Why I’m Not Going to See the New Lion King
This is not an anti-CGI rant, I promise: my reasons are personal
In case you were unaware, Disney recently released a CGI remake of their classic 1994 animation, Hamlet in Africa.
The internet consensus seems to be that making lions look photo-realistic doesn’t work when you’re telling a fairy tale where the animal characters have to emote like humans (who are, let’s face it, the intended audience).
This article has absolutely no opinion to share on this, as I have not — and will not — go and see the movie. So rest easy, those of you who watched and loved the 2019 version of Disney’s The Lion King, I’m not here to kill your buzz.
I want to talk about the impact the original had on my young mind.
Back in the day
Cast your mind back to the fall of 1994. Ah yes, those halcyon days when men were men, and women said nothing publicly about it. A time when Friends, The Simpsons and Seinfeld had not yet become self-parodies.
So, my grandpa died. My mom got the phone call on the Saturday, and cried for six days.
The following Friday, exhausted from weeping and feeling miserable for herself, she suggested we go see the new Disney movie.
