Mufasa: The Lion King (2024)

Score: 3 / 5

Remember when Disney made sequels to its major animated features as direct-to-home-video flings? We all had one we liked. With few exceptions, we can all agree most of them were "bad," and while I generally don't use or approve of such evaluative words, I do agree that most were subpar technically and artistically in most aspects of their existence. Some are still fun, though, and a select few include some really brilliant moments. The Lion King was no exception to the Disney sequel tradition, spawning in addition to the Timon & Pumbaa television series, The Lion King II: Simba's Pride in 1998 and The Lion King 1½ in 2004. While The Lion King (1994) is simply not a favorite of mine (the stage musical far surpasses it in my esteem), its sequels are surprisingly among my preferred of the period. They include music and characters and humor that adds to my appreciation of the original rather than detracting or taking the material in a weird new direction.

Mufasa: The Lion King is in a similar vein, marking the first sequel to a Disney live action remake of a classic since (and I could be wrong here) 102 Dalmatians in 2000. The origin story of its title character, it's curious this is the film Disney chose to make after the passing of James Earl Jones, to whom they notably dedicate this picture. Young Mufasa learns about Milele, a mythical paradise which his small pride hopes to find, from his beloved parents (Anika Noni Rose and Keith David), from whom he is violently taken (and effectively orphaned) by a sudden flood. Saved from hungry crocodiles far downriver by another young cub named Taka, Mufasa is adopted into another pride, this one run by King Obasi (Lennie James). Obasi wants nothing to do with the outsider, but his son Taka and Taka's mother Eshe (Thandiwe Newton) care for him and raise him to be a conscientious and helpful leader in the pride. Cared for by the females, he learns to hunt and provide for the males.

While hunting, Mufasa and Eshe are attacked by two white lions, Mufasa killing one. The other escapes to its own pride of albino outcasts, led by Kiros (Mads Mikkelsen), whose son is now dead. Vowing revenge, Kiros leads the white lions to slaughter the royal pride. They do, with Mufasa and Taka barely escaping with their lives. Together, they work to find the lush oasis of Milele and live in peace with their new friends Sarabi (Tiffany Boone) and Rafiki (John Kani). But Kiros still hunts for them, and a final battle looms, fated, to determine the true king of... well, the Serengeti, I guess?

Much like the original classic, this story has the hallmarks of mythic storytelling and functions according to the logic of both fables and tragedies. As an origin story and personal trauma drama, Mufasa is an affecting if archetypal tale told with conviction and resonance. As a franchise entry -- following the "live action"-esque 2019 remake -- it adds some new lore and characterizations that I found fun and thoroughly entertaining. As a standalone film, however, this movie never quite reaches beyond itself and often feels a bit lost in its own visual splendor, a problem that plagued its predecessor. A few new musical numbers -- penned by Lin-Manuel Miranda, who I wish would just stop -- tend toward the forgettable, even if they do add some charm to the film's occasional doldrums. And as fan-service for a company seemingly doubling down on making money over telling worthy stories, Mufasa is pretty great, especially if the kid in you always wanted to know why Pride Rock looks the way it does, how Scar got his name and his wound, and why a possibly insane mandrill would bless a lion's cub.

Various elements will work for different audiences, and your endurance will be tested regardless. Visually, the whole thing is stunning, and frankly the ingenuity and shock of Kiros and his albino pride had me audibly gasping in the auditorium multiple times. Then again, the misadventure our heroes take through a snowy mountain pass felt forced and strange as far as spectacle goes, and made me want to look at a map for snowy mountain ranges in that region. In terms of voice acting, there's not much joy here, especially with the childish and wholly unnecessary framing story of Simba and Nala's daughter Kiara (Blue Ivy Carter) being scared by a thunderstorm and told the story of her grandfather by Rafiki while Timon and Pumbaa (Billy Eichner and Seth Rogen) recite an obnoxious series of low-brow jokes about bodily functions and Disney's legal department. But Mikkelsen is a welcome voice here, bringing suitably sly menace to a character not dissimilar from the villain we know and love, and the two leading stars (Aaron Pierre as Mufasa and Kelvin Harrison Jr. as Taka) carry the film capably.

What does work exceptionally well is director Barry Jenkins (Moonlight, If Beale Street Could Talk, The Underground Railroad), who was by no means in his element here. His work in American life is almost forgotten in this fantasy African realm of pseudo-realism, but the high-tech and enormous budget don't seem to scare or overwhelm the veteran auteur. His regular cinematographer James Laxton shoots things with a patience and interest that can only have been bred in real-time hands-on interaction with real actors physically embodying the lions in physical proximity. What is surely the state of the art will be revealed by others, but mark me: when inside details about how this film was created are clarified, movies will change for the better. Much like Peter Jackson's groundbreaking work on Gollum (and other creatures) in The Lord of the Rings, there is technology here that will pave the path forward to more realistic digital characters rooted firmly in live performances by actors. And Laxton draws us in with gentle and graceful approaches, which is not the norm for this studio, this genre, or this age. He makes you want to breathe deeply to experience this beautiful world through your other senses.

And while I wouldn't even say this is the best example of photorealistic moviemaking from Disney -- that accolade must still bejewel the crown of The Jungle Book -- it does improve upon The Lion King by treating its characters like actors rather than like animals who inexplicably dance and sing, choosing now to let them emote and express in increasingly accessible ways. I don't really like all Miranda's new music, but Jenkins makes them more interesting by staging and dramatizing them the way he does. In fact, I'd be interested to see if a film like this launches Jenkins into more mainstream fare, and I enthusiastically agree with a rumbling I read somewhere that he'd do well to direct a film adaptation of something like the Broadway hits Hamilton or Once on this Island. Jenkins isn't able to control the story here, and does feel a bit railroaded into his lane, but his choices within what is under his control are brilliant and help the movie rise above expectations set by what came before. The film pulses with energy and with artistry, and I couldn't look away from its splendor, even when studio and IP constraints threatened to bore me.

If Beale Street Could Talk (2018)

Score: 5 / 5

It's a nearly perfect film from the man who made last year's perfect film Moonlight. Barry Jenkins has done it again -- although, in my view, not quite as successfully -- with If Beale Street Could Talk, adapted from the James Baldwin novel.

Tish and Fonny are in trouble. Having been friends their whole lives, they eventually become lovers. Now she's pregnant with his child, but he's been framed for raping another woman. Tish must tell her truth to their families and plan how to support herself, her child, and Fonny's defense. Told in nonlinear episodes, the film weaves a mesmerizing tale of love through lovers, family, faith, and of course New York City.

Like his earlier film, Beale Street works best as a sensory exercise. Its impossibly beautiful score -- by composer Nicholas Britell -- sweeps your heart away while gorgeous photography of New York life -- by James Laxton -- steals your sight. Though the cinematography isn't as evocative as in Moonlight, here it does do well in focusing our attention on the human faces struggling for love. We're kept tight on various visages, daring us to investigate the souls of those whose lives we're intimately invading. It's exactly the kind of technique so alien to our culture of screens and speed and ironic distances; to be kept in often silent proximity with the windows to the soul of another human.

The screenplay here is a bit more articulate than in his earlier film, and while I didn't quite like it at first, it's hard to ignore the powerful voice of James Baldwin bleeding through. Further, while all the actors are uniformly doing excellent work -- they shine often when saying and doing nothing at all, only looking -- they manage to make the heightened dialogue sound not only normal but absolutely pure, wrapping their voices and our minds around weighty concepts and layers of meaning with each utterance.

The film's slow, melancholic visual and aural approach to storytelling may be too deliberate and cerebral for some, but it belies a surprisingly complex, detailed story. Timely and deeply disturbing, the romance set amidst contemporary race relations, gender dynamics, and grave injustice is also, at its core, a time-tested dramatic form in new trappings -- new color, if you will -- as a tale of pure hope in the face of evil society.

I personally didn't care for the intrusive use of stock photos depicting historical race relations, and I'm annoyed that Regina King didn't get more to work with in her role. Frankly the film didn't mean as much to me as the groundbreaking queer romance Moonlight did, but all these are just personal preferences. So while it's not my favorite example of the unbelievably beautiful craft of its director, Beale Street deserves all the praise in the world. Go see it. Go love it. Let the sounds and sights wash over you, and fall in love all over again. It's an amazing thing to experience.

Moonlight (2016)

Score: 5 / 5

Moonlight is one of those films impossible to effectively describe, because any attempt at doing so lessens its importance, impact, and beauty. But obviously I'm going to try to do that here.

In a form befitting its theatrical origin, the film follows young Chiron through three stages of his life, each named after the labels and identifiers others place upon him. It's a calm, calculated, and precise film, focusing in on the character drama at play as we quickly fall in love with our main man. With intimate camerawork and lyrical style, the film engrosses our attention as it seduces our senses, enveloping us in a very specific world we almost never see on the big screen.

Director Barry Jenkins leads with intoxicating compassion, setting up the places and people in his picture and almost immediately subverting our expectations, shattering stereotypes and narrative tropes with deceptive tranquility. Most importantly, he unravels his complex themes -- notably questions of identity -- in such a way that long-silenced voices may be heard loud and clear. Despite the seemingly preachy nature of its themes, including family, poverty, sexuality, black masculinity, gay masculinity, crime, addiction, and adolescence, the film doesn't actually try to get a single message across; rather, it offers us a glimpse of a beautiful life on the edge, and we are left with impressions and emotions and understanding, to handle as we are able. Chiron (played alternately by Alex Hibbert, Ashton Sanders, and the incredible Trevante Rhodes) ventures through a world of isolation and a culture in which he seeks meaningful connection, and as we follow him we lose ourselves to him. His silence speaks volumes, and in an otherwise somber picture, his life shines through as a flame of hope.

It's like nothing I've ever seen on film before. If I had to, I'd compare it to Boyhood in sheer scope and emotional effect. But where that film proudly declares its importance, Moonlight quietly slides under your skin and shakes you to the core. Its unassuming, unpretentious style paradoxically heightens the film beyond a simple story of a young man coming of age and turns it into an iconic masterpiece. See it. It'll change your life.

IMDb: Moonlight