The film is the newest in a line of successful Disney cartoons: it follows "Mulan," "Hercules," "The Hunchback Of Notre Dame," "Pocahontas," "The Lion King," "Aladdin," "Beauty And The Beast," and, of course, the mother of them all, "The Little Mermaid."
The familiar ingredients—absent parents, unthreatening yet princely hero, perky but ditzy heroine, swarthy villain, cute sidekicks, hugs, lessons, and a CD's worth of forgettable pop tunes—have served Disney since 1989's The Little Mermaid.
"Revolutionary" and "Disney" are not words typically combined, I know, but the studio's adaptation of Tarzan must surely qualify: for it introduced a new technology that was the most important and amazing new development in 2-D animation since the introduction of CAPS with The Rescuers Down Under , nine years earlier (right, the "introduction" happened with one scene in The Little Mermaid , but that was more like a demo reel).
That's why Ariel survives in The Little Mermaid , the bulk of Aladdin only vaguely resembles "A Thousand and One Nights," The Hunchback of Notre Dame completely eviscerated Victor Hugo's attacks on the Catholic Church, and Hercules conveniently ignored the sexual appetites of the gods of Olympus.
Musker, Clement and their team take the 3-D animation dubbed "Deep Canvas" that was developed for "Tarzan" and brings it a giant step forward.
Along for the journey is fussy Dr. Doppler (David Hyde Pierce), yet another comic relief device who arranges in his awkward academic way (a way with which we're recently reacquainted in Disney's own Atlantis ) for the services of the feline Captain Amelia (Emma Thompson, modeling her chop-chop interspeciel love interest character on Minnie Driver's Jane (Tarzan)) and her ship, the R (obert) L (ouis) S (tevenson) Legacy.