Disney’s unasked for Lion King prequel puts the oof in Mufasa.

Disney’s Mufasa: The Lion King arrives with the swagger of a prequel nobody asked for, offering a shallow origin story for the titular patriarch that manages to strip the grandeur from one of animation’s most iconic figures. Directed by Barry Jenkins—a filmmaker of unquestionable talent—the film feels like a baffling mismatch of director and material, churning out a story as uninspired as it is unnecessary.

The original The Lion King thrived on the simple, majestic transposition of Hamlet to the expansive skies of the African veldt. By contrast, Mufasa feels like a studio-mandated exhumation of a character who worked best as a symbol rather than a fully fleshed-out protagonist. The result is a film that seeks to answer questions no one was asking and, in doing so, undermines the central narrative of The Lion King itself.

The story, framed by Rafiki’s narration as he nepobabysits Blue Ivy Carter’s lion cub Kiara while Simba and Nala are off having another baby, tells the story of the young cub Mufasa and how he comes to be orphaned and then adopted into a different pride, alongside the son of the king. Given our two primary protagonists are present for the events of The Lion King, every twist and turn feels preordained, robbing the narrative of any tension or emotional stakes and feeling like a creative exercise in treading water.

Visually, the film is burdened by the same hyper-realistic CGI that plagued Jon Favreau’s 2019 The Lion King remake. While technically impressive, the photorealistic approach drained the characters of their expressiveness, leaving the emotional beats lifeless and inert. The lush African landscapes remain stunning, but they’re window dressing for a film that never capitalises on its visual splendour. At least this around they’ve capitulated and given the animals eyebrows, so they can emote – even if it’s just to show their disdain for the way the material and music is inferior in every aspect to either predecessor.

The voice cast feels commensurately downgraded alongside the songs and story. Kelvin Harrison Jr. as young Mufasa delivers a performance that’s earnest but ultimately forgettable, while Aaron Pierre’s Taka (the lion who will become Scar) is saddled with dialogue that attempts to foreshadow his villainy with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Preston Nyman’s Zazu, though, is a bad impression of a parody, bearing zero relation to Rowan Atkinson’s original or John Oliver’s lacklustre reprise. Perhaps, though, the most bizarre vocal performance comes from the movie’s villain Kiros, played by Mads Mikkelsen playing Antonio Banderas. Not even Mikkelsen can infuse a song called “Bye Bye” with any degree of menace, though.

Barry Jenkins’s involvement is perhaps the film’s greatest puzzle. Known for deeply human, emotionally resonant films like Moonlight and If Beale Street Could Talk, Jenkins’s touch is barely detectable here. While his craftsmanship ensures the film isn’t outright incompetent, it lacks the soulful depth and complexity that define his best work. The result feels like a director-for-hire project that’s content to colour within the lines. Likewise, Lin Manuel Miranda’s hot streak seems to have come to a screeching halt as he delivers some of the Pride Lands’ most uninspired and creatively inert lyrics which, given he’s up against the likes of Tim Rice, is pretty damning.

Mufasa: The Lion King is a pale imitation of the majesty it seeks to honour. Not only does it completely turn the original on its head by establishing that, for good or ill, Scar was the heir apparent, usurped by his adopted brother and was right to feel cheated of the throne. It’s so self-conscious of its shortcomings that it incessently punctuates its lacklustre story with constant cutaways to Billy Eichner and Seth Rogen’s increasingly grating Timon and Puumba. Disney’s got a strong track record in never being able to deliver a good sequel and Mufasa: The Lion King suggests that for all Bob Iger’s course corrections, some things haven’t changed.