Why You Liked … Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle

They said Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle was a soulless imitation. A cash grab, a reboot nobody asked for. These are the same people putting pineapple on pizza.

In 1995, the world was treated to Jumanji. This movie was a romp, beckoning to Indiana Jones lovers who wanted something that didn’t involve killing Nazis. While Nazi killing’s a noble hobby, it doesn’t really mesh with Jumanji’s jungle theme park vibe and Robin Williams’ chaotic charisma.

The original came bundled with feel-good themes right there in the box. There’s friendship, family, and adventure. A dose of good-at-the-time special effects. Comedy, because Robin Williams. But there was no mirror in 1995’s Jumanji. Our heroes were themselves, and it’s this subtle difference that gives the 2017 reboot Welcome to the Jungle one of its biggest impacts.

In Welcome to the Jungle, we get a layered meta-narrative, where our heroes Dr. Smolder Bravestone, Ruby Roundhouse, Mouse Finbar, and Professor Oberon are characters in a video game. They are avatars for Spencer, Martha, Fridge, and Bethany. Each is more than what they appear to be; they carry their own attributes, as well as the foibles of their player.

And it’s this layering, and its mirroring, that brings the depth to Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle. It tackles the complex themes of friendship, acceptance of both ourselves and by others, and navigating the challenges of our modern life. The movie didn’t just upcycle a board game into a video game. It recognised that the challenges we share have evolved, and it’s this understanding that allows it to surpass its predecessor.

The Struggle is Real

While it’s clear that each player arrives in an avatar that’s their opposite, what’s not quite so clear when the movie kicks off is which archetype each player is, and how their separate struggles are more similar than they appear.

Let’s start with Spencer. He’s a geek. A nerd. A kid who likes video games, and is arguably best placed to navigate any virtual world. He’s also afraid of literally everything—dust mites, light conversation, the concept of ‘bravery’, you name it. He’s got more allergies than friends and a fear of females that borders on clinical. His attachment to Bravestone is understandable because the good professor is everything Spencer is not. Bravestone’s strong, handsome, and is always sure of what the right path is.

Martha’s your classic introverted, intelligent outsider. She’s the type who knows the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell but wouldn’t know a soccer ball if it hit her in the face. Martha aces everything—except socialising and soccer balls, which (despite her wanting to avoid the spotlight) is what lands her at the centre of Spencer’s attention (and straight to detention alongside him). She’s not interested in athletics of any kind, nor being sexy or popular, so her mirrored opposite of Ruby Roundhouse works. Ruby is fit, athletic, and a killer of men. She’s what Martha isn’t, although perhaps unlike Spencer, Martha is happy being Martha, but sometimes wishes people would see her, just a little bit.

Fridge is a jock. An athlete, supremely confident, and supremely gifted in any non-academic measure you have. But he sucks in the classroom, almost as much as he sucks at being supportive of his long-time friend Spencer. They fell out, and Spencer now does Fridge’s homework in the hopes his buddy will want to hang out again. It’s fitting that Fridge lands in the character of Mouse Finbar. Finbar is small where Fridge is a giant. Where Fridge stands alone, demanding support, in the game Finbar exists to give support to Spencer. Watching this mountain of ego packed into a pint-sized sidekick role is like watching a lion try to fit into a hamster wheel. 

And finally, there’s Bethany. The popular girl. The pretty one. Always seen, always respected, and sometimes feared, because her popular crowd can wreak havoc on anyone’s social standing. She’s never had to work at anything, let alone lift something heavier than five pounds. She lands in the very male, very middle-aged body of Sheldon Oberon. For the duration of the movie, people don’t see her for her looks or her body. Bethany needs to become someone. Develop a personality. And rely on others, without being able to show a little ankle to get the job done. For the first time in her life, Bethany’s got less than 10% battery, a dad bod, and zero likes on Instagram. The horror.

It’s these characters that showcase the duality of our struggle, but it doesn’t stop there. See, while Spencer really likes Martha, and she likes him, Bravestone can’t get the job done. Martha doesn’t like jocks. She likes nerds, and Bravestone just gets in the way. Spencer doesn’t realise this at first, but like all lessons, it’s sometimes those that are less obvious that feel the most powerful.

It wouldn’t be a complete story without some struggles for these video game characters. They all have weaknesses stated on their character cards, but their real weaknesses are the people inside them. Bravestone can’t be brave, because Spencer isn’t. Ruby can’t be the killer of men, because Martha won’t let her shine. Finbar can’t support his friend Bravestone, because of the jealousy Fridge has toward’s Spencer’s academic ability. And Professor Oberon can’t help anyone at all because Bethany doesn’t know how without her looks.

It’s easy to see ourselves in these people. Spencer, Martha, Fridge, and Bethany are clearly caricatures, but they’re not a great drift from where we may have been at school, and where we ended up. And it’s in seeing these insecurities, fears, and anxieties played out on the big screen that allows us to step away from ourselves to really see who’s in that mirror.

But the real trick here is that it allows us to see the other, as well. There’s enough distance that allows the popular people to empathise with the introverts. The tall with the short, the smart with the strong. We don’t just see ourselves, but our collective pursuit of belonging.

Build a Bridge and Get Over It

There are resistors to the new movie. When I first saw the trailer I thought it looked like a bullshit cash grab playing on our 90s nostalgia. I mean, if Hollywood had a dollar for every reboot no one asked for… oh wait, they do. But it had Dwayne, Kevin, Karen, and Jack, and any one of those actors is enough to get me to put on pants to leave the house. I saw the movie and realised there’s something more than nostalgia here.

It’s actually a good fucking movie. Here I was, ready to hate-watch it like I do with most cash-grab reboots, but nope—this one sucker-punched me right in the fun.

The action scenes are brilliant. The special effects get their job done without drawing the eye. But the stand-outs are those cornerstone actors. It’s great to see Dwayne Johnson, Karen Gillan, Kevin Hart, and Jack Black have so much damned joy making a movie. It reeks of the passion they brought to it. Dwayne Johnson could sell you sand in the desert and you’d still thank him for the abs. Kevin Hart’s there for that loud, manic energy that makes caffeine feel unnecessary. Karen Gillan? She’s there to remind us that someone can kick ass in the jungle and look like they just stepped off a sci-fi runway. If you could bottle her charm, you’d have a sold-out product, but only she can make it look this effortless. And Jack Black? Honestly, Jack Black could play a tree and still steal the show.

None of these actors needs a cash grab. They already have the cash! Dwayne’s arguably the hardest working actor in Hollywood. Karen’s got Marvel money now. When not in therapy for the travesty of the Borderlands movie, Kevin’s had a string of successful movies including the delightful DC: League of Super-Pets (also alongside Johnson). And Jack Black is Jack fucking Black.

But it’s not just these technical achievements that make Welcome to the Jungle watchable. It’s respectful to its source material. The movie acknowledges potential resistance to the change from the original’s board game setting right at the front, but then moves us quickly to the real event. It dangles just enough nostalgia in front of us to keep us hooked, but doesn’t let it turn into a boomer PowerPoint on why ‘the old ways were better.’ It uses this tiny drop of yearning to give us fresh ideas with humour, action, and special effects.

Potentially a divisive comment, but it’s also a movie that allows for more than one voice. Robin Williams was a mega star. An amazing talent. But arguably you went to a Robin Williams movie to see Robin Williams. In Welcome to the Jungle, it’s clear that each of the four main stars are there for each other. There’s an onscreen chemistry that pops. It’s a real-world echo of the understanding of diversity included in the script’s DNA.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention its other inspiration than 1995’s Jumanji. In 1985, ten years earlier, a movie called The Breakfast Club rocked the world. Starring the Brat Pack, this was an ensemble of weird misfits from different backgrounds smashed together in detention. Welcome to the Jungle remembers this trick and builds on it. By fusing The Breakfast Club with the OG Jumanji, we get an origin story that blends humour, action, and character.

It’s this respect for fun and entertainment that is a lasting homage from the new movie to its precursors. It appeals to modern sensibility, without burning our memories to the waterline.

So, What?

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle is the reboot we didn’t deserve but definitely needed. It reminds us that sometimes, against all odds, Hollywood can take something old, slap on new paint, and make us feel like kids again. If that’s not worth a trip to the theatre (or at least hitting ‘rent’ on Prime), I don’t know what is. 

But it’s more than just ‘fun’. It digs deeper, showing that even in a high-octane action comedy, there’s room to tackle real issues. It’s nostalgic without being lazy, addressing modern fears and reminding us that our differences are strengths. It gets to the heart of our modern anxieties. We’re all different, but we all bleed the same red.

And any action comedy that can make you feel that good needs to be on your shelf. Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle knocks it out of the … jungle.