The Original’s Untouchable
Disney’s been on a spree lately—dig up an old cartoon, render it in 3D, cast some stars, release it. Aladdin, The Jungle Book, Dumbo. Just working through the vault. But The Lion King shouldn’t be on that assembly line. That one’s sacred.
The Lion King was my favorite Disney film. Still is. When I was young, I had everything—the soundtracks, the games, the books, the action figures, the VHS tapes. All of it. The film arrived at exactly the right moment. It stuck in a way very few things do. I can still quote huge sections of it. I’ve probably watched it a hundred times.
In school, this girl named Katrin and I would do scenes from it on the bus ride home. Simba and Scar mostly—that uncle-nephew dynamic. We had those lines down. It was a small thing, but it mattered.
They’re remaking it in 2019. 3D, Donald Glover, Beyoncé, the works. I’ll watch it, probably. I watch all the remakes, though I couldn’t tell you why. But here’s the thing: the 1994 film has my whole heart. Not because I’m stuck in nostalgia or whatever. Just because that film is finished. Complete. And nothing—not a new animation style, not any voice actor—is going to change what it already is.