Hugh Hudson’s solemn Tarzan drama finds real feeling in Christopher Lambert’s physical performance and the jungle passages. The English section is harder work, with repeated jabs at British manners slowing an already deliberate adventure.
Hugh Hudson’s Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes is a decent, uneven adventure whose jungle passages justify more patience than its English ones. It wants us to take its central character seriously, and for a substantial stretch we do. Christopher Lambert gives it enough physical conviction to keep the solemnity from becoming an embarrassment. The difficulty comes when British manners take over and the film continues at the same deliberate pace, with less to hold our attention.
Christopher Lambert is the most interesting reason to disagree with the harsher reviews. His performance can seem stiff, but there is feeling in the physical effort, and that matters in a part which could easily become a demonstration of athletic ability. We were moved by the vulnerability he brings to the jungle passages. The sentimentality works there because he commits so completely to the physical performance that we accept the character’s feelings before questioning how insistently the film asks for ours.
John Alcott’s cinematography gives the jungle sufficient presence to sustain this unhurried approach. We have time to attend to the surroundings, which helps us believe in a life being lived there. Anne V. Coates’s editing is effective in these passages because Christopher Lambert’s performance remains the point of interest. The later slackness does not make the earlier patience a mistake, although it does expose how much that patience depends on the setting.
The move to England is where the film begins to labour. The satire of British manners has an obvious purpose, but the scenes keep pressing a point that becomes clear well before the film is finished with it. Robert Towne and Michael Austin’s screenplay does not find enough fresh difficulties within that material. At 143 minutes, the film gives us too much time to recognise the repetition, and too little reason to welcome it.
Stuart Craig’s production design helps the English section retain a sense of place, even when the dramatic pace weakens. These surroundings feel formal and constraining, though that impression soon becomes familiar. John Scott’s music is similarly committed to the film’s seriousness. Its emotional weight suits the jungle material more comfortably than the social satire, where we could use less encouragement to feel the importance of everything.
Hugh Hudson is entitled to make an adventure that spends time on discomfort and belonging. We do not need constant action, and the attempt to take the character seriously deserves credit. What we do need is a change of pace when the surroundings change. By then, the film has said much of what it has to say about how these people behave, and further attention to their manners brings diminishing returns.
This is worth considering if a solemn Tarzan drama appeals more than the promise of a brisk adventure. Christopher Lambert gives the jungle passages a tenderness that the heavier stretches do not erase. Go in prepared for the English section to test the goodwill earned elsewhere. There is no need to mistake its slow pace for a failure of concentration on your part.