Tarzan Returns

Him Tarzan: Johnny Weissmuller and Maureen O'Sullivan.

 

By Tom Soter

from DIVERSION, 1997

A vivid flash of lighting broke from the billowing black clouds above. Thunder crashed and boomed...Leaping to his feet, Tarzan placed a foot upon the carcass of his kill and, raising his face to the heavens, gave voice to the victory cry of the bull-ape.

Faintly to the ears of marching men came the hideous scream... “What the devil was that?” demanded Zveri.

“It sounded like a panther,” said Colt.

“That was no panther,” said Kitembo. “It was the cry of a bull-ape who has made a kill, or -

“Or what?” demanded Zveri.

Kitembo looked fearfully in the direction from which the sound had come. “Let us get away from here,” he said.

It is a classic moment from a classic adventure novel,Tarzan and the City of Gold (1933): hokey, heroic, and wonderfully exciting as Tarzan of the Apes instills fear in the wicked and hope in the downtrodden – and gives his readers a grand old time.

Edgar Rice Burroughs, the ex-pencil-sharpener salesman who created Tarzan, knew that his wild child was hokum – "[An ape-man] would probably have B.O., halitosis, and athlete's foot, plus a most abominable disposition," he once remarked – but Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle, struck a public chord anyway. Burroughs (who died in 1950) got only $700 for the first Tarzan tale in 1912 but then reaped millions from 24 sequels, countless comic strips, radio shows, plays, and the world's longest-running movie series.

Now his heirs are set to reap a further bonanza as the vine-swinging ape man continues to come on strong in what could only be described as a mini-boomlet: a nationally syndicated TV series; a new animated musical movie from Disney, with songs by Phil Collins, set for a 1998 release; a Tarzan live action feature in development by Fox Family Films; 15 volumes of color Tarzan comic strips from the 1940s (Flying Buttress Books); and Tarzan: The Lost Adventure (Dark Horse Books), the first new Tarzan novel in 30 years (it is based on an unfinished manuscript by Burroughs).

Yet it almost wasn’t so. Tarzan of the Apes, Burroughs’ third novel, was rejected by 11 publishers, and the author almost chalked up the tale as another in a long string of failures. Burroughs, widely known as ERB, was 36 when he started writing and had failed at every job he attempted. As critic Rodney Needham observed in a 1977 London Times story, “during the first 35 years of his life, [ERB’s] mundane circumstances were a train of uncertainties, failures, and impoverished desperations...”

He was a cowhand, gold prospector, railway policeman, time-keeper at a construction site, door-to-door salesman, and the operator of a pencil sharpener sales company. Finally, in desperation, he turned his daydreams into fantastic novels of African lords and Martian princesses. “I was not writing because of any urge to write nor for any particular love of writing,” he once admitted. “I was writing because I had a wife and two babies.”

Tarzan of the Apes tells of how a young baby, orphaned at birth in the jungle, is raised by an advanced form of great apes. Tarzan (early names: Zantan, Tublat Zan) was inspired by the myth of Romulus and Remus and Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Books. But he was also born out of a vivid Victorian era fantasy: that a white man, abandoned in a jungle could become a super-powerful “Natural Man,” the lord of his domain.

Burroughs, wrote Richard Lupoff in Edgar Rice Burroughs: Master of Adventure, had "boundless faith in the ability of man to live up to a heritage, to rise above environment, and improve himself so as to achieve the great destiny of humanity rather than the miserable fate of his surroundings." Yet Tarzan was not just any man: he was of noble blood, son of Lord Greystoke. 

 

The ape man may have had sociological underpinnings, but above all else, his adventures (and those of ERB’s 91 other stories of Mars, Venus, and a world at the earth’s core) are alluring for their fast-paced action, fantastic settings, and breathless romance. After Tarzan rescues Jane for the first time, for example, ERB’s style becomes pure (and delightful) pulp fiction: “[Civilization dropped away from Jane and] it was a primeval woman who sprang forward with outstretched arms toward the primeval man who had fought for her and won her. And Tarzan? He did what no red-blooded man needs lessons in doing. He took his woman in his arms and smothered her upturned, panting lips with kisses.”

By 1917, movie-makers were knocking on Burroughs’ door. Beefy ex-stuntman Elmo Lincoln shot to fame in Tarzan of the Apes (1918), tackling lions, snakes, and monkeys with the gusto of a circus performer. Balding, he wore a ridiculous mop, and his portly Jane (Enid Markey) led ERB to eliminate the character ("After seeing [Markey], I was very glad to kill [Jane]").

Since then, 19 actors have donned the loincloth. The most famous is Johnny Weissmuller, an Olympic swimming star who won 52 national championships and broke 67 world records. Many call the near-mute Weissmuller the definitive Tarzan, and, in his premier outing Tarzan the Ape Man (1932), he is certainly powerful, handsome, and savagely sexy.

“As opposed to some other screen Tarzans, he did not appear muscle-bound and was able to move about in a loose, cat-like manner,” critic Randy Belhmer noted in Films in Review. “There were other subtle touches of an animal nature – the wariness, the quick turning of the head, and the catching of a scent...” He also warbles the famous Tarzan victory cry: a distinctive yodel combining Weissmuller’s own voice with a hyena’s yowl played backwards, a camel’s bleat, the pluck of a violin string, and a soprano’s high-C.

Weissmuller played Tarzan for 16 years, helping the ape man’s fame while hurting the character’s reputation. He portrayed the jungle lord as an inarticulate muscle man (his dialogue consisted of short words or phrases and the all-purpose “jungle” word “umgawa” which meant “get up,” “go away,” “go for help,” “let’s go”). By contrast, ERB’s Tarzan spoke several languages fluently and was as at home in a tuxedo as he was battling lions. In fact, it was this dichotomy that made Burroughs’ jungle man so intriguing – and which was often missing in screen adaptations.

Hollywood’s version transformed ERB's sophisticated jungle lord into a primitive boy toy, a hunk with no brains ("Me Tarzan") but a lot of brawn, who quite literally sweeps city gal Jane Parker off her feet. After all, who could resist a guy that wrestles lions before breakfast, outswims alligators after lunch, and then rides elephants into the sunset?

Most of the tinseltown jungle adventures from the 1930s through the 1950s are formula films reusing plot elements and stock footage with joyful abandon. Almost all involve white explorers intruding on Tarzan's jungle heaven, usually in search of hidden treasure. Against the ape man's wishes, Jane – or some other person– tries to help them, and by the end, everyone is usually captured by savages who begin elaborate tortures until Tarzan arrives with a flock of elephants to save the day.

The best of this lot is Tarzan's New York Adventure (1942), which cleverly inverts the formula by having the ape man play intruder in New York ("stone jungle"). Before the story ends, Tarzan has made monkeys out of cops and robbers alike, leaping across the city's rooftops and off the Brooklyn Bridge with a breathtaking, Olympian ease. There are also wry moments of social commentary (Tarzan, on visiting a night club: "Smell like Swahili swamp. Why men stay here?" Jane: "It's called having a good time").

The format was eventually modified. In Tarzan and the Valley of Gold (1966), the ape man had become a James Bond-style hero and by 1984, he was getting the prestige treatment with the $46 million Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle. Greystoke presents an existential Tarzan searching for his identity. The first half is the most effective rendition of the jungle man's origin ever seen. That sequence – with nary a word spoken – is endlessly fascinating, and Christopher Lambert makes a superb Tarzan. Where the whole conceit falls apart, however, is when director Hugh Hudson plays social commentator, abandoning Burroughs so that his hero can be defeated by the civilization he tries to master. Hudson, preferring a wimpish wild child to ERB's unconquerable fantasy figure, turns up his nose at society – and, finally, at Tarzan himself.

Before Bond: Sean Connery in Tarzan's Greatest Adventure.

“Tarzan: The Epic Adventures,” the new TV series, rectifies all that, returning to Tarzan’s literary – and fantasy-heroic roots, presenting Tarzan as a savage but intelligent hero, a man part of but not overcome by two worlds. The $25 million show, shot in South Africa, captures the flavor of Burroughs’ original tales, with ex-California surfer Joe Lara as an articulate, no-nonsense Tarzan discovering lost civilizations and facing fantastic foes. But above all else, it preserves the essence of what makes the ape man a timeless figure: the allure of the wild and the attraction of justice triumphing over evil.

“Although adventure and morality can still be had in America today, they rarely come in tandem anymore,” George McWhorter, curator of the Edgar Rice Burroughs Memorial Collection at the University of Louisville, explained in Cinefantastique magazine. “But Tarzan is always there waiting to be discovered by a new generation or rediscovered by the old. He is a composite of the best qualities inherent in the human race, which is the secret of his longevity...Beyond that, Tarzan is a highly moral hero, a character who has a clear sense of right and wrong. As for Tarzan’s relevance to the 1990s, or any other time slot, he remains the epitome of virtue, strength, and intellect, a perfect pop-media hero.”

 

 

TARZAN OF THE MOVIES

 By Tom Soter
from ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY

Edgar Rice Burroughs, the ex-pencil-sharpener salesman who created Tarzan of the Apes, knew his wild child was hokum -- "[An ape-man] would probably have B.O., Halitosis, and Athlete's Foot, plus a most abominable disposition" -- but Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle, struck a public chord, anyway. Burroughs (who died in 1950) got only $700 for the first Tarzan tale, begun in December 1911 and published in 1912, but he then reaped millions from 24 sequels, countless comic strips, radio shows, plays, and the world's longestrunning movie series. On June 16, 1916, the author signed his first film deal, and by 1932, when Johnny Weissmuller began a 16-year reign, the apeman was one of cinema's top-grossing film stars. ERB's back-to-nature fantasy shows no sign of abating, either: although 18 actors have already swung the vines, a 19th is at work on a new American TV series for the fall.

TARZAN OF THE APES (1918)/THE ADVENTURES OF TARZAN (1921) Beefy ex-stuntman Elmo Lincoln, who shot to fame in the first and disappeared after the second, offers the apeman as noble wrestler, tackling lions, snakes, and monkeys with the gusto of a circus hawker. Balding, he wears a ridiculous mop, and his Jane (Enid Markey) led ERB to knock off the character ("After seeing [Markey], I was very glad to kill [Jane]"). Nonetheless, both movies depict Tarzan as ERB wrote him: a half-savage enigma in a perfect jungle paradise.

Tarzan the best: Gordon Scott in Tarzan's Greatest Adventure.

TARZAN THE APE MAN (1932) -- Some call the near-mute Weissmuller the definitive Tarzan, and in his premier outing, he is certainly powerful, handsome, and, savagely sexy. Exciting, with some great vine-swinging, MGM'sversion made ERB's sophisticated jungle lord into a primitive boy toy, a hunk with no brains ("Me Tarzan") but a lot of brawn, who quite literally sweeps city gal Jane Parker (Maureen O'Sullivan) off her feet. Who could resist a guy that wrestles lions before breakfast, outswims alligators after lunch, and then rides elephants into the sunset? Weissmuller, who lost much of his panache as the series plodded on, continued in the role until he became too chubby for the vines.

THE NEW ADVENTURES OF TARZAN (1935) -- This 12-chapter serial, with ERB himself as co-producer, is one of the few entries to depict Tarzan as an articulate English lord. The Guatemala-lensed flick is also vintage Burroughs: fast-paced nonsense about sinister spies, a priceless Mayan statue, and a savage, secret civilization. The acting stinks and so does the dialogue ("You will indeed have to be clever and very alert"), but star Herman Brix is pretty nifty in the trees.

TARZAN'S REVENGE (1938) -- With a face (and whistle) like Harpo Marx's, Olympic swimmer Glenn Morris is the oddest Tarzan of all: animal doctor, playful lover, and all-around terrible actor. Aimed at tots, the story has cute critters, dull "action" scenes, and a simple-minded band of white explorers that includes future gossip columnist Hedda Hopper. Even such dumb entries have their moments, however: when the apeman and his mate sleep under a moonlit sky, ERB's dream is seen at its most ideal: no words, no worries, just monkey love. The title is a mystery.

TARZAN AND THE TRAPPERS (1958) -- Gordon Scott made the best Tarzan films ever (Tarzan's Greatest Adventure and Tarzan the Magnificent, neither on tape), butthis one, a motley collection of three TV pilots that never sold, is real bottom-of-the-barrel stuff. Watch for suburban Jane (Eva Brent) ironing a loincloth. The film has the usual collection of evil whites, intruding on a jungle paradise of savage natives (actually members of Harlem basketball teams).

TARZAN THE APE MAN (1981) This Bo Derek vanity vehicle, directed by her husband John with "arty" slow-motion action scenes, led the ERB estate to sue, and no wonder: Milos O'Keefe plays the Jungle Lord as Dumb Jock Sex Object, while Little Bo Peek offers Jane as semi-nude tomboy, fond of clingy, wet clothes and inane dialogue and competing with her gin-soaked father (Richard Harris), a sensualist who yells things like "Do you feel the fear? Fear is intoxicating." Director Derek undercuts any possible thrills by shooting every action scene in "arty" slow motion, preferring to concentrate on his singletalented wife.

GREYSTOKE: THE LEGEND OF TARZAN, LORD OF THE APES (1984) The existential Tarzan: Lord Greystoke searches for his identity (Man? Beast? Closet yuppie?) in what is often called the definitive Tarzan flick. It isn't, but the first half is the most effective rendition of the jungle-man's origin ever seen, as the orphaned baby Greystoke is adopted and raised by a tribe of great apes. That sequence -- with nary a word spoken -- is endlessly fascinating, and Christopher Lambert makes a superb Tarzan. Where the whole conceit falls apart, though, is when director Hugh Hudson plays social commentator, abandoning Burroughs so that his hero can be defeated by the civilization he tries to master. Hudson, preferring a wimpish wild child to ERB's fantasy figure, turns up his nose at society -- and, finally, at Tarzan himself.