, and it’s that aspect that brings out extreme believability with their influence to the character’s. For Jones, it’s a combination of brawn and heart that etch out the ultimate protector not only for Simba, but for his entire kingdom that depends on him. The tag-team work of teen dream Jonathan Taylor-Thomas and Broderick conjure up a believable transfer of character in Simba that echo the ideals of childhood and adulthood respectively, and make the transformation gel smoothly for a character who grows in size and responsibility before our very eyes. Irons is the true M.V.P for me however, as Scar, the jaded uncle antagonist with a thirst for power that knows no boundaries. Irons chews up an abundance of scenery with his arrogantly sarcastic personality, never hiding for a second the hatred he harvests for those who wear the crown that he deems should rightfully be his, and it’s a conflict that is not only easy to understand in that aspect, but also one that hinders on one of the seven deadly sins (Greed) that echo the devilish demeanor of such a dangerous antagonist.
– Extremely quotable. The dialogue in the film feels as sharp as a dagger, and a lot of that has to do with screenwriters Linda Woolverton, Jonathan Roberts, and Irene Mecchi’s to channel the roller-coaster of emotional vulnerability that keeps it from persistently remaining in one particular genre of material, giving audiences the right level of change at the perfectly precise moment. One example of this is after Mufasa’s untimely death, which is followed by the introduction of Timon and Pumba, leading to the proper amount of comic relief after the single biggest gut-punch of the movie. These two character’s are responsible for many spirited one-liners that have become philosophies of die-hard Disney fans for generations of past, present, and future, but none bigger than Hakuna Matata, the mantra of living without worries. It feels like the perfect branch to Que Sera Sera, and adds importance to a second act that could easily trail off without that proper execution of mood change that I mentioned previously that values the fun in a screenplay as much as it does the dramatic elements.
– Fluid screenplay. What works to the benefit of the movie’s pacing is its ability to pack so much into an 83 minute run time, yet never feel limited by the tiers in the narrative that it constantly touches on. This is a film that continues to march forward, even during the scenes of dramatic mourning that likely made audiences feel like a necessary cool down period. The movie’s notorious death sequence happens with a measly 46 minutes left in the film, choosing to build the relationship between father, son, and the kingdom in depth up to this point, all the while telegraphing the moves of the board for the opposition that awaits him. It feels like we’re seeing each side, good and bad, every step of the way, leading to that previously mentioned confrontation that doesn’t disappoint for heartstring tugging or permanence within a usually light-hearted kids atmosphere. Beyond this, the second and beginning of third acts construct a crossroads for Simba’s past and present, bringing a balance of emphatic reunions and maturity to the protagonist that proves his fate for the throne. When all is said and done, there are 13 minutes left for the showdown between uncle and nephew, and while not the longest or most elaborate in terms of fight choreography, does excel in audience vulnerability for how many of the battle beats strike a familiar chord with the second act fight that took the life of the original king. This film is constantly engaging, and never lags or distracts from the material for a single solitary second.
– The perfect antagonist. Part of what allures you to Scar as an endearing villain is in the way Irons emotes him, but beyond that it’s the way that his actions capture the entire spectrum of devilish deeds, otherwise known as the seven deadly sins. He believes himself to be deserving of power. He also refuses to abandon the Pride Lands, even if it means the death of his subjects (Pride). He acts indolent even as the Pride Lands fall into ruin. (Sloth) He enjoys food while letting the rest of his kingdom, including his loyal followers, starve (Gluttony). He is envious of his brother and nephew for getting the throne, and plots their deaths for it (Envy). In a deleted scene, he comes onto Nala, eager to produce heirs(Lust). He wants power and will destroy anyone to get it. (Greed) He gets enraged when Mufasa is mentioned to him, and he attacks Sarabi for comparing him unfavorably to Mufasa (Wrath). Most Disney antagonists have at least one redeeming quality about them that hints at an air of conscience persisting deep down, but Scar is an empty shell of a man so deceitfully sinister that he gladly sacrifices family if it means attaining the things he wants, a first for Disney antagonists at this point, that was later followed by Hades in in 1997’s “Hercules”.
– Aged well animation. Despite the lack of depth and detail associated with the backgrounds in some tight character angles of framing, the vibrancy in illustrations of animals and environment in the foreground generates a level of artistic merit that I’d easily put up against 80% of today’s animated advancements. Slow motion effects, expansive facial expression resonation, and no shortage of high intensity framing movements gives the film a maturity well beyond its years in terms of capabilities, and really stood as the measuring stick for animated feature length films well before the dawn of Disney Pixar. In addition to this, the haze cinematography is just enough of a presence in each frame without taking too much away from the vibrancy in production design that radiates with the influence of sunbaked scenery. This is a film that gets most of its attention for music and screenplay, and not quite enough for the luster of the lens that immediately captures your attention high atop a cliff during life’s sweetest celebration. In that perspective, “The Lion King” isn’t just a film, but an admiration for all things life, love, and family, and the poetic imagery of visual transfixion does wonders in relaying to the audience the things in life that are most important.
– Modern day Shakespaere. Part of what makes “The Lion King” so compelling and rich in its hierarchy setting is that it’s positively derived from arguably William Shakespeare’s biggest work of literature. Don’t believe me? Lets examine. Simba, like Hamlet, is the king in grooming, both feature an uncle who is eager to kill their nephew for the benefit of gaining the throne, Timon and Pumba easily echo the same comedy-instilled sidekicks that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern do for Hamlet, both Simba and Hamlet are driven by the ghosts of their fathers appearing to them in a vision, and the overbearing similarities of graveyards in each story, which involve jokester antagonists like the gravediggers (Hamlet) and the hyenas (The Lion King). Calling this a coincidence is a bit of a stretch, but even so, there’s no denying that Disney beautifully blends the worlds of stage and safari seamlessly, making for a screenplay that proves that great literature is immortal when redesigned to accommodate the era that borrows it.
– Lack of female influence. Between Nala and Sarabi, I couldn’t escape this overwhelming presence that female character’s simply don’t apply as much as a necessary influence to the dynamic of the film, and more than not serve as virtual arm candy for the happenings around their male counterparts. Nala receives screen time, but when you consider that there’s never a scene of lone reflection for her that doesn’t involve Simba in the very same scene, you start to conjure up feelings that the story isn’t interested in what she lost that fateful day. Likewise, Sarabi, Simba’s mother, goes missing for ample amounts of time after scenes that rightfully should include her, if only to document her reaction to immense loss. She has a few scenes, but what’s most concerning is that the film never answers if she is still the queen of the land after her husband’s untimely passing, and more than this why she isn’t at the crowning ceremony during the film’s closing shot.
– A tragic misstep. This is all personal opinion, but I feel like Mufasa died in the wrong scene during the movie. He is ambushed by a herd of wild animals, the trio of hyenas, and of course his own brother Scar, at the height of a casual day of training between father and son. This does very little for Simba in terms of emotional tug, because even though he lost his father to disgusting circumstances, it happens during a scene where Simba is obeying the royal parental unit, thus nothing of substance to regret about that fateful day. Now imagine if the death actually took place in the bone graveyard scene instead, during a defiance of his father, which would then lead him to lose the person who matters the most to him. The weight of his immature decision would weigh even heavier on the conscience of the boy, thus outlining a much stronger character arc and internal conflict for him to overcome in the way of adversity. The finished product death scene is fine, but a conflicted protagonist always feels leagues more relatable to the audience, and could’ve practically doubled the dramatic heft of the passing, that would only further enhance Simba’s distancing from the place he once called home.
My Grade: 8/10 or A-