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I’m just going to get this out there at the start: Jon Favreau’s The Lion King tells a nearly carbon copy version of the same story that was told in the 1994 animated version. Not for nothing, but that 1994 animated film was essentially just its own retelling of Hamlet. Stories are recycled. It’s been that way since the first stories were ever told. Their given new angels, new layers, maybe a new, different setting, or told in a different style, but stories are repeats. Be it tragedies, heroes journeys, redemption arcs, underdog tales, fables, moral lessons, or otherwise, we’ve been getting the same stories over and over in different packages for centuries.

So why, then, has the latest pseudo-criticism “why does this exist?” gaining traction among intelligent, educated film reviews as much as it is with #FilmTwitter and message board warriors? Film is art, and questioning the need for art seems dangerous. That being said, film is also COMMERCIAL art, and the need to question anything commercial is not only important, but also very very popular among the film community, so I get it. I get why people might be wary of a giant corporation repackaging something old and selling it as something new.

If the 2019 remake of The Lion King doesn’t bring anything new to the table from a story perspective, then what DOES it have to offer from an artistic perspective? Is there any joy to be had from Disney’s newest product? Disney who many people consider to be a soulless conglomerate only out for your money? WHY DOES THIS MOVIE (or any movie) EXIST?

To Make Lots of Money for Disney

Obviously. Disney is in the business of making money, and right now, they seem to be ruling the world. Is there a conversation to be had about their overall stake in providing entertainment? Sure, but I’m not focusing on that conversation here.

Yes, Disney wants to make a boatload of money by taking old stories that the current adult generation grew up on, and re-purposing them for a new generation of kids. It’s lazy in a way, as it’d arguably be better if they could create new tales to tell featuring the same story beats.

Don’t forget, though, that they also poured a boatload of money into this thing. They made an investment on director Jon Favreau to push computer effects to a whole new level, and for Disney, it looks like that investment is going to pay off.

To Push Film Making Technology Forward

Jon Favreau has made no qualms about wanting to take the actual technical knowledge he gained making The Jungle Book and push it to a new stage in film history. This is the artistic ying to the capitalistic yang that many people have been chastising, and it’s getting lost in the conversation.

The visual effects in the 2019 version of The Lion King are nothing short of stunning. The film is so stunning in it’s technical achievement that it’s easy to see how many people might completely look over it. There are huge sections of The Lion King where it just looks like a real landscape, a real sky, real grass, and it’s all artificial.

Every blade of grass, every tuft of hair, every pillow of dust, every drop of water, literally every inch on the screen is artificial, and it is an astounding technical achievement that will be felt throughout filmmaking for the future.

The artistic goal as stated by the filmmakers was to try and take this beloved story that many people already had deep emotional attachment to and see if they could do it in a way that is convincingly photoreal. In my opinion, they succeeded, even if that photorealism may detract from the emotional connection one has to the film.

Sure, the animals don’t emote with their faces the way that you would in a cartoon, that would fly directly in the face of the stated artistic goal of the film. Instead, the use of voices and body language go a long way into creating moments that you can connect with, and while it’s not successful 100% of the time, it still worked really well for me.

To Provide the Story to a New Generation

I’ll be honest, I don’t think the 2019 version of The Lion King is any better than the 1994 animated version. While the realism is astounding, the characters lack the physics and expressions of a cartoon, the musical sequences, while expertly repurposed, lack the freedom an animated movie gives in allowing things to step outside of reality.

In the new version, Simba doesn’t cannonball into a pond and wash Timon and Pumba ashore on a comically cartoony wave. Young Simba isn’t hoisted up on top of a pyramid of singing animals. To have these things in a film attempting photorealism would be ridiculous. Are they missed? Sure. But Favreau makes solid attempts to liven up the festivities, with an energetic run through a watering hole for I Just Can’t Wait to Be King, a creepier, more menacing spoken-song version of Be Prepared, and a montage through Can You Feel The Love Tonight.

It’s worth noting that a major CinemaSins-level BS critique is that Can You Feel the Love Tonight is set during afternoon/dusk rather than actual night. But the song refers to ‘tonight’ in the future tense, as in “I’ll be there tonight” rather than “We are here tonight”. The fact that so many people have not only missed this point but made it a major area of furor is ridiculous to me.

To Fix the Original Casting Issues

1994’s The Lion King had major African cats voiced by Matthew Broderick, Jeremy Irons, Moira Kelly, and Jonathan Taylor Thomas, among others. I don’t need to write an essay about why representation matters, but it does, even for voices in an animated film.

Bringing in the likes of Donald Glover, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Alfre Woodard, and freakin’ Beyoncé helps set things right in terms of accurate, inclusive casting. Not to mention that most of them are powerhouse talents that can do their own singing, and didn’t need to be replaced by stand-in singers.

Are the vocal performances in the new version of The Lion King perfect? Not really. Some feel disconnected from their surroundings, some lack the gravitas, while others soar. Ejiofor puts a more sinister spin on Scar as an angry opportunist rather than a preening conniver, and I might be one of the few people who like his new rendition of Be Prepared, even if it strips the operatic nature of the original away. Likewise, Billy Eichner and Seth Rogan are absolute aces as Timon and Pumba, stealing the show with practically every line reading.

So there, at least four decent reasons for a movie like 2019’s The Lion King to exist. Is it as good as the 1994 version of The Lion King? Your mileage may vary. It certainly lacks the animated flair that the original was able to pull off so well. Beyond that, however, I found it to be a monumental achievement in technical filmmaking.

To start asking why films exists seems to lay the dangerous seeds of asking why any artistic expression exists, commercial or otherwise. Not everything is for everybody, and it’s important that there is a difference between not liking something and questioning its existence. It’s also important that we do question the nature of conglomerates and the power they have over what is provided to the public.

Simply put, to ask why a film exists just because you didn’t like it is not only lazy, but it sets a potentially dangerous path for anyone to take that argument in bad faith.

Why does a film, any film, exist? Because it can, and because it should.