There’s a second jungle onscreen in “The Legend of Tarzan,” in addition to the one populated by Congolese villagers, predatory Belgian colonialists and CGI animals, and festooned with conveniently placed vines that enable the titular hero to swing, like a shirtless Spider-Man, from tree to tree.
It’s the tangle of cinematic styles that sprout like weeds from every crack and crevice of this overblown – yet undeniably entertaining – effort to refashion Edgar Rice Burroughs’ 19th-century ape-man (played by a brooding, muscle-bound Alexander Skarsgard) for an audience used to X-Men and Avengers.
Case in point: the casting of Christoph Waltz and Samuel L. Jackson as, respectively, a villainous Belgian emissary to the Congo, Leon Rom, and George Washington Williams, a character only loosely based on an actual African-American historical figure who exposed colonial Belgium’s misdeeds in Africa. While they’re both great actors, the combination of Waltz’s patented amoral-sophisticate shtick with Jackson’s trademark trash talk and badass swagger lends the film an unfortunate Quentin Tarantino vibe that doesn’t entirely jibe with the film’s inherently retro sensibilities.
Mind you, that auteur’s signature extreme violence is almost completely missing here. Although there are deaths galore, this is a virtually bloodless action movie. A scene in which crocodiles (under Tarzan’s Dr. Dolittle-like command) devour someone features nary a drop of red in the churning water.
Coming off his string of four successful “Harry Potter” films, director David Yates shifts gears admirably – if not entirely without hiccups – eased in his transition by the inclusion of “Potter” regular Jim Broadbent in a small role as a corrupt politician. The action, which concerns Tarzan’s efforts to rescue his wife, Jane (Margot Robbie), from Rom, who is using her and Tarzan as pawns in a campaign to enslave the Congo and carry off its diamonds, is handled with the director’s customary finesse around special effects, if not always with human actors.
This time, Yates turns his wizardry to a fictional species of digitally rendered gorillas – called here, as in Burroughs, the Mangani – who raised the orphaned Tarzan from infancy. Sequences featuring Tarzan’s perpetually ticked-off primate brother Akut (Matt Cross, in a motion-capture suit) are particularly well done.
Unfortunately, the screenplay by Adam Cozad (“Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit”) and Craig Brewer (“Footloose”) does not live up to the visuals, featuring dialogue that sounds, at times, awkwardly anachronistic, and a narrative that relies too heavily on flashback to get to where it’s going. This is where Yates’ storytelling skills fail him.
The plot – which jumps from Tarzan’s African youth to his English aristocratic home life to Rom’s scorched-earth campaign to Williams’ gunslinging anti-slavery crusade – is far too busy for its own good. And the imposition of progressive 21st-century ideals on a story that also features such outdated Western stereotypes of “exotic” Africa as a white man walking a crocodile on a leash makes for an uncomfortable fit.
But it’s the silly season of summer, when even a turbocharged “Tarzan” – especially one with the built-in disclaimer of “Legend” in the title – may be just what is needed to cut through the thicket of interchangeable action heroes. Like Lord Greystoke – Tarzan’s “civilized” name – the movie pays lip service to the modern world, while its heart is back in the old one. Two stars. Rated PG-13 for largely bloodless violence and action, brief coarse language and sensuality. 110 minutes.
