Jay Rohr
Mufasa: The Lion King is a potent tragedy. This prequel no one asked for seems to take a second bite of a mostly eaten cookie. Yet, director Barry Jenkins appears to have noted the missteps of the 2019’s reimagined The Lion King and composed an inspiring cinematic experience. If not for a few distracting stumbles, such as the music, this might have been a masterpiece.
On a stormy evening, wise Rafiki (John Kani) sits with the frightened lion cub Kiara (Blue Ivy Carter). He tells her how her grandfather Mufasa (Braelyn Rankins) was separated from his family. Lost in the wilderness, Taka (Theo Somolu) saved him and the two became like brothers. Then the Outsiders descended on the land. Kiros (Mads Mikkelsen) and his pride of white lions killed all they encountered, and though Taka ran away with his adopted brother, escape would lead the two to themselves.
Mufasa isn’t terribly subtle when it comes to many of its themes. As a children’s movie, that’s forgivable. Those who have perceived the previous picture as a fascist narrative can rest assured the prequel undoes many of those implications. It even addresses them in certain respects.
Along the way Mufasa makes some unmistakable criticisms about the odiousness of white power, which is a sadly necessary lesson these days. It also offers subtler observations about bitterness, entitlement, and the need for forgiveness as well as traditional notions of heroism. More impressive is the effort to tell a story not about an individual savior, but the need for society to collectively unite in pursuit of morally upstanding goals.
I was really intrigued by the film’s sense of honesty. Besides the fact Taka is encouraged to be deceitful by certain characters, Mufasa opens with a lesson on unreliable narrators. There is an immediate sense this story may not be factual, yet the importance of inspirational narratives is demonstrated by how it affects Kiara. Overall, perspective matters.
When it comes to the music of Mufasa criticism might seem peculiar. On the one hand, Lin-Manuel Miranda of Hamilton fame provides smooth songs that keep the narrative alive. Lyrically, they never stop informing the story without turning into declarative statements of emotions or intentions. Though these tunes don’t stop the film’s flow, none of them are memorable. It’s hard to believe anyone is going to leave the theater humming “I Always Wanted a Brother” and the villain’s big number “Bye Bye” actually makes him less intimidating.
Still, filmmakers worked with these songs. The performance of “Tell Me It’s You” is wonderfully choreographed featuring superbly poetic visuals. Although it is easily forgettable, “I Always Wanted a Brother” is cinematically playful, reminiscent of the first Lion King‘s “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King” while telling its own tale of burgeoning brotherhood. It’s like music videos that are more memorable than the songs in them.
The voice cast of Mufasa is mostly marvelous. Many of the main performers provide a mix of emotions. Aaron Pierre (Krypton, Rebel Ridge) does an amazing job of imbuing adult Mufasa with a certain hesitance– a reluctant leader finding greatness thrust on him by necessity. Tiffany Boone (Hunters) gives Sarabi a tenderness at times that’s never belied by displays of primal authority. Meanwhile, Kelvin Harrison Jr. (Chevalier) is outstanding as Taka, adopting qualities in his vocal performance that remind of Jeremy Irons and Chiwetel Ejiofor while remaining his own. There’s an outstanding sense of the villain developing as well as the emotions moving Taka towards the darkness that will make him Scar.
There’s a certain meta-irony in casting a nepo baby in a lead role in a film about how people aren’t entitled to a place at the top of society. However, that’s an issue perhaps better explored in an op-ed. Here, Blue Ivy Carter makes her acting debut as Kiara, and she does a wonderful job of voicing the young cub. Although one could argue the animation’s irresistibly adorable nature does a lot of the heavy lifting, the twelve-year-old does an excellent job playing a child. She certainly outshines her mother.
Beyoncé reprises her role as Nala from director Jon Favreau’s previous hit film, but her lines are expressed with the least amount of effort. That said, she literally has maybe five sentences total so never really tarnishes the movie. The same can’t be said for Timon and Pumbaa, once again voiced by Seth Rogen (Pineapple Express) and Billy Eichner (Billy on the Street). They often break the main narrative to do bits which are supposed to be comedic. However, the whole film would work a thousand times better without a second of either. They interrupt a more entertaining and captivating story for bad jokes as well as oddly placed self-referential metacommentary that’s the opposite of clever.
The animation is astounding. Unlike the 2019 incarnation, Mufasa manages to anthropomorphize its characters with believable expressions. In addition, the look of certain animals borders on cute overload. What’s best, though, is that Barry Jenkins never has them act in ways too outside of their animal nature. This gives this naturalistic fairy tale a certain engrossing realism.
With Mufasa, celebrated Moonlight director Barry Jenkins reminds why he’s an Academy Award winner. This film is a wonderful synergy of cinematic style blended with a fable’s informative morals. While the prequel sets out to settle certain matters of Lion King lore, the more valuable aspects of the movie are the lessons it delivers. These are done directly without ever talking down to an intended audience of children. However, much is still done to keep things visually engaging in ways that are captivating but whenever possible poetic.
Mufasa is a wonderfully entertaining animated feature. Regardless of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s best efforts, it would have worked better without any musical theatrics. Further amputations could include the reprisal of Timon and Pumbaa, who add nothing except minutes to the movie. However, they never stall things out to the point that the whole picture fails. Barry Jenkins visually sculpts a script by Jeff Nathanson (returning after penning the 2019 remake) into a fun, albeit tragic, tale well-worth seeing. Mufasa proves you don’t have to be perfect to be important.
