“Life’s not fair, is it?”
The first line of dialogue in “The Lion King,” spoken by that most cowardly lion Scar, is how pretty much every other Broadway producer over the past quarter century plus has likely felt about Disney’s monolith, which still firmly rules the financial jungle of live theater.
The 1997 musical, which Tuesday opened anew at Segerstrom Hall for most of February, had taken in a reported $8.2 billion worldwide as of mid-January (“Phantom of the Opera” remains a laggard second, a mere $6 billion). Tour productions of “The Lion King” have appeared on every continent except Antarctica.
The original New York production itself is closing in on $2 billion. It continues to draw at an unprecedented rate: during the week between the recent Christmas and New Years’ weekends, 9 performances brought in $4.3 million, the highest single grossing week in Broadway history.
As one astute theater-goer noted long ago as the show opened, “they’re going to have to rename it ‘the Lion Ca-ching.’”
As seen Thursday evening in Costa Mesa — before a sold-out house, naturally — the bedrock appeal of this unconquerable entertainment feels undiminished by time.
But it’s also now accompanied by the realization that in 2024 this is a production that wouldn’t likely get proposed, much less developed, in the age of digital flashiness where computer-generated effects rule.
Director Julie Taymor’s breakthrough originality in puppeteering designs, where life-sized animal puppets magically merge with the humans manipulating them, are throwbacks.
But Thursday evening, the physical craft on display continued to stagger and delight. It’s also the key component for making the first 10 minutes of “The Lion King” the most magical sustained opening to any live musical.
From the stirring first call in Zulu of “Nants ingonyama” kicking off the soaring chanted song “Circle of Life,” the elegant, naturalistic movements of the costumed puppetry animal kingdom — a plodding elephant, a graceful giraffe, swift gazelles — parading through the audience and up onto the stage remain unique pageantry.
It continues to be revelatory and has magnetic luster.
This is especially impressive because at its core “The Lion King” is basically just the original 88-minute 1994 Disney animated movie, with original songs from Elton John and Tim Rice. The highly visual staging, with the song total doubled, totals 2 ½ hours of theater.
Disney’s decades-old elixir of entertainingly telling coming-of-age tales simple enough to capture kids and yet essential enough — with deft humor and other touches — to sustain adults, is universally appealing.
This current touring production has other enduring qualities worth noting.
Supplementing the artistry, Disney has continued to spend the loot keeping the show’s look as crisp and buoyant as always, with the scenic, lighting and costuming designs still impactful over the years.
Positive notes are struck by the current performances in this tour version, too.
The show begins with the mystical Rafiki, the spirit shaman who is outside the story, but will interject herself at a crucial period when a confused Simba — in his befuddled, wandering phase — is finding his way.
Mukelisiwe Goba engagingly plays the charmingly offbeat character — even late in the show the wisecracking meerkat Timon is puzzled at who/what Rafiki actually is — as well as satisfyingly delivering the clarion “Circle of Life” call.
The pride’s initial patriarch Mufasa is nicely inhabited by Gerald Ramsey, who resignedly displays an apt weight-of-the-world quality — he conveys the instructive “They Live in You” with appropriate gravitas.
His brother, the scheming Scar, is well served by an alternatingly suave and sinister Peter Hargrave. When his turn to rule comes, Hargrave’s Scar is more like The Lion CEO — foolishly generating the ill-fated merger of Lions & Hyenas, Inc. — and he deftly serves up the character’s arch and droll comedic asides.
Darian Sanders makes for an involving adult Simba. At this juncture, Simba is stumbling about the jungle in self-exile and ridden with self-guilt, a young adult unsure of a way forward. Sanders not only personifies this, but his lovely tenor is ideal singing the plaintive, yearning solo lead of the self-examination number, “Endless Night.”
Khalifa White, Simba’s grown-up compatriot/ultimate love interest Nala, delivers the stately “Shadowland” with measured, emotional resonance.
There are also the two comic relief characters Timon and Pumbaa. A meerkat and wart hog, respectively, this is a stock comedy pairing that stretches back in time past Abbott and Costello into early burlesque routines of a century ago.
As Simba’s cohorts, the duo is introduced via the musical’s second biggest hit, “Hakuna Matata,” the show’s Act 1 finale. (An odd side note echoing during the intermission: a nearby mom in the audience kept singing the title refrain with improved lyrics of “french-fried patata” and “egg-white frittata.” Resonance in the theater is wherever one finds it).
Anyway, actors Nick Cordileone and John E. Brady schtick up their roles as much as possible; as many of Pumbaa’s fart jokes as anyone could want remain firmly in place.
While Scar felt life isn’t fair, it’s fair to report that life continues to be fine when experiencing “The Lion King.”
‘The Lion King’
Rating: 3 ½ stars (out of a possible four).
When: Through Feb. 25; 7:30 p.m. Tuesday-Friday; 2 and 7:30 p.m. Saturday; 1 and 6:30 p.m. Sunday.
Where: Segerstrom Center for the Arts, 600 Town Center Drive, Costa Mesa
Tickets: $39-$179
Information: 949-556-2787; scfta.org
