Few fictional characters have been through the entertainment wringer as many times as Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan the Ape Man. The subject of dozens of novels, countless comic books, a TV and a radio series, Broadway plays, and more than 200 movies (the oldest dating back to 1918), the feral child raised by monkeys in the jungles of Africa has had every last bit of creative juice squeezed from its century-old legend.

One need look no further than director David Yates’ lifeless rendition, The Legend of Tarzan, for proof that the ape man has lost his swing. Even in our age of imaginative cinematic storytelling and cutting-edge computer generated imagery, where virtually anything is possible, filmmakers are still unable to turn the Tarzan character into anything more than a mumbling monosyllabic hunk of human flesh. To the delight of many though, that hunk of flesh comes in the 12-pack abs of Alexander Skarsgård whose best moments come from his various states of undress.

Yates’ vision, based on a screenplay by Adam Cozad and Craig Brewer, is a selective reflection of Burroughs’ outdated material rather than a hard outline. He tells the story of the man once known as Tarzan, who has since left the jungles of Africa for a life of luxury as a gentrified chap known as John Clayton, the fifth Earl of Greystoke and a member of the House of Lords.

When he and wife Jane (Margot Robbie) are invited to return to his native Congo to serve as a trade emissary accompanied by semi-historical figure George Washington Williams (Samuel L. Jackson), Tarzan soon discovers that there’s more to the invitation than meets the eye. He’s soon investigating troubling developments involving slave trading, diamond and ivory smuggling, and even a sinister plot that involves Tarzan himself.

It seems Belgium’s cash-strapped King has employed the services of envoy Leon Rom (Christoph Waltz) who, in turn, made a deal with local tribal Chief Mbonga (Djimon Hounsou) to turn over Tarzan to settle an old score. Naturally, those behind the plot have no idea what they are about to unleash.

Yates’ biggest imprint on Tarzan’s cinematic legend is the stylistic choice he deploys to modernize the vine-swinging hero for today’s audiences. No longer is he the pale-skinned middle-aged white man living in a lavishly appointed treehouse that would make the Robinson’s feel at home. No no. This new Tarzan is an abbed-up pretty boy who’s not afraid to get down and wallow in the mud if the circumstances warrant. He swings on vines through the jungle like Spider-man navigating the architecture of downtown Manhattan. But when it comes to dialogue, Skarsgård is better suited for unbuttoning his shirt.

Yates also attempts the same quirky tone of pulpy adventures like Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes and Verbinski’s The Lone Ranger, by injecting the dialogue with a healthy dose of in-jokes and wink-wink humor that never feel quite right. Jackson is the same wise-cracking character he’s played in his last half-dozen or  so films, and Waltz seriously needs to pick more diversified roles lest he pigeonhole himself forever in his Inglourious Basterds' Col. Landa bad-guy persona.

Then there’s the super-stylized world of the jungle and its two and four-legged inhabitants created by green-screen and computer generated effects. Not a single real animal was used in the filming of The Legend of Tarzan – and it certainly feels like it, with clunky, robotic movements that are never convincing. And the Planet of the Apes-inspired simians are a strange cross between silver-back gorillas and roided-up chimpanzees. What exactly are these creatures?

When our senses aren’t being constantly assaulted by intrusive sensory overkill, we’re plodding along through a groove-less plot hoping for a moment, any moment that might get our adrenaline flowing. It never comes. Even the jungle itself feels empty and soulless as actors navigate the artificial set pieces trying to avoid the thousand-yard stare. If computerized effects are to be employed to this degree, they’d better be flawless. They aren’t… to an embarrassing level of disappointment.

(Released by Warner Bros. and rated “PG-13” for sequences of action and violence, some sensuality and brief rude dialogue.)

Review also posted at www.franksreelreviews.com.