A Deep Dive into Jungle's 'VOLCANO, The Motion Picture'
ENTERTAINMENT & ARTS
Redefining Music, Dance, and Visual Storytelling.
4 MINS READ TIME
Words BY
JOVEL ROYSTAN
In a doom-scrolling world of dog videos, influencers blowing kisses from a pool, content creators posing—candidly, of course—on a SoHo balcony, and that random video you never asked the algorithm for, stumbling across an authentic piece of art can be a rare occasion. My thumb dances across my phone screen, and post after post becomes an instant afterthought. Maybe it’s less a shortage of actual creative inspiration and more a lack of effort on my part to search through all the clutter to find it, but alas, earlier this year, something broke through. A clip from Jungle’s Back On 74 music video found its way into my feed, boasting beautifully warm colors touched with that grainy film-like texture that I love (think Euphoria Season 2). But while the camera work paused my scrolling, the art unfolding before me drew me in.
Serving as the visual for the fourth and final official single from Jungle’s latest album, Volcano, the sonic signals flowing my way, the styling, and the incredibly vibrant choreography demanded that I discover more. That I hear and see more. To my surprise and pleasure, Back On 74 was just one piece of a larger, must-see—strike that, must-experience—puzzle.
Hitting a decade in the game this year, Tom McFarland and Josh Lloyd-Watson, the two British master producers-instrumentalists-vibe makers, and childhood friends behind Jungle, are set on delivering the level of work you’d expect from such seasoned creatives. They’ve risen through the global ranks of electronic dance acts and found staying power through constant evolution. While the music is enough on its own to convert you, their dedication to keeping the journey for fans ever-expanding elicits a sense of loyalty to the duo. Be it remixed renditions of their older catalog to keep the audience experience fresh or the performative storytelling style they’ve adopted in their visuals—positioning the most talented dancers, not themselves, front and center—this is how you want your favorite acts to grow with you in an industry where it’s easy to get lost in what’s trending or profitable rather than what fans are longing for.
That agency to create on their terms is in no small part a result of having launched their label, Caiola Records, under which they released their 2021 album Loving in Stereo and Volcano, which dropped this summer. Plenty of artists aspire toward such a level of autonomy in this day of followers, likes, virality, and corporate red tape. Still, when it’s attained, it pays off. This latest release is loaded with 14 tracks and 45 minutes of what the guys do best—make you move, feel something, and feel good. This time, the duo created a full-length motion picture spanning the entire project, brought to life through big vision and masterful skill. Described by the team as “a dance masterpiece that unfolds within the mystic realm of a television studio,” the project introduces us to a cast of genuinely otherworldly dancers who take us through the inner workings of a fictional TV program. It’s reminiscent of the Russian doll narrative style of Wes Anderson’s Asteroid City, making a movie about a TV show about a play—except here, we have a music film about a TV show that’s essentially an opera. If you think that’s hyperbole, it’s their words, not mine, as McFarland shared with Rolling Stone UK: “It feels to me like we’ve created this kind of weird, modern electronic, funk-soul-disco, dance opera… it makes us quite emotional seeing the songs realized in such an amazing way by these amazing dancers.” Having been known for centering their videos around performers and choreographed storytelling, the duo finds this approach an effective way to showcase human expression and movement in its rawest form. In VOLCANO, The Motion Picture, that concept is maximized and expanded into its most complete manifestation yet.
We follow dancers Will West and Mette Linturi, longtime featured performers in Jungle videos past, as they take their spotlight to a new level. The two continue a storyline (potentially) years in the making—flashback to the Heavy, California video—starring as two lovers who have left each other’s orbits only to crash back into one another. Like every good love story, right? Well, that’s my interpretation anyway. With very few spoken lines and only the music and performances to guide you, the project lets you choose your adventure, especially if you’re not as familiar with the band’s earlier videos. The film’s overarching storyline charts its course, not directly following the album’s lyrics in a literal or linear way through and through, so the interpretation and experience genuinely are what you make it. I mean, isn’t that the best thing about art anyway? Two people take in a thing and produce vastly different responses; internally, for sure, but perhaps even externally—be it a tear or an uncontrollable impulse to move your body. I can’t say you’ll need a box of tissues for this one, but I dare even the most dance-averse music consumer to get through the full listen without any physical response. That’s part of the magic. As you process one moment to the next and actively fill in the blanks of what’s going on—why they’re voguing down this catwalk or dancing in the dark—the details you design leave you feeling partially responsible for the unfolding story. And going back to that cardinal rule of art interpretation: there’s no right or wrong answer; your answer—is freedom. We don’t always find ourselves savoring in a time and culture where everyone’s ready for war online, pristine social media profiles determine self-worth, and any careless word or opinion can offend or end a career.
West and Linturi headline the cast, supported by a troupe of 16 other performers, all of whom you form an immediate affinity for and are devastated to part with by the time the credits roll. It’s like when you’d leave your new best friends at the playground—strangers brought together by circumstances of chance but now bound together by an undeniable connection. And if you can’t relate, then think about that emotional attachment you get from binge-watching your favorite show and fervently loving/hating your favorite characters only for a season finale to come around that feels way too soon—but then sprinkle the soul-stirring power of dance on top. And they play this game of seduction without saying one word to us (except Samuel Mena Garcia, who doubles as a host of sorts for the fictional show with a few lines between tracks). Each performer shines in what I can’t help but imagine would be any modern dancer’s dream job. Seriously, as an actor, I watch so many shows and films, and I think of how incredible the experience must have been for the artists involved. In trying to switch my lens to that of a dancer, I found myself experiencing major freudenfreude from the first frame to the last.
The choreography, much like the soundtrack and diverse band of dancers, is anything but homogenized. Each song flows cohesively across the project’s storyline but maintains its own undeniable identity, blending those above electronic, dance, soul, funk, and disco elements into 14 unique tale chapters. And that variety makes for a dynamic series of routines that hits hard from the start and doesn’t let up, offering surprise after surprise, even for softer, intimate numbers like Good At Breaking Hearts. For nearly 50 minutes, Jungle and its dancers dare you to blink lest you miss something unmissable. Pick your poison: choreographer Shay Latukolan and his team compose moving poetry with no shortage of styles, all captured in beautiful one-shot takes per song—a cinematic choice that not only pushes the project into a new stratosphere but requires artists with the physical and technical capacity to execute without fail. The band released a behind-the-scenes video from the Back On 74 shoot, and you immediately understand how advanced of a project this truly is—for everyone involved. There are no cuts, no camera repositioning for a different angle, and no breaks to catch your breath until the song fades. Dancers must hit their marks, lighting cues must be on time, and the cameraman must move because “Action!” means it’s showtime. It’s pretty reminiscent of the theater in that respect, telling a captivating story of the innovations and evolution of dance. Candle Flame offers a new take on The Robot that you never knew you needed in your life; Holding On gives you the tens, tens, tens across the board of the ball scene with authentic house energy (those unfamiliar with the culture might consider it an insane Soul Train line), and Back On 74 packs suave soul stylings a la the actual Soul Train performances of the ‘70s. There’s even (likable) crumping in You Ain’t No Celebrity. Still, arguably, the most fascinating sequence is in Coming Back. I won’t spoil it, but there’s an apparent reason why stunt work is sometimes called “fight choreography.” And when the meta transitions in the control room finally give you a second to catch your breath, you’re left wanting a bit more.
During those scripted moments between songs, when they “call cut” and the characters laugh and celebrate, you feel like you’re getting a sense of the energy on set throughout the entire production process. Couple that with the voyeuristic spirit that the camera style offers scene to scene—constantly moving in and out of the action like a guest at the party—and you’re left with a feeling of being there that you can’t shake. There were moments where I genuinely got lost in the experience of watching. At one point in Every Night, the song feels Like You’re in the Middle of a Dance Floor, I watched my fellow party-goers all around me and felt isolated, like I was the only one no one was dancing with. I eventually remembered I was looking at a computer screen and let the party commence.
One only gets lost in a film like this when a team of highly skilled artisans who understand what they’re doing is involved. Directed by their longtime collaborator Charlie Di Placido alongside J.Lloyd, the project was captured by director of photography Natasha Duursma, with camera operator Gary Kent executing his precise footwork of sorts in managing the Steadicam to get those seemingly endless one-take shots. Stylist Melo made this moving fairy tale feel simultaneously modern and like a period piece with unique styling that perfectly complements the musical references, past and present, inherent in each track. And no fairy tale is complete without a dreamy world to take place in: enter production designer Sam Storey. But, respectfully, the real superheroes are Latukolan and assistant choreographers Lars Bohte & Oriane Serveille (who is also a featured dancer in the project). They successfully remind us of the full lengths that dance can reach as it can freely bend and shift from one genre to the next.
If you’ve sat at dinner with me even once, you’ve probably heard me “talk calmly” about the laughably low bar we’ve set for mainstream pop artists today. I’m in my early ‘30s and proudly taking up my mantle as an old head, so I must remind the kids how better things were in my day and the times that have come and gone. We’re floating through this dystopian era where artists don’t sing like they used to, and music videos are void of engaging concepts and memorable storylines. There, I said it. But… as an agreeable man, I’ll be fair: a few artists are doing incredible things right now—Jungle included. The idealist in me longs for a world where, if you had even one other artist in your field making masterpieces like this, you couldn’t help but be moved to step up your game and try to raise the bar higher. But again, that’s the naive idealist in me. In the meantime, I can hope for a better tomorrow. And if nothing else, knowing that there’s an exceptionally talented minority will keep my heart full (well, complete enough).
VOLCANO, The Motion Picture has safely cemented its place among the projects that have changed or expanded how I consume and respect any given art form. It’s a case study of what can happen when top-level execution in various fields intersect at a common point and react nuclearly. And that should move any of us (pun not intended), regardless of passion, music taste, or affinity for dance. But suppose that all feels too deep for you in its simplest form. In that case, it’s a significant sensory experience that offers so many reasons to feel good—and isn’t that such a beautiful departure from our everyday news cycle or another evening of scrolling? You can check out the film for free on YouTube and listen to VOLCANO on your favorite streaming platforms or vinyl via JungleJungleJungle.com.
