A ROAR TO THE PAST

I was probably 3 or 4. Sitting on the roof of my red and yellow Fischer Price car, otherwise known to me as Pride Rock, I watched Rafiki. As he walked up the modestly slopped rock formation carrying the heir to the throne, Hanz Zimmer’s tranquil arrangements from the unmistakable Circle of Life began to augment. I waited intently. The iconic baboon stopped when he reached the rock’s outermost point as I had observed him do so many times before. I readied myself. As Rafiki raised Simba to the sky, I, in unison with him, lifted my teddy bear, E.D., to the ceiling. The zebras, giraffes, hippopotami, and elephants bowed and cheered. I probably performed this loyally the first hundred times I saw THE LION KING every day after school. The border between the universe inside the television and my childhood basement didn’t exist. There, or running outside barefoot, the world was my Serengeti.

The past meets the present: My teddy bear, E.D., and a May 2019 issue of Entertainment Weekly.

Tonight, I will be taking my parents and myself to the premier of Jon Favreau’s reimagining of THE LION KING (1994). Luckily, the only thing I’m ‘nervous’ about is that it will make me want to jump back on a plane to Botswana more than I already do right now. That’s reassuring though because it wasn’t always like this. Right from the initial buzz of a remake to the tangible and stunning first teasers, ‘nerves’ were always a part of the equation for me surrounding the forthcoming release. “Why can’t I be like all the other fans and just be excited”, I wondered. I guess I think too much sometimes. It’s like part of me thought that the film from ’94 would be replaced when the new one would be released... or something illogical of the sort. After thinking about my overthinking, I am now sure that nothing can replace what something was, or still is.

Nonetheless, I am inspired by 2019’s offering to reflect on the one of the past.

Before welcoming Favreau's version of The Lion King to the big screen, and embracing whatever differences or similarities it brings, I would like to honor the one that started it all. The one that was there before I cared who was starring as who, before any film class I ever took, before I called myself a “movie buff”, before I knew about exclusive premiers, before I had to decide between an IMAX or regular showing, before I knew the terms “HIT” or “BLOCKBUSTER”, before I participated in debates with fellow film fans… There was one VHS tape with as much value to me as a favorite stuffed animal.

Here's to that movie I watched repeatedly with E.D.

This is not a review. This is not a comparison.

This is probably free-writing at it’s worst and nostalgia at it’s best.

This is a nod to the past.

This is a bow to the King.

. . .

That VHS tape was my most pure and innocent relationship with film. I watched what I loved, and I loved what I watched. Over and over again. I wasn’t influenced by a trailer, a rating, or a comment. I didn’t seek new, but only wanted to relive what was perfect in my eyes. It widened my view, and it paved some paths that I still walk on.

In many ways The Lion King laid the foundations of:

• My interest in the Earth and the creatures that inhabit it. Before watching Animal Planet, before holding my first National Geographic issue, before visiting Africa in person, I had the animated characters of this movie. They put the dreams in motion to go to all ends of the globe to visit them, and those species like and unlike them.

• My desire to travel. Before I scanned through a Nikon and cellphone overfilled with photography of epic landscape, I had the inspiring hand-drawn views of the African savanna only one Play-button away. Yes, it was animated. Yes, it was the same scenery again and again. But it was enough for me. And it began a longing to ‘go there’.

• My understanding that all creatures have some purpose in the ecosystem. I went from looking at insects in my backyard as intangible and insignificant tiny beings, to understanding they are food for someone else, and that in some ways, they deserve respect: “Everything you see exists together in a delicate balance. As king, you need to understand that balance and respect all the creatures, from the crawling ant to the leaping antelope.” Only later in life, in an Evolution class in Dawson College, did a similar theme arise again. If you’re reading this as an adult, the message may not feel that significant. But try and understand the magnitude of this lesson for one in their youth, and the impact on their future choices.

• My love for music. While the soundtrack is not my earliest memory of music (i.e., The Beatles in my parents’ car), it is my earliest memory of music I loved. The cassette tape was played on repeat. Not only the lyricized songs we sing along to, but the orchestral score and its ability to bring water streaming out of my eyes goes unrivaled. (The finale track King Of Pride Rock slays me every.single.time.) I learned to never underestimate the power of song in film. In many instances, it’s a big part of the reason a viewer cries/feels/believes/relates. A character’s death alone may have begun your tears, but Hanz Zimmer’s talent is the reason they continue to fall down your face. (Or maybe that's just me... A thesis for another day.)

• My understanding of self and an ability to introspect. What feels like a given is that some of The Lion King’s lessons transcended young Simba’s learning and extended to me in my childhood. However, even during adolescence, when times got a little more complicated, I still found relevance in the film. When big choices became a part of life, so did responding with reflection, avoidance, or decision. When I moved out to UBC, I was growing. I made mistakes, and unbeknownst to me at the time, I ran away from them too. Sometimes, at my lowest or most unsure, I would think of Mufasa’s advice; “remember who you are” in response to when I echoed Simba's insecurity: "I can't go back... I'm not who I used to be". I didn't know exactly what to do with that advice at the time, but it still acted as some form of anchor to me.

I understand DNA, personality traits, and my environment probably have more to do with making me, well, 'me' than any film of my youth does. I recognize that had The Lion King not existed, I would have still found it in me to chase the wild, I would have still caught on that music is one of my most favorite things on this planet, and I probably would have even eventually understood that insects deserve appreciation. Still though, the movie was my exposure to all of these things in one neat package with a spectacular delivery. I’m thankful to have grown up with it.

A TOUGH ONE MADE EASY (Sort Of)

One of the most difficult questions a big film fan can be asked is:

"What's your favorite movie of all time?”

Our heads are greeted with the answer we think we know, and then before we can reply, our thoughts fill with the endless options of caliber works that we’ve seen over the years that were not our initial answer. If you’re anything like me, you’ll then settle with your own version of the following:

"Which side of me do you want me to answer that with? My twisted dark side wants to say SE7EN (1995), the thoughtful side wants to answer Gladiator (2000), the adventurer outdoorsman wants to reply Balto (1995), and the romantic wants to say, The Notebook (2004)."

But if I’d answer just one, I’d have qualms with any of my replies. Not because they're not each excellent to me, but because choosing one of these movies feels like choosing one mood.

Now, if you didn’t let me get away with that, I wouldn't blame you. So, if you forced me to answer with one film as my reply, zero exceptions, what would I do? I’d want to answer with something that feels right all the time. Something that doesn’t go through my phases, and something that always felt like a part of me... or feels like a part of me, regardless of mood. And maybe something that helped me ‘remember who I was’ when I was in doubt...

So what would I answer to one of the most difficult questions a big film fan can be asked?

T H E L I O N K I N G

No elephant graveyard bones about it.