A recent New Yorker cartoon
depicts a man watching a program that's "Rated 'P' for 'poop'."
The cartoonist must have just seen George of the Jungle,
a work that comes closer to the cinematic equivalent of "Pull
my finger!" than anything since Blazing Saddles. In
this kids' movie with inappropriate adult tendencies, villains
are regularly foiled by armpit odor, elephant urine, ape farts
and big piles of, yes, poop. I never saw the '70s cartoon upon
which the movie is based, but I'd bet a year's supply of Nice
'n Soft that excretory processes didn't receive such focus. I'd
also bet two coconuts and a banana that George's efforts to have
sex with his high-society love interest weren't a major plot point,
either. Though Brendan Fraser and Leslie Mann make attractive,
unpretentious leads for a Tarzan story (the former looking like
he just completed a vigorous muscle-building-and-body-oiling program),
and George of the Jungle's production values are uncommonly
high for a slapstick picture, I left the theater wondering whether
all of Hollywood was collectively regressing to their Freudian
Anal Stage. (Adding insult to injury, a preview for Flubber
showed a scene in which the springy substance flies into a man's
mouth and explodes out of his butt.) Naturally, kids in the audience
loved it.
--Woodruff
Full Length Reviews
George of the Jungle 
George of the Jungle 
George of the Jungle 
George of the Jungle 
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