The tree-surfing title character is not the only creature sailing through the air in "Tarzan," the giant, writhing green blob with music that opened last night at the Richard Rogers Theater. Apes, flowers, moths, a snake, a leopard, a hut-size spider, two shipwrecked Victorians, an English botanist in her underwear: no sooner do such figures make their entrances in this restless adaptation of the 1999 Disney animated film than they find themselves pulled into some kind of airborne aerobics.
Sara Krulwich/The New York Times
Jenn Gambatese and Josh Strickland, a musical Jane and Tarzan.
Stefan Raulston, foreground, Andy Pellick and other members of the ensemble of "Tarzan," which opened last night at the Richard Rodgers.
Almost everybody and everything swings in "Tarzan." Which is odd, since the show itself, to borrow from Duke Ellington's famous credo, definitely ain't got that swing.
"Tarzan" is the latest, and most insistently kinetic, offering from Disney Theatrical Productions, the Goliath that conquered little old Broadway by turning cartoon movies from its mother company into stage shows, including "Beauty and the Beast" and "The Lion King." Directed (and largely designed) by Bob Crowley, with songs by Phil Collins and a book by David Henry Hwang, "Tarzan" feels as fidgety and attention-deficient as the toddlers who kept straying from their seats during the performance I saw.