Starring: Johnny Weissmuller, Maureen O’Sullivan, Neil Hamilton, Paul Cavanagh, Yola d’Avril, “Jiggs” as Cheeta

Swing into September with The Deuce for some jungle vining and dining at the table of TARZAN AND HIS MATE!! (Bet ya saw that comin’ a mile away!) But don’t let the title fool ya: this cool jungle-canopy couple is more modern than most moderns and this Jane is anything but plain! Although, albeit admittedly at most times, barefoot – no stay-at-home apron-strung mousey-spousey be she! And while most maidens (or maidmens for that matter) don’t have men-folk fightin’ the likes of  ’gators, lions, hippos (?!?), rhinos (!?!), and ivory-poachers offa them, this feisty femme gets more than a few licks and kicks in of her own… And, yes – the lithely lissome little lady knows how to swing as well! Aahhh-ayeeyeyahhhhhhhh-ayeeyahhh!!

Be it known: our picture picks up where the previous Ape Man movie had previously left us pondering the future fate of the fiancé-jilting Jane to – in tonight’s feature – find her now thoroughly Jungled and freely frolicking in (unwed) “familiarity” with her hunky monkey-raised sun-tanned slab of mesmerized manliness and co-raising their adopted chimp-son, Cheeta – all the while winsomely guiding her Tarz-man tenderly towards a maturity “modern man” has always missed the boat of… Aahhh-ayeeyeyahhhhhhhh-ayeeyahhh!!

Helmed by MGM’s house scenic design honcho, Cedric Gibbons – his only directorial credit amongst a sea of some 1500 (!!) Art Department/Scenic Director/Design/Decorator/Production credits… as well as being the creator/sculptor of the Oscar statuette he himself was awarded more than a hefty handful of times – this follow-up to the film that made the Ape Man famous soars past its predecessor pictorially and thematically (and would be the last “adult” Tarzan to be made before the franchise went strictly for the tykes) all whilst excelling in exciting animal antics, beastly brutalities, hair-raising cliffhangings, and bold bodice choices… and raising the roof of rousing romanticism… as well as pushing the envelope of eroticism into the mail-box of what would become the moral managerizing Hays Office… It also has the honor of first-giving voice to Tarzan’s trademark animal-alerting… cry? yodel? call?? And don’t think Jane doesn’t have a yodel of her own to belt… a cry that cauterized the Capitol Theatre distaff crowd to their own counter-cat-calls of “I am Jane, hear me roar!”..  Aahhh-ayeeyeyahhhhhhhh-ayeeyahhh!!