Bringing Mowgli out of the jungle for children

Bringing Mowgli out of the jungle for children

By Laksmi Pamuntjak-Djohan

JAKARTA (JP): Rudyard Kipling has been praised, criticized and
branded as a great many things. Intellectuals such as Edward Said
have accused his depiction of the "white man" as the very notion
Orientalism thrives on. Yet to many of us, he is simply the man
who gave us Mowgli, one of the best-loved cartoon characters of
all time.

Of course, Rudyard Kipling's The Second Jungle Book: Mowgli
and Baloo has very little to do with Kipling himself. Its two
predecessors, a 1967 animated film and a 1994 live-action film
titled Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book, owe more of their
successes to the giant entertainment machinery that is Disney.
Thanks to Disney, Mowgli has been immortalized in such a way that
makes it more appealing to children all over the world.

Given the success of the 1994 version, which featured a
somewhat romanticized Mowgli as opposed to the cocky brat of the
animated film, a sequel only seems a natural progression.

But The Second Jungle Book is not a sequel. It is not even by
Disney, which perhaps explains it. Rather, it is a prequel by
Columbia Tristar, presenting us the wonderful adventures of 10-
year-old Mowgli before he turns into a hunk in a loincloth.

Eleven-year-old Jamie Williams rises to the occasion and fits
into Disney's cartoon depiction of Mowgli. He has the right
looks, the right size, and the perfect hair and skin color. As
expected, he swings through treetops and horses around with Baloo
the Bear, Bagheera the Panther, and the handsome Gray Wolves in
the Indian jungle. Before long, scheming and overacting humans
show up. Mowgli learns that civilization is not as great as it's
made out to be.

Harrison (Bill Campbell) is pure commercialism. He is an
American curator for P.T. Barnum who sees enormous potential in
Mowgli as "the greatest circus attraction of the century".

Buldeo's motive is more sinister. Posing as a concerned uncle,
he wants Mowgli dead so that the family fortune will fall into
his hands. With a track record of over 250 villainous parts in
only 10 years, Gulshan Grover is definitely the man for the role.

Karait (Dyrk Ashton) is a poorly written and preposterous
character, and is only credited with rolling his dead eyes and
hissing along with his slithering python Kaa.

Because this is supposed to be a children's film, caricatures
are also thrown in for comic relief. Roddy McDowall is perched
high on the dementia ladder as a disillusioned, aging British
soldier who has "worked his way up the ranks" to become a self-
styled King of the Monkeys. Some may say that he is making a
travesty of his talent, but the main thing is that he elicits a
lot of laughs from the audience.

Chuchundra (David Paul Francis), a colonized Indian stereotype
who ends up on Mowgli's trail, also steals the show. He's silly,
for sure, but kids love bumbling fat guys who hang from trees,
fall on a burning fire, and say the dumbest things.

The animal shots and close-ups are wonderfully done, and some
scenes (Mowgli's encounters with King Cobras and Shere Khan the
tiger) are certain to frighten younger kids. The chimpanzees
which inhabit the mythical Lost City are stars in their own
right. Director Duncan MacLachlan's use of bright focus and
natural colors may be low-tech to some, but it lends the movie a
charming touch of realism.

But what may be worth highlighting is that the movie manages
to expose, without appearing to explain, all the messages you'd
come to expect. It is a subtlety that isn't commonly found in
heavily narrated children films.

First, the perils of imperialism. Harmless as the King of the
Monkeys seems, his commando approach towards his "subjects"
serves as a strong analogy to British colonization of India.

Second, the law of the jungle. Mowgli's banishment by the
wolves due to his friendship with Timo, an outcast, suggests that
animals have more respect for their law.

Third, loyalty between friends. Unable to ignore his natural
instincts, Mowgli is grateful to Timo for saving his life.

However, as cross-over sagas go, The Second Jungle Book is
neither as lively or picturesque as its predecessor, nor as
robustly entertaining as Indiana Jones (which is not classified
as a children's film, but is hugely popular with children).

In the absence of any dramatic punch, the highlights remain
with Mowgli's enactment of our own secret imagination. He showers
with elephants. He frolics with huge animals. He can speak their
language (roar, growl, etc.). He makes fun of adults, which is
perhaps the best aspect of them all. He doesn't even seem to have
to grow up, much to our chagrin.

Mowgli is more than just a jungle boy, let alone a precursor
for Tarzan. He represents youth as opposed to adulthood, nature
as opposed to civilization, the colonized as opposed to the
colonizer. The very idea of Mowgli is beautiful and needs very
little boost to sell to a value-starved audience. Or children too
young to take part in the latest bumper crop of monster-disaster-
alien movies.

But here comes the tragedy: what makes every aspect of the
film mediocre, if not slightly disappointing, is the era it's in.
These days, parents may be hard-pressed to find children-friendly
live-action films minus the blood, violence, sex, drugs, alcohol
and foul language. In that respect, The Second Jungle Book fits
the bill perfectly.

Yet what of the kids? Chances are that children over the age
of seven will find this movie tame, if not downright boring.
After all, the PG-rating has allowed them to join in the thrill
ride of grown-up fare, complete with its visual effects galore,
slam-bang violence, shoot-outs, alien-busting operatives, man-
eating monsters, rip-roaring volcanoes, walkabout T-Rexes,
Gothic decay. There is basically nothing in the annals of the
imagination that they haven't seen (or tried to see).

The intentions are good, the timing isn't.