Playground benches had become Pride Rocks. Unfamiliar names – Mufasa, Simba, Nala – were flying around. Girls in my class were “playing Lion King”. I hadn't seen a trailer – almost unthinkable in today’s online age – but didn’t really need to: through some kind of mysterious primary school osmosis, I already knew I was about to experience something extraordinary and important. Desperate to see it, after what felt like several torturous months (but was probably just a week), my mum took me and my sister to the local cinema. I was six when The Lion King was released in the UK. Within the other late Eighties, early Nineties offerings from the studio – Aladdin, The Little Mermaid and Beauty and The Beast – The Lion King is the crowning glory. Visually magnificent, it combines its adult-pleasing wit and child-pleasing energy and uses them to surround an unashamedly serious core.
From the day it arrived on the planet in the summer of 1994, The Lion King has been hailed as one of Disney's greatest achievements.
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