The Lion King is an eventful Disney origin story

Barry Jenkins is too good a director to completely disappear within the creative confines of “Mufasa: The Lion King.” This fast-paced origin story from the Disney musical prequel will do the trick for families looking to avoid a second or third viewing of “Moana 2” or “Wicked” this month.

Here’s my main problem: the visual style chosen for whatever you want to call this film (live action? digital animation? photorealistic doctoring? show music sung through gritted teeth into the barely open mouths of incredibly believable lions?) is- is it really the best way to go?

The film features a seven-song setlist by composer and lyricist Lin-Manuel Miranda. The songwriter has (in so many words) characterized his work here as periodic relief from a scenario he rightly describes as “heartbreaking.” The framework finds the character of Rafiki the mandrill comforting a frightened young lioness named Kiara, daughter of Simba and Nala, granddaughter of Mufasa, the late beneficent ruler of the Lion Lands. The tale of how a young orphan Mufasa was adopted by the ruling family of another lion pride is interrupted by unamusing questions, comments and chatter from Kiara and her nominal guardians, Pumbaa (a warthog) and Timon (meerkat).

“Mufasa: The Lion King” is 90 percent chaos, peril and distress, and 10 percent thought-provoking, meaning it’s a two-hour exercise in cliffhangers, threats of death and (skipping a few plotlines here) the search for Mufasa for his presumed disappearance. deceased parents.

Much of the story bears an uncanny resemblance to “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” with Mufasa and his new brother Taka (aka Scar) pursued by bloodthirsty snow-white lions of vicious pride. Mufasa is searching for the golden lands of Tanzanian pride that he left behind. He is accompanied on his mountainous journey by Taka, accompanied by Rafiki, who leads the way; the lioness Sarabi, intrigued by Mufasa’s natural leadership qualities and charisma and less by Taka’s lack of charisma; and young Zazu, the red-billed hornbill.

It’s a double origin story, as we learn how Mufasa became king and how Scar became Scar. From that point of view, it’s quite depressing, as is the general quality of the musical material. This second point is really a surprise, coming from a craftsman like Miranda, who doesn’t give a damn and doesn’t call. But the storyline doesn’t sing easily, and on first listen, only the wandering song titled “We Go Together” (not to be confused with the favorite “Grease”) posits a nifty, compact notion of traveling alone or traveling together, attached to a rhythmic melody that builds regularly.

The film rarely rests. The camera’s eye doesn’t stop with the pivoting and rotating bobs and zigzags around the lions, fighting or singing in duets. Director Jenkins and cinematographer James Laxton can theoretically do anything with this camera and they choose to do almost everything: GoPro approximations, drone shot approximations, aerial spins. Some of them are effective, others are not. And all of this – the clinical realism, the brutal immediacy of the violence, the almost immeasurable distance between this style and more interesting, poetic and expressive animation techniques – makes us watch only because of the turmoil that is brewing.