Scientists predict that by 2050, 80% of the world’s population will live in cities, forced inland due to rising sea waters and away from agrarian societies in search of economic opportunity. The globe is expected to reach 9.8 billion people by then, most relegated to megacities ill-equipped to handle the congestion.

People move — toward opportunity, away from war and other imminent dangers like drought and food insecurity. Animals move, too, for many of the same reasons. Until recently, the odds of seeing an armadillo in Illinois was slim to none. Now? It’s entirely possible.

The very idea of building something so permanent as a city suggests humans have largely abandoned their tether to the Earth. Yet the city also represents the pulse of human nature, innovation, productivity and artistic expression. This paradox is at the heart of Akram Khan’s “Jungle Book reimagined,” on view now at the Harris Theater and kicking off the venue’s 20th season dance offerings.

Khan’s story starts in a frighteningly close future as humans scramble for dry land in a human-made climate crisis. The curtain opens on a dozen stoic humans in silhouette, standing adroit but ever so slowly beginning to crouch, fighting a weight on their shoulders — losing bit-by-bit.

One of these humans, we later find out, is Mowgli (danced by Pui Yung Shum), who gets separated from her family and winds up in an abandoned city now populated by beasts. She encounters a wolf pack led by Raksha and Rama, who argue about whether to keep her. They go before a canine council, who ultimately accepts Mowgli into the pack. They lean on each other’s skills for survival; Mowgli recalls her mother’s teachings during a time when humans and nature were far more in tune. Under threat of annihilation by hunters in search of food and settlement, Mowgli stands up for her friends, defends their territory and ultimately chooses to leave them in search of safer ground.

It’s dark, but “Jungle Book” is also chock-full of lightheartedness and whimsy, most frequently seen in Mowgli’s interactions with lovable Bagheera and Baloo. Recorded text comes alive in comedic gestures and physical theatre which trace the tempo, timbre and connotation of the dialogue.

Khan’s “Jungle Book” is miles from British author Rudyard Kipling’s 1894 novel that shares its name — and even further from the 1967 Disney film, which is likely the more familiar reference this side of the pond. Both those “Jungle Books” have been criticized for their colonial perspective and exoticization of Indian and African cultures. In 2019, Disney added a disclaimer about the film containing “outdated cultural depictions” when it released “Jungle Book” to Disney+. Two years later, it stripped the film from children’s profiles on that platform.

Khan explicitly states awareness of the contention his source material holds in a program note. What we’ve learned about Khan, though, is that can be part of his motivation to do it. His “Giselle” moved the action from a provincial Rhineland enclave to Bangladesh, with the Rana Plaza garment factory disaster as a backdrop. “Creature” tackled Mary Shelley’s “Modern Prometheus,” a topic further explored in his solo show, “Xenos” (which Chicago sadly never got to see due to the set not arriving on time).

Unlike those, which aren’t explicitly companion pieces but sit within a similar aesthetic and approach, “Jungle Book” is something altogether new. Spectacular hand-drawn animation by Adam Smith and Nick Hillel of YeastCulture (and a team of 10 artists) is projected in front of and behind the dancers, making a 3D world for Mowgli and her friends from a 2D medium.

Aesthetically, it’s magic. Practically speaking, it’s ingenious. The bulk of “Jungle Book’s” set is just one big video file. That lowers the stakes of getting massive set pieces shipped — and apropos of “Jungle Book,” reduces the carbon footprint of touring. This point is further extrapolated by visual designer Miriam Buether, who left the stage mostly blank but for movable towers of cardboard boxes. Prop maker Marek Pomocki similarly fashioned the dubious snake, Kaa, from several dancer-operated boxes, whose head is lit up in green like a jack-o’-lantern.

Nearly 20 actors voiced the characters, their dialogue tucked into an immersive, cinematic score jointly accomplished by composer Jocelyn Pook and sound designer Gareth Fry. Lighting designer Michael Hulls, a frequent collaborator, creates a dull, grimy, post-apocalyptic world — appropriately avoiding all urge toward conventional beauty. Still, it is beautiful, with occasional splashes of amber light adding a glimmer to some scenes — a dash of hope in a dim land, I suppose. A few moments shine as every element comes together: Mowgli drawing and releasing her bow, an ominous human threatening the animal village swallowed by the sea and a 40-ish foot animated elephant explaining how they — and we — got here.

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Then there’s the dancing. Khan devised stunning ensemble sections, which sometimes feel a bit like “dance break,” disconnected from the rest. But when it comes, it’s an exquisite, dichotomous blend of grounded, animalistic playfulness and the existential dread that weighs on each character: punching toward the ground in a wide-kneed, deep squat; shrouding the eyes, ears and mouth; concocting a near-constant taffy-pull through the core and upper limbs as a blithe and nimble lower body skirts the stage’s surface. Khan’s inimitable style blends stored memories from growing up studying kathak, doing modern dance as a young adult, his deep engagement with English National Ballet and his pandemic hobby: martial arts. You can’t look at it and find any of those forms in isolation. They’re the sails in Khan’s iconoclastic imagination. The idea is the wind.

Lauren Warnecke is a freelance critic.

Review: “Jungle Book reimagined” (3.5 stars)

When: Through 2 p.m. Saturday

Where: Akram Khan Company at Harris Theater for Music and Dance, 205 E. Randolph St.

Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes with one intermission

Tickets: $20-$125 at 312-334-7777 and harristheaterchicago.org