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.

Bros (2022)

Score: 4.5 / 5

It's giving GAY! Four years after the much-hyped Love, Simon in 2018 broke the mold on major studios catering to mass audiences with healthy gay protagonists and themes, we finally get a cute and sweet adult rom-com with a theatrical release. Let's just do a quick breakdown of the burning questions. Yes, it's hilarious. Yes, it's progressive. Yes, it's sweet and hot and takes queer stories into the spotlight (and the future) in ways few films do, even these days. Yes, even straight people should see it, although I expect some may have trouble keeping up without help explaining certain cultural touchpoints in the rapid-fire dialogue. Yes, it fits firmly in the mold of classic rom-coms and features compelling lead performances. And yes, one might argue that its placement in mainstream media undermines its own commentary (read: critiques) on the mainstreaming of queerness culturally. 

You can tell Bros is a labor of love for its creators, including director/writer Nicholas Stoller and co-writer Billy Eichner, who also stars. Eichner plays Bobby Leiber, the gay New Yorker for the 21st century: he hosts a woke queer podcast and daylights as director of the first national queer history museum that is just about to open. He's forty and single, and he's spent his adulthood navigating disappointing hookups while he convinces himself that being single is the best thing for himself. He is keenly aware of his cishet white privileges, to say nothing of his education, occupation, or conventional attractiveness, and can't really help himself from bringing queer culture or his own identity into conversations with others; basically, he's the trailblazing millennial who fought for his identity and now has trouble relating in any other way. 

This reaches its peak, narratively and comedically, in scenes where he meets with his board of directors for the museum. Bros is packed with cameos and bit parts for big stars, and scenes like these serve as excellent highlights for the thinly written supporting cast. It's a bit annoying that his board is a bunch of stereotypes (butch lesbian, indignant bisexual, a Black transwoman, and a nonbinary person), but he smartly plays off that queer people generally know how to laugh at themselves, so it's never really offensive humor. But the film is primarily Eichner's, and so the plot primarily works through his burgeoning romantic life, sparked when he meets Aaron (Luke Macfarlane of Single All the Way) at a gay club. They like each other, but they're both a bit disillusioned by romance. Naturally, in the vibe of such Nora Ephron-esque setup, they're about to find themselves in the familiar trenches of romantic comedy. They date, they fight, they meet family, they have sex, they do all the typical things but in a distinctly queer way. They bicker knowingly about Grindr, gym rats, orgies, even that odd but cute gay throuple who keeps popping up, and almost every scene includes some reference to a queer icon (even Garth Brooks earns a running joke). 

And that's where I feel a bit conflicted in my feelings about this film. Its meta humor works best when it is as metafictional as possible. While that might be indicative of our culture right now, it makes for tiring film viewing. I don't want to keep up with dialogue in a film the same way I scroll through Facebook for news and new slang. It's annoying to be constantly reminded of other queer media and to be fed Eichner's (or, arguably, Bobby's) opinions about everything from Cher to Schitt's Creek. Yes, it's frustrating to Eichner and to us that Hallmark only started making gay Christmas films when they realized they could profit from it, but that's also kind of what Eichner is doing with Bros. 

That said, as someone who relates both to Bobby and to his style of detached cultural critique, I found his reference points almost as tiring as the fact that he can't stop referring to other media. He touches on most of the major titles millennials would recognize (Brokeback Mountain, Call Me By Your Name, etc.) and all but lambasts them -- which is fine with me, to an extent -- but he completely ignores significant and much more progressive titles such as The Broken Hearts Club or Moonlight. In ignoring these, Bros manages to ignore critical queer pioneers in film history (and therefore cultural history) even as it attempts to convince us and itself of its efforts to reveal queer history. If it were acting as the pioneer it pretends to be, it would honor its own genre and predecessors. That's the danger of being too self-aware.

The Lion King (2019)

Score: 2.5 / 5

There are, to my mind, two reasons to remake a Disney classic. The first is simply to retell the story using improved cinematic techniques and use live action (I'll always prefer live action to animation, so sue me); this method also should involve some small alteration to the story, making it timely or less problematic or more revealing. Think Beauty and the Beast and The Jungle Book. The second is to take the bones of the original and totally re-dress it for more or less "new" purposes; think Dumbo and Pete's Dragon.

The Lion King does neither, and takes a different path (let's hope this new venture dead-ends quickly). The newest in a laundry list of Disney flicks is very nearly a shot-for-shot remake of the original animated film. While I've never felt as passionately about the groundbreaking original as many do, I was excited for this film because of the live-action aspect of it (actually, I don't think this counts as live-action; perhaps lifelike-action?). And this is indeed gorgeous to behold. The realized animals are nothing short of dazzling on the big screen.

In fact, this film is so incredibly lifelike that more than once I felt I was watching a DisneyNature documentary set to Hans Zimmer's iconic music. It's an amazing work of art, especially in some of the hyper-realistic storytelling techniques director Jon Favreau is pioneering lately. For example, "I Just Can't Wait to Be King" features the little cubs and their animal friends singing and causing chaos at the water hole; unlike the cartoon's circus fantasy version of this song, this film depicts a more or less realistic version of baby animals playing around. It's no less entertaining, and really fascinating from an artistic perspective.

Other than a few such moments of realistic beauty -- and the general gorgeous aesthetic of the film -- nothing else whatsoever provides a reason for this version to exist. There is no buttressing of the story with new episodes, no new songs (or additional ones from, for example, the stage musical), no thematic or character shifts. We do get some extra time with Sarabi (Alfre Woodard, thank heaven), and hints at feminist energy. Early on, when Zazu (John Oliver) warns Mufasa (James Earl Jones) that hyenas are in the land and the lionnesses are fighting them, Mufasa goes to "help", rather than save or some other hooey. In one critical moment, much later as Scar (Chiwetel Ejiofor) attempts to induce Sarabi to mate with him, he says that Mufasa is only king because Sarabi chose him, suggesting Sarabi is actually the royalty of the Pridelands. Interesting, if empty.

Worse yet, the voice actors are almost entirely phoned-in, at least to my ears. Beyonce (as Nala) and Woodard are lovely as always, but don't get to do much in the way of acting. Donald Glover (playing Simba) and Ejiofor are downright uninspired, sounding bored at best, and James Earl Jones sounds as though he's been doing Mufasa in his sleep for decades (he probably has). Oliver's Zazu is fine and Billy Eichner and Seth Rogen are absolutely hilarious as Timon and Pumbaa, but it's hard to swallow that in such a talented cast, only the white guys get to have fun and steal the show.

And speaking of fun, I had lots of fun in the first half of this movie. The hyenas are, unfortunately, not so funny but rather dangerous. Which is fine, if disappointing. Similarly, Scar is too deadpan and bitter to be an exciting villain; he's chilling, to be sure, but never memorable. Perhaps that's why they cut his song: "Be Prepared" is the film's biggest disappointment, as the second half of the song is entirely cut and the first half consists of Ejiofor growling and shouting. Why? The man can sing, so let him sing!

By the second half, the disappointments came more steadily. Rafiki is barely a character and totally forgettable. When Simba looks into the sky to see his father, all we see are swirling clouds. In the climactic fight atop Pride Rock, the editing jerks us between unidentifiable shapes with little or no logic or clarity of vision. I got downright angry when Beyonce's glorious new song "Spirit" is cut to about a chorus and a bridge, and only played as background music as Nala and Simba race across the desert.

It's all beautiful and disappointing, even for someone like me who doesn't much care about the original. Give me the stage musical any day.