Review: The Jungle Book

The Jungle Book (PG)

USA 2016 Dir: Jon Favreau Cast: Neel Sethi, Bill Murray, Ben Kingsley, Idris Elba, Christopher Walken, Scarlet Johansson, Lupita Nyong’o, Giancarlo Esposito

King of the swingers or jungle RIP? It’s a delight to report that helmer Jon Favreau’s glitzy Disney reboot mostly falls on the side of the former. A beautifully realised family adventure, it manages the nifty trick of honouring the whimsical legacy of the beloved 1967 animation whilst also reinvesting us in the dark gravitas of author Rudyard Kipling’s original stories, a blend that in Favreau’s hands is largely as seamless as the extraordinary visual effects making up its jungle world.

Then again Favreau has always been a somewhat underrated director, showcasing (in his best work) an affinity for solidly bolstered storytelling, memorable characters and just the right sprinkling of humour. Thankfully, The Jungle Book draws more on the infectious spirit of Elf, Chef and his Marvel trendsetter Iron Man than the clunky Cowboys and Aliens, hitting the ground running (literally) in its opening moments, as we segue from the Disney logo to the immersive, fully CGI jungle environment during a thrilling opening chase sequence.

As composer John Debney (reuniting with Favreau for the fourth time) skilfully transitions from the strains of George Bruns’ 1967 score to his own richly melodic material, we pick up with our ‘man-cub’ hero Mowgli (newcomer Neel Sethi) being schooled in the ways of his adopted wolf tribe by noble panther Bagheera (voiced to imperious perfection by Ben Kingsley). Having been raised by lupine pair Raksha (Lupita Nyong’o) and Akela (Giancarlo Esposito), Mowgli’s life appears complete – until a water truce necessitated by the dry season brings him into contact with ferocious man-eating tiger Shere Khan (given life, with no small amount of relish, by Idris Elba). The scarred Khan’s hatred of humans means he sees the boy as a violation of the jungle’s laws and he vows to kill him, prompting Mowgli to wrenchingly leave his tribe and journey to the safety of the man-village.

The movie’s visual splendour cannot be underestimated. Bar a few props with which Sethi interacted on set, the entirety of the lush jungle environment was rendered by CGI, everything from the foliage to the animals’ fur and the showers of rain pouring from the skies. It’s an astonishing achievement but surely the greatest compliment is that one barely notices whilst the film is playing: so convincing is the world Favreau creates and so pacy is his storytelling that it only sinks in after viewing what an incredible achievement this is. Favreau has cited blockbusters like Avatar and Gravity as aspirational touchstones when it came to realising The Jungle Book and the film’s intoxicating environment demands to be absorbed for years to come.

Indeed the most impressive thing about the movie is how alive it feels: far from being a plasticised, soulless affair, the jungle is a living, breathing, beautiful character in its own right, due in no small part to the terrifically realised animal characters that also encompass the unmistakeable tones of Bill Murray as the eternally laid-back sloth bear Baloo, Christopher Walken as sinister gigantopithecus King Louie and Scarlett Johansson as seductive snake Kaa. All of the stars are perfectly chosen with Murray the snarkily affable standout, although one odd by-product of the brilliantly realised CGI creations is that our flesh and blood hero Mowgli perhaps resonates less vividly; props however to Sethi for convincingly acting opposite absolutely nothing (surely a discombobulating experience for any actor, let alone one so young).

Favreau and screenwriter Justin Marks also pitch the movie pretty perfectly between the kiddie-friendly, be-bop theatrics of Disney’s original animated classic (not an especially faithful interpretation, let’s be honest) and the more substantive leanings of Kipling’s source. It’s a movie that’s not afraid of juxtaposing the jubilant tones of Murray’s reworked Bare Necessities with the more visceral action involving Shere Khan, but what’s really great is how Favreau melds these two approaches together: it’s both lighthearted and a mature exploration of the laws of nature, a movie that’s sure to dazzle youngsters whilst also giving them a frisson of threat.

Although not all of it works (Walken’s out-of-place take on I Wanna Be Like You clangs within the context of the story, and the script does occasionally feel like it’s ticking off the requisite Jungle Book clichés), the reverence for the story itself resounds through every picture postcard frame. When Johansson’s superbly sibilant take on Trust In Me rolls over the end credits, one can’t help but feel the title acts as a message from Favreau to us the audience: as it turns out, we really ought to have trusted in this fine craftsman to deliver an effects-heavy blockbuster where the overall feel is one of sweetness and affection as opposed to corporate soullessness. And that’s exactly what he’s done.