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Jungle Book (1942 film)

1942 film by Zoltan Korda

Jungle Book is a 1942 independent Technicolor action-adventure film by the Hungarian Korda brothers, based on a screenplay adaptation by Laurence Stallings of Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book, about a wild boy who is kidnapped by villagers who are cruel to animals as they attempt to steal dead king's cursed treasure.

Jungle Book (1942)

Mowgli

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  • I am of the jungle. Their lair is my lair. Their trail is my trail. Their fight is my fight.
  • Quiet, you grinning black shadow! Quiet, grey brother. This is not our kill.

Buldeo

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  • In the beginning, you must think of nothing but silence, a silence so vast that ears can't hear it. Great trees like the pillars of the temple with furs like green carpets underneath; While above, under the dome of heaven where live the winged ones. The wind woods restless whispering across the roof of the world. These are the eaters of grass in a world of tall flesh. Early the little fawns must learn the lesson, Feet theirs make no noise, eyes that see in the dark, ears that heard the Leopard leaving his lair. For the Leopard lays by the law of claws and horns and fang. He will kill for hunger, and eat therof. But he'll never kill for killing sake, a law that all men break but jungle folks obey. These are the lords of the jungle, tribe of Hathi, the Silent ones. They go their way, eaters of grass in a world of carnage. But the wolves are the true hunters of the jungle and likes hunt while stick to their clan with a strict regard for hunting calls and tribal law. Free companion of the woods, they may fight and quarrel among their selfs and the strongest wolf must take the leadership. Yet jungle folks says that the wisest among them is the tribe of Baloo the bear He is a teacher of the jungle law. Yet there is one who knows no law. The barrel bodied mugger, the Crocodile. With his chin in his shallows and lust in his cold heart, hopping to drag dawn to the deeps all who wonder in his river banks. And in the legends of the jungle, there is a black prince; shrewdest of the lords of claw, horn and fang. As bold as a buffalo and as reckless as a wounded elephant. But the voice is soft as wild honey dripping from the tree and prier and master and afraid. Bagheera, the black panther. And now behold the villain of my tale; the killer, the man killer, the assassin who brought murder to the jungle clans. Shere Khan, the Tiger. It is said that when the first kill when he was Cain of some poor Abel of the glades; when he run from the scene of his first crime, the trees and creepers whip him with their branches and striped his yellow hide with the Mark of Cain. This evil lord they must have his dishlickers, his bullies for attendance. Tabaqui, the jackal, and the hyena; hungry for the scraps of the murderous master's feast. But my tale is not alone about outcast and heroes. I will tell you also of the rock snake Kaa; the wise one, the Oracle who taught Mother Eve the speech men use for trickery and sin. What is the book of life itself, but man's war with nature; the struggle between village and jungle. Under the mantle of wild creepers and great trees, many ruin cities lays forgotten in the pages of time where a thousand war chariots proclaim the might emigrated king before whom all men bow their heads nothing remains but a trellis for wild figs to sun upon. But what of the great Maharaja, the loser in this battles? He has left many such palaces to his cousins, the monkey folk. The Bander-logs, the outcast of the jungle. First, you must picture who I was, Milords. Buldeo, the mighty hunter. Was a long time ago and very far away, on a summer evening in the Seeonee hills
  • We're going to have a marketplace, and a temple, and a mighty city. Aye, we'll have all that if we can beat the jungle. But have you in your hundred years seen man win a war with nature?
  • Verily, you would have all of India in your picture. Nay, you would have the book of the jungle to read in my eyes.

Dialouge

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English Girl: Look at that beautiful old man, what a lovely head.
Mowgli: India is filled with old men, Memsahib
English Girl: But not like the man with the yellow turban, His is like the head of John the Baptist.
Subahdar: Memsahib, refers to the story teller.
they leave their horses and approach
Buldeo: Are these silent monsters in peace with us. It is but a truce they keep with men. But I, who have seen the task stained red with blood. I could tell you a tale of the silent ones for a few coppers. For a bowl of rice.
the English girl takes out a camera
Buldeo: What would you do with my image memsahib
English Girl: I would keep it, for a memory of India
Buldeo: Verily, you will have all India in your picture. Nay, you would have The Book of The Jungle to read in my eyes.
English Girl: Poor little thing. Poor little Nathoo. And that poor mother.
Buldeo: Poor mother! Is it every woman who can have a wolf nurse her baby for her?
English Girl: Do you believe that, Subahdar?
Subahdar: Oh, yes Memsahib. And his Excellency, your father, has many records of wolf children from Indian Hills. It is true.
Buldeo: True?, in the beginning, was it not written That the she wolfs love the children of man? Were not the wolfs the foster parents of many a child in India? Little, naked and bold; the man's cub enter the wolf cave. Ahai. He felt just at home with the cubs as at his mother side. Lost, and tired, he fell asleep among his brothers of the jungle. Akela, the father wolf, and Raksha, the mother wolf, knew that Shere Khan was prowling outside looking for the men's cub. So they took him to the family. He grew up with the cubs. They call him Mowgli.... the little frog. Father Wolf taught him his business until every rustle in the grass meant just as much to him as to his brothers the wolf's cubs. All the lords of the jungle became his friends. He had only one enemy..... Shere Khan The Tiger!
English Girl: Did Mowgli live to hunt Shere Khan?
Buldeo: Did He live? But had I know then what I know now? Twelve years had past, and Shere Khan was on the trail of the wolf boy.
Mowgli: What happen to him?
Mahala: My father shot him.
Mowgli: We missed you six months ago. He was Baloo's cousin. He has no men for an enemy.
Mahala: But my father kills any bear he sees.
Mowgli: Why?
Mahala: Because he is a great hunter.
Mowgli: He kills them even when his not hungry.
Mahala: Hungry? We don't eat bears.
Mowgli: Then why did he bring him here?
Mahala: To show how brave he is. And my father was very brave to kill that tiger
Mowgli: That old tiger. He lived on lizards and rats. He was too old to hunt rabbits. He must die in his sleep.
Mahala: I see. You could be kill a bear and a tiger in one shoot
Mowgli: I kill Baloo's cousin? I've gone fishing with him.
Mahala: Fishing with a bear? How can be a bear beat a fishhook?
Mowgli: He looks in the river, he sees the fish he wants, and then.... WHOOSH! He knocks it out?
Buldeo: So I didn't have my revenge after all. I became no Maharaja of a mighty city. Even the little village burned to the ground. In my struggle with the jungle, as you see my lords I was beaten.
English girl: And then, what happened then, what became of Mowgli and your daughter? And how did you escape from the fire
Buldeo: That, Memsahib, is another story.

Taglines

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  • It's Out of this World!
  • I'll show you the mysteries--the wonders of the jungle's savage heart!
  • THE JUNGLE FIRE! A whole world ablaze as the jungle strikes back at those who would violate its secret code!
  • JEWELLED SECRET CITY..guarded by the jungle's fiercest denizens!
  • MOWGLI, HALF-BOY, HALF WOLF . . . armed only with a knife and the love of a girl, meets the challenge of Shere Khan, the Killer Tiger!

Cast

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