Jane

Few images are more immediately satisfying than the one at the start of Brett Morgen’s archive-led bio-doc: a picture-postcard scene that sees beloved primatologist Jane Goodall sitting atop an arching tree, surveying the luscious green expanse in front of her. She is queen of her domain, and friend to all apes. This is one of many captivating scenes in a magnificent-looking doc which finds new life in a well-covered subject.

Its visual narrative is assembled from 140 plus hours of newly available, almost incomprehensibly luscious 16mm archive recorded by Goodall’s jungle confidant, ex-husband and famed nature photographer Hugo van Lawick. Cut rhythmically over Goodall’s expository narration and Philip Glass’ sonorous score, the footage alone – an intoxicating wash of vibrant, hyper-saturated colours and immaculate compositions – is enough to sweep the viewer in. Goodall makes an irresistible subject, describing her experiences affectingly as Morgen pieces together cuttings from the recordings to fit the shape of the story she offers, vivifying the footage through dramatic montage and the insertion of artificial sound.

Jane’s story – that of the self proclaimed “strange white ape” who wanted “to be like Doctor Dolittle” but ended up uncovering some of the most vital discoveries about man’s relation to his four legged forefathers in the history of modern science – is a compelling, if familiar one. Initially chosen for the pioneering project which most of the footage focuses on (intensive chimpanzee observation in Gombe, Tanzania) for her humility and naivité, through an intensive dedication to her work, Goodall became, as she sweetly puts it, “closer to animals and nature, closer to myself,” observing behaviours believed impossible in non-human creatures.

It’s a little disappointing then, that a film all about the excitement of breaking new ground does not reflect this inventiveness in the shape of its own form.