Okay, here's the deal. It was Saturday morning, and my alarm clock shocked me out of a deep sleep. (It was great too. I was dreaming my own personal "Baywatch" episode. Yasmine was just about to show me her sand castles....) I had set it for 5:15 a.m. the previous night, with the ambitious idea that I'd get up early and work in the yard before it got too beastly. My goal was to clear out the underbrush from my back acre, and build a little garden spot where I could light up some Tiki lamps, serve boat drinks and eat nachos after dark. After a good hour of work, I found myself lost in my own backyard, engulfed within four towering walls of kudzu. For those of you wonderin' what kudzu is, it's a Southern weed that shows up when you least expect it, grows wildly out of control, and won't ever go away completely. Let's just say it's the horticultural equivalent of The Jehovah's Witnesses.

Anyway, by mid-day, sweat was pouring off me like some Abyss sequel gone haywire, and I decided to call it a day. Instead of trying to fight the jungle, I decided to watch it instead, and trucked over to the Dodecaplex and caught the Disney live-action cartoon, George of the Jungle.

I'd wanted to see GOTJ for months, ever since I saw that bongo-laden sneak trailer during the 101 Dalmatians do-over. Evidently, other folks were keyed up too, since the theater was packed with kids -- parents and babysitters holstered nearby.

I walked into this thing with the same trepidation that carried me into Dalmatians, the idea that remaking a cartoon is a dicey proposition, especially one with the peculiar sensibility of Jay Ward's. Thankfully, my concerns were quickly soothed, when this cinematic doohickey opened with a cartoon retelling of George's origins, sung with melodic monotony by the Presidents of the United States of America (a musical casting coup, if you ask me.)

From there we were escorted through a live-on rendition of the original 'toon, updated with an 80s feel and a storyline fit for a film. In a snack-size synopsis, the plot follows the rich-but-sweet Ursula Stanhope, (The Cable Guy's Leslie Mann) on safari in the jungle, accompanied by her self-stuffed fiance, Lyle, (played with hilarity by Thomas Haden Church, late of TV's "Wings" and "Ned & Stacy") and a merry band of guides, poachers and natives. The group gets a jones to find the legendary "White Ape", and it's none too long before said "White Ape" appears, swinging dangerously on a runaway vine, in the form of our hero, George of the Jungle. It's enough for me to say that Ursula and George hit it off, and we're not just talking jungle drums here. Their relationship takes them through a host of adventures, the least of which involves a trip to San Francisco and George's big-city culture shock.

Granted, the plot's as thin as truckstop toilet paper, but in this case, it's merely a pieshell to hold the fruit filling of cheeky characters, cartoon parody, and impish humor that makes this flick a fun day at the theater. Leading the charge is, of course, Brendan Fraser, as the titular George. Fraser has beefcaked himself to the max for this role, but he doesn't leave it to his pecs to carry the day. He's managed to carve out a genuine performance by becoming a cartoon character -- dumb and clumsy, yet somehow heroic and appealing too. With a good gross, this thing should get him a notch closer to deserved A-list status.

The filmmakers knew that the pieces were already in place to make this a successful film, and they didn't muck with it. The self-referential style of the original Jay Ward cartoons is intact, and couldn't have come back at a better time. The digital effects that allow animals to talk, do stunts, and dance the watusi are firmly in place and make this thing comedically believable. For example, George's pet "dog" Shep is a blast. Just you wait 'til he appears on screen. Director Sam Weisman paints a pretty picture too, blending the eye-popping visuals with a clever comedic pace. A highlight of George is the ever-present narrator, lending his two cents on almost every scene, underscoring the goings-on with the same sort of sarcastic, hollow tone that made the Ward cartoons so much fun to watch back in my childhood. John Cleese provides the voice of Ape, the erudite gorilla who trains George in the ways of life and love. Naturally, Cleese delivers the film's pithiest lines, and his presence is a happy touchstone for the film's structural backbone. (Check out that critical gem! Eat your heart out, Pauline Kael.)

The rest of the cast has just one simple purpose -- set up the laughs and let George knock 'em down, sometimes literally as he's apt to collide with things on a frequent basis. Mann is out in front as the tenderhearted Ursula. Her voice has an appealing mousiness, (as opposed to the unappealing type of say, Jennifer Tilly) and she's got a nifty sense of timing to boot. An added plus is the fact that she's one of those natural beauties that you actually believe would still look good after a week in the jungle without her Clinique kit. The native guides, led by Richard "Shaft" Roundtree, fire off a full clip of semi-automatic laughs. More comic turns come from scenes featuring Abraham Benrubi (TV's "E.R. ") and Greg Cruttwell (2 Days in the Valley), onscreen as a pair of evil poachers on a quest to turn Ape into a profitable sideshow attraction.

Like 101 Dalmatians before it, George of the Jungle does dissolve into some disappointing slapstick in its last reel -- a fight scene between George and the poachers is particularly rife with titty twisters, farts, b.o., and crotchkicks, but it's enough in keeping with the overall spirit of frivolity that it's not too abrasive. Fifth-graders will love it, I'm sure.

George of the Jungle is a fine dry run for what I hope is a wholesale revival of the Jay Ward catalog. Tom Slick, Dudley Do-Right, and of course, Rocky & Bullwinkle, would all translate well to the bigscreen, creating a cinematic kudzu jungle that I wouldn't mind getting lost in for a few days.