Film Illiterate, wherein the proprietor records movies seen, and sporadic progress through assorted lists of the "best". Originally started after regretfully renting something forgettable for the third time. I've forgotten what, but never again! A tedious endeavour since 2005. Hello. 🙂
This is Hollywood! Rollicking, rip-roaring adventure (and a romance for the girls) -- it's our dreams, cast up on screen and brought to life.
Of course, Tarzan's technique hasn't aged well. The compositing is blatant, the tricks of editing unsophisticated (watch for the chase scenes clearly spliced together from multiple feeds -- hunter is never in frame with hunted); Johnny Weissmuller wrestles with a lion-skin rug; the pygmies are dwarfs in blackface.
Attacking the acting would hardly be fair; Weissmuller got the part because he was an Olympic swimmer and, more importantly, had an Olympic swimmer's physique. A monosyllabic ape-man is not the most taxing of roles, so even he does a creditable job.
Anyway, it might be clumsy, but the clumsiness is part of the charm. There's a wholehearted enthusiasm there, and it's all too easy to get swept up in the moment. You can imagine your grandfather or great-grandfather sitting in the cinema, wide-eyed, dragged cheering into the wildness of the jungle. It's glorious escapism. It's magic.