JOSEF Stalin reportedly once said that Edgar Rice Burroughs was his favourite author.

Burroughs’s eponymous hero of the African jungle has been around on paper since 1912 and in cinemas since 1918. He wrote 26 authentic Tarzan stories. This one, the first animation to reach the big screen, unfolds among concepts and ideas that didn’t exist at the time of his death in 1950.

Who can tell whether Burroughs might have approved of German writer/director/production company executive Reinhard Klooss’ modernisation of young Greystoke, the six-year-old sole survivor of a helicopter crash in the heart of Africa who a decade and a half later has become a large bundle of muscles after a female gorilla adopted him and raised him along with other orphans in her tribe? Burroughs never set foot on that continent. His Tarzan stories are purest fantasies mimicking Kipling’s Mowgli in the Jungle Books. Over the decades, Hollywood, that fount of unconstrained fantasy, has sent Tarzan to deal with conflicts even more fantastic than Burroughs imagined in places far beyond Africa.

Klooss’ film reprises the Tarzan iconographies created by Romanian-born five-gold-medal Olympic swimmer Johnny Weissmuller who played him 12 times. “Me Tarzan, you Jane.” The unspellable call summoning the wildlife to the rescue in difficult situations. The aerial traverses of the set hanging on a vine. The swimming sequences. Animation creates these without risk to actors or limitation on physicality.

This cynic, whose early cinema enthusiasms made him eagerly await every next Tarzan movie, can’t help but wonder what Dian Fossey’s opinion might have been about how the movies treated the gorillas among whom little Greystoke grew to manhood.

At Dendy