Critics reviews

It is not the visual shot-for-shot resemblance between the source and the remake that perpetuates these messages of the past (in the polarized America of the present, to still advocate for the murder of anyone of a particular group or demographic or disagreement is quite untimely), but rather the ideological sameness that only indicates the studio’s slow adaptation to the world.

Whereas other films generate a frisson from the contact between human actors and imaginary environments, The Lion King has no live-action element. It pursues photorealism for its own sake.

When Simba comes into his own and must defend his tribe against his scheming uncle Scar and the menacing, invasive Hyenas, there’s no emotional power. The Lion King’s parallels to the historical lessons of Greek mythology or fairy-tale morality just feel like vague memories.

This might be [Favreau’s] best-directed film, if you judge purely in terms of how the scenes and sequences have been framed, lit, and cut together.

This prosaic wizardry might still be impressive if there were conviction or originality behind the scene-making.

Watching all this made me feel a bit like Little Red Riding Hood visiting the Big Bad Wolf, wearing the guise of her grandmother. Simba, what large, inexpressive, marble-shined eyes you have! What an uncannily post-Botox emotional range you have!

It all speaks to the uneven impact of this glossy, no-expense-spared version of The Lion King: It’s a stirring reminder of what can be achieved with all the talent (and money) in the world, as well as a cautionary tale of what can happen when there’s no vision to bind it all together.

If a movie could be judged solely on technique, “The Lion King” might qualify as a great one. And it kind of wants to be judged that way — for its technical skin rather than its dramatic soul.