The 1980s are now often thought of as an era of cheesiness, naïve optimism and style over substance. But this distinctly 80s take on Edgar Rice Burrough's oft-adapted Tarzan stories is an attempt at imbuing the character with some dignity, dropping all reference to the rather silly Tarzan moniker itself in all but the title, and focusing on the ape-man's intelligence and humanity. The screenplay is by none other than the acclaimed writer of Chinatown, Robert Towne.
Towne however is credited under his dog's name, something he insisted upon when he was fired as director. Instead that job went to Hugh Hudson, on his first project since 1981's Best Picture Chariots of Fire. Hudson was not an outstanding director, although his slow, brooding style is to the picture's benefit. In the jungle scenes he allows long takes for Lambert and the apes to bring out their characters, with a lot of close-ups of hands and faces, revealing the thought processes going on in this lengthy segment without dialogue. Hudson also handles space well. Upon Lambert's arrival at the Greystoke mansion, props and walls at the side of the image make the place look cramped in spite of its opulence.
Christopher Lambert was one of those 80s stars whose impressive physicality seemed to outstrip his acting talent. However, the role of a man brought up in the wild seems to bring out the best in him. He really gets that mix of animalistic manner and deep humanity. The only real downside is his creepy eyes, which make it hard to take him seriously. The best performances here are in the supporting roles. Ian Holm begins as a comical little figure, but eventually shows a real emotional intensity. You can't help but love an Ian Holm character. Then there is Ralph Richardson as Lord Greystoke. Richardson was at the very end of his life, and surely knew it. He draws upon that knowledge to create a performance of real bittersweet power, a portrait of a man doing things for the last time.
Unfortunately, the picture is let down by a silly naivety that is very much of the time. The ape make-up is not bad, and a good attempt has been made to bring human expressions to realistic-looking chimp faces, but sometimes the effect is overdone, such as the cartoonish "bad" ape with whom Lambert has a rivalry. In spite of the emotive tack, the narrative is sometimes lacking in reverence. For example, when Jack Clayton realises his wife has dead, it's only seconds later before an ape shambles in and begins battering the poor man. Sometimes it's necessary to compress time in screenplays, but here the move is too quick, ruining the moment – it would have been better if we'd cut to Jack burying his wife, and then for the ape to attack. And as for Andie MacDowell's scarlet dress – did no-one on the production realise what a faux pas such a colour would have been at that time? It's a pity, because Greystoke is incredibly moving and thoughtful at times. It is essentially a rather wasted opportunity. Somewhere in there is an intelligent masterpiece. It's just buried under some rather obvious flaws that could easily have been fixed. And yet, the fact that the movie has any degree of depth or dignity is in itself quite an achievement, considering the simplicity of the average Tarzan flick.
Towne however is credited under his dog's name, something he insisted upon when he was fired as director. Instead that job went to Hugh Hudson, on his first project since 1981's Best Picture Chariots of Fire. Hudson was not an outstanding director, although his slow, brooding style is to the picture's benefit. In the jungle scenes he allows long takes for Lambert and the apes to bring out their characters, with a lot of close-ups of hands and faces, revealing the thought processes going on in this lengthy segment without dialogue. Hudson also handles space well. Upon Lambert's arrival at the Greystoke mansion, props and walls at the side of the image make the place look cramped in spite of its opulence.
Christopher Lambert was one of those 80s stars whose impressive physicality seemed to outstrip his acting talent. However, the role of a man brought up in the wild seems to bring out the best in him. He really gets that mix of animalistic manner and deep humanity. The only real downside is his creepy eyes, which make it hard to take him seriously. The best performances here are in the supporting roles. Ian Holm begins as a comical little figure, but eventually shows a real emotional intensity. You can't help but love an Ian Holm character. Then there is Ralph Richardson as Lord Greystoke. Richardson was at the very end of his life, and surely knew it. He draws upon that knowledge to create a performance of real bittersweet power, a portrait of a man doing things for the last time.
Unfortunately, the picture is let down by a silly naivety that is very much of the time. The ape make-up is not bad, and a good attempt has been made to bring human expressions to realistic-looking chimp faces, but sometimes the effect is overdone, such as the cartoonish "bad" ape with whom Lambert has a rivalry. In spite of the emotive tack, the narrative is sometimes lacking in reverence. For example, when Jack Clayton realises his wife has dead, it's only seconds later before an ape shambles in and begins battering the poor man. Sometimes it's necessary to compress time in screenplays, but here the move is too quick, ruining the moment – it would have been better if we'd cut to Jack burying his wife, and then for the ape to attack. And as for Andie MacDowell's scarlet dress – did no-one on the production realise what a faux pas such a colour would have been at that time? It's a pity, because Greystoke is incredibly moving and thoughtful at times. It is essentially a rather wasted opportunity. Somewhere in there is an intelligent masterpiece. It's just buried under some rather obvious flaws that could easily have been fixed. And yet, the fact that the movie has any degree of depth or dignity is in itself quite an achievement, considering the simplicity of the average Tarzan flick.