Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle

The latest product of creative laziness and an obsession with established IPs in Hollywood, titled Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, packs all the commercial power a corporate cash-grab in 2017 could have: Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, Kevin Hart, Jack Black, a beloved 90s film property, and a classic mass-appeal rock song baked right into the title. With more and more of these reboots/remakes/sequels—how about “rebakequels,” eh?—popping up each year, the question for each one is always, “Will it be worth it?” Will it be anything more than a standard Hollywood plot skeleton wearing the skin of an old beloved property? Will people remember that it exists more than two weeks after it releases? And most importantly, will it uphold the good name and legacy of its predecessor or namesake? The Baywatch, Smurfs, Alien, and Pirates of the Caribbean films were among the myriad of rebakequels this year to answer these questions with a deflated, “No.”

Such are the questions that the new Jumanji film faces as well. And does Jumanji survive this gauntlet? Does it justify its own existence?

Eh. Kinda.

There's no denying it's a pale bastardization of the Robin Williams-led family-horror-thriller-comedy (which honestly isn't even as great as we'd all like to remember). But to Welcome to the Jungle’s credit, it doesn't really want to stand in the shadow of its predecessor anyway. In fact, aside from the word “Jumanji” being used throughout the film, this movie doesn't really even try to liken itself to the original or say, “Hey, this is Jumanji remember? Remember Jumanji?” And really, that works in its favor. Welcome to the Jungle stands on its own legs because it doesn't spend its entire runtime making winky callbacks to the original, and actually decides to build its own set of characters with their own problems.

Speaking of which, Jumanji is also unique among cash-grab rebakequels in that it is character-driven. Jumanji’s plot doesn't matter. This would normally be a significant issue, given that most of these films are plot-driven. In fact, that is the problem with many of these kinds of films; they don't spend any time on character study because the only thing matters is that the plot moves from point A to point B, but then the plot itself is relatively generic or uninteresting. Jumanji knew it wasn't going to win big points in plot; it's just unlikely. So the writing team must have decided that the way they'd win over their audience would be through the character dynamics. And for a shallow crowd-pleaser, it actually works pretty well.

The main characters are a group of disparate high schoolers who wind up in detention together, Breakfast Club-style. When they come upon an old and unidentifiable video game system called “Jumanji” in a janitorial closet, they decide to give it a whirl. Through the magic of the game, they're whisked away into the world of the game—a dense jungle full of Mad Max-ian biker warriors, dangerous animals, and classic temple booby-traps. When they arrive in the game, however, they're no longer awkward teenagers. The kid actors have been replaced by our box-office draws, who play the video game avatars that the kids selected when they started the game. Dwayne Johnson is a nerdy Jewish boy trapped in the muscle-bound body of a brave explorer. Jack Black is a popular, social-status-obsessed girl with a bad attitude who finds herself, to her dismay, in the ballooning body of a bearded, middle-aged cartographer. Kevin Hart is a star football player crammed into a body half his size, who is tasked with carrying the team's gear around in his bottomless backpack. Karen Gillan is a shy, awkward outsider put into a Lara Croft body, complete with ridiculous karate moves and a sexualized costume. Essentially, the film consists of the four big stars playing the opposite of their own personalities, constantly pointing out the ridiculousness of their own looks and traits (Dwayne Johnson is repeatedly shocked and impressed with his own muscles; Jack Black always disgusted and confused by his portly mid-life body).

And it's really these characters that sell the movie. They bicker and stumble over themselves, to our amusement, but by the end of the story, they've all legitimately learned something and changed their attitudes about each other. It's a surprising bit of emotional resolution for a movie whose only purpose is to sell tickets on name recognition and star power. But these characters are legitimately enjoyable, and that's worth admiring.

Now, let me be clear: Jumanji is not a “good” movie. It's definitely mediocre. Maybe the positive side of mediocre, but but mediocre nonetheless. The story is paper thin, the villain serves no purpose, the action is half-baked, the setpieces are all totally ripped from other films, and most of the jokes are the easiest and most obvious option in each situation. That said, the actors do their best to really sell it all. They chew the scenery and function as fully realized parodies of themselves. They don't hit every mark, but they're at least generally fun to watch.

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle is not one of the better movies this year. I doubt it will be remembered as any kid's childhood favorite when they grow up. It's not very original or creative, and it only succeeds at its main device—comedy—half the time. But what it does is stand out from the others in its class. It's a commercially driven, chemically engineered piece of Hollywood wide-appeal entertainment, yes, but it gives you reason to care—not about its plot—about the relationships between its characters. And while their archetypes are nothing we haven't seen before, it makes for a more enjoyable experience when the performers feel like something other than themselves going through the motions.