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It’s kinda hard to review Lord of The Jungle because, like much of Generation X, I don’t have much of a relationship with the character of Tarzan. The Johnny Weismuller flicks were well before my time. Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of The Apes opened just before (and was doomed to lose my eyeballs to) Ghostbusters and Gremlins. And 1981’s Tarzan, The Ape Man was something you taped off of HBO late at night to fast forward to the Bo Derek nude scenes for to see if your dinkle would do that spiffy trick again.

So, having more of a history with Captain Caveman than with Tarzan, I can only rate this book on its individual merits, of which it has several. Unfortunately, pacing doesn’t seem to be one of them. But we’ll get back to that in a minute.

Last month’s first issue was pure setup, putting Tarzan’s parents into the jungle to set up Tarzan’s apparent orphaning and adoption by apes. We start issue 2 twenty-one years later, with mutineers landing on the coast of the Congo jungle with their prisoners: an English Indiana Jones-looking guy named Cecil Clayton, one Professor Porter, and his daughter Jane… and even I know who Jane is, despite being half-convinced that if Tarzan was raised by apes, by 21 years old, he’d be fucking one, based purely on my complete lack of background in biology and observations of friends’ dogs who seem utterly willing to marry my leg.