The Lion King (2019)

 

The Low-Down: For the past decade, Disney has dedicated an immense amount of resources to translating its classic animated films into live-action blockbusters – with varying degrees of success. This new incarnation of The Lion King is unusual because it is, in itself, another kind of animated film: all its creatures, great and small, are computer-generated to look photo-real. The technical wizardry on display is undoubtedly impressive. But the final film winds up undermining its own existence – what is the point of re-making something that evidently works so much better with traditional hand-drawn animation?

The Story: If you’ve seen the original 1994 film, there’ll be no surprises here. We are introduced to the adorable Simba (voiced by JD McCrary as a cub, before ageing into Donald Glover), the little prince who will one day lead his pride as a king. But even the best-laid succession plans crumble into dust when Simba’s sinister uncle, Scar (Chiwetel Ejiofor), plots against reigning king Mufasa (James Earl Jones). After tragedy strikes, Simba is forced to build a new life for himself – even though his true destiny lies far closer to home.

The Good: There’s no denying that the cutting-edge technology used to bring Simba’s pridelands to life is really quite remarkable. It’s photo-real in a way that probably wasn’t possible even a few years ago, and you’d be forgiven for thinking you’ve stumbled onto a sublimely shot nature documentary if you watch this film without the sound on. That’s not advisable, however, as director Jon Favreau clearly put some effort into engineering a new soundscape for the film. Elton John’s score is beautifully refreshed, mixed with a fresh energy and rhythm that work very well (even though the new songs – Beyonce’s Spirit and John’s end-credits number, Never Too Late – aren’t particularly memorable). The new voice cast is mostly very appealing. Glover never quite manages to slip under Simba’s skin, but Ejiofor deliciously unearths several shades of evil as Scar, and John Oliver is a hoot as fluttery hornbill advisor Zazu.

The Not-So-Good: The biggest problem with this film is that its best feature also happens to be its worst. This new kind of photo-real animation looks great, but it somehow manages to appear life-like while lacking any actual life. As it turns out, hyper-realistic lions can’t emote or talk like humans, so it borders on the ridiculous (and unnerving) to have them do just that. Moments that broke your heart in the original 1994 film might make you giggle 25 years later. It’s unfortunate, too, that Favreau’s film hews so closely to its predecessor’s script and story beats. With that crucial spark of life – or soul, as it were – already missing from these lions, you’ll only become more aware of the weaknesses that have always been a part of Simba’s rather patchy emotional trajectory. (Chiefly: does he actually learn anything? Guilt and grief alone do not a character’s growth make.)

Comic Relief: Favreau’s film almost slavishly follows its predecessor, except it allows comedians Billy Eichner and Seth Rogen a little room to riff as Timon (meerkat) and Pumbaa (warthog) respectively. Together, they provide some of the film’s funniest – as well as its most annoying – moments. In one instance, they make an inspired reference to another classic Disney movie that’s a surefire crowd-pleaser, even though its cheeky meta-textuality adds to the film’s tonal woes.

Recommended? Not particularly. This Lion King is more misfire than masterpiece.

 

12 Years A Slave (2013)

Everyday, the world trades in power and privilege: the rich exploit the poor, the privileged ignore the plights of the underclass. Unfair and horrifying though these systems might be, the practice of slavery in America remains one of the most terrifying examples of the depths to which mankind can sink. The notion that black people were the unthinking, unfeeling, unimportant property of there white overlords was not merely a repulsive belief: it was an institution, written into law and fiercely protected by those who benefited the most from it. In telling the tale of its beleaguered protagonist, 12 Years A Slave is both heartbreaking biopic and searing indictment – a reminder that, when we give in to our darkest selves, there is no need for demon or devil: we are bad enough.

In pre-Civil War America, Solomon Northup (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is a black man – literate, cultured, free – living with his family in New York. The idyll of his life is shattered the day he is abducted and sold into slavery. Once he’s been smuggled into the deep South, where he is treated and regarded as less than human, he passes from one slave-owner to another, forced to swallow his intelligence, pride and dignity in order to survive each day. For twelve brutal, horrifying years, Solomon endures under the name of runaway slave Platt – bearing witness to the regime of oppression that holds dark, horrible sway over his fellow slaves.

Running throughout the film is the inescapable notion that Solomon is granted the right to live – one that surely belongs to every human being by default – by the white men he encounters. There’s Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch), a gentle, relatively benevolent owner who remains trapped within his own time and privilege. And then there’s Edwin Epps (Michael Fassbender), hatefully bullying and torturing his slaves while neglecting his cold, bitter wife (Sarah Paulson). When he tries to secure his freedom by telling his story to men he hopes might help him (played separately by Garret Dillahunt and Brad Pitt), Solomon encounters both grace and rejection.

In every respect, 12 Years A Slave is a difficult, painful watch – as well it should be. There is no escapism here; no happiness or joy or delight in humanity. Director Steve McQueen’s film is unrelentingly grim: the blank, incomprehensible cruelty of Solomon’s owners is all the more devastating for how offhand it is. Solomon is paraded about by Freeman (Paul Giamatti), a boorish slave-trader with a deeply ironic name, as one would show off a prize horse. Slaves who have laboured all day in the plantations are terrorised even at night: whether for amorous night-time visits from their masters, or to dance jerkily like automatons for their entertainment.

There are few scenes more emotionally shattering than the ones involving Patsey (a spellbinding Lupita Nyong’o), Epps’ most productive cotton-picker by day, the object of his brutal lust at night. Solomon’s emotional journey is shaped greatly by his interaction with her. He is forced not only to become a slave, but also a man who allows the worst atrocities to befall someone else to ensure his own survival. In a shudderingly awful scene, Solomon must harm and hurt her according to their master’s whim – it’s a moment that will wring shock, horror and tears from the hardest of hearts. All the more tragic is the fact that Patsey still offers him the right over her life: the way his is at the mercy of his owners.

The performances McQueen has captured from his cast are uniformly excellent: brave, bold and heartwrenching in equal measure. Ejiofor is fantastic: he retains Solomon’s heart and humanity amidst all the casual atrocities he suffers. He plays the role without fanfare, allowing the horror he undoubtedly feels to shine in his eyes as Solomon lives on the edge of a life that could be snatched from him at any moment. Nyong’o is marvellous: a broken soul barely holding onto a life she knows is completely wrong. Fassbender, too, delivers an utterly riveting turn, which is all the more impressive because he manages to unearth the rotted psyche of Epps in a way that makes him both monster and human.

Perhaps the only thing that somewhat undermines the power of 12 Years A Slave is the fact that it comes at the practice of slavery from so comparatively privileged a position. Solomon Northup’s story is true, more or less (some liberties have been taken for dramatic purposes), but it’s also the tale of someone special: he was not born into slavery, and he thus had a way out – privileges not available to the millions of victims who stand at the periphery and in the background of his story.

Nevertheless, 12 Years A Slave is a worthy, important, unmissable watch. It doesn’t contain much in the way of lightness or joy, and you should prepare to be educated more than entertained, horrified more than amused, terrified more than thrilled. But, tough as it may (and should) be to stomach, this is without a doubt a film for the heart, soul and mind – it’s in the darkest of depths, after all, that one must go exploring to gain a real appreciation of the beauty of sunlight.

Basically: Utterly brutal… and utterly unmissable.