The Thief of Bagdad (1940) - #431

Staggering wonderment! Eyeball-boggling color! Pure classical fantasy on the most epic scale! A grand entertainment that went on to amaze a generation of the most influential American filmmakers of our times! I'm talking about the 1940 version of a timeless tale, The Thief of Bagdad, a most welcome journey into escapism for me after several months in a row of reality-based, old-fashioned black'n'white movie watching.

In some ways, The Thief of Bagdad could be an easy film to dismiss or underestimate by today's movie audience. We live in an era when just about any bizarre scenario imaginable can be produced with relative ease on the screen thanks to all the advances introduced over the past few decades through multiple improvements of CGI technology and other special effects. Measured by today's standards, some might say The Thief of Bagdad doesn't quite measure up, in that blue-screen halos are glaringly obvious, flying objects don't quite seem to float as effortlessly as they ought, and the small scale miniatures and models jump out more obviously than we're used to seeing these days. But to such nit-pickers, I can only say I pity you fools if these apparent shortcomings stand between you and full-hearted enjoyment of a dazzling cinematic treasure chest.

The Thief of Bagdad introduces itself to the viewer as "an Arabian fantasy" in the title sequence. That labeling, along with the year it was released, needs to impress itself upon the viewer to fully appreciate the film's merits. It hit the theaters in 1940 - a full year after World War II had broken out in Europe, when England was already hard pressed by deprivation of resources and imminent attacks by the Nazis. The fact that this production was finalized at all is quite a remarkable and justifiably celebrated achievment. It serves as a testament to the great Hungarian-born film producer Alexander Korda, whose persistent drive enabled him to overcome a host of obstacles that would have daunted less-determined auteurs from bringing their vision to life. Korda employed a team of directors to complete the project and even put energy into simultaneously filming an important piece of war-effort propaganda, The Lion Has Wings (included here as a feature-length bonus on Disc 2; I will review it here if someone asks me to in the comments section.) Despite the potential for the film to unravel into a messy hodgepodge, the end results establish The Thief of Bagdad as an enduring milestone in the history of fantasy on film.

This early scene in the film captures a few of its charms. First, we meet Abu, the thief and his friend Prince Ahmed, the rightful ruler of the kingdom whose been cast out because of his inordinate curiousity about how ordinary people live and his unwillingness to adopt cruel measures to maintain his grip on power. Check out Abu's song at the beginning of the clip, and relish the bright colors and dream-like architecture of Basra - what a dramatic contrast to what we've seen of that city since the commencement of the Iraq War in 2003!

I mentioned that the movie was pretty influential - to back up that claim, let me mention a few names: Francis Ford Coppola, Steven Spielberg, George Lucas, Martin Scorcese. If you've barely heard of this film or Alexander Korda, that might have gotten your attention! They all saw this film in their childhoods and I think any fan of theirs would do themselves a favor by getting familiar with this formative inspiration on the careers of some of the greatest filmmakers of our times. A obvious lineage from the exotic locales, set constructions and action sequences found here to their parallels in Raiders of the Lost Ark and its sequels underscores the Spielberg/Lucas connection. The Criterion DVD features a feature-length commentary track by Coppola and Scorcese who speak persuasively of the film's enduring impact on each of their careers - Scorcese and Coppola both wax effusively over scene after scene in their commentary track - that alone makes this DVD package quite a treat to delve into. I was fascinated to hear Scorcese in particular declaring near-devout tribute to the profound effect that particular scenes had on some of his films like Taxi Driver, Raging Bull and The Last Temptation of Christ.

The story itself is drawn from the famous tales collectively known as "The Arabian Nights." Most famous among them, I figure, is the story of the poor boy who finds a bottle washed up on a beach, uncorks it and inadvertently releases a genie from centuries of captivity. After dodging the genie's wrath, the rescuer is granted three wishes and is tested in the process. Here is that very scene, rendered on film, with one of the very greatest examples of a villainous "mwahahahaaa!" laugh I've ever been privileged to hear. Take that, Barbara Eden and everyone else responsible for creating the I Dream of Jeannie TV series!

The youngster in the film, who gets in his own maniacal last laugh, is the famous teenage actor Sabu, who plays Abu, the character mentioned in the title. Sabu brings so much life and energy to the film, and the more I watch him, the more I enjoy the youthful charm and energy of his performance.  He comes across as the epitome of boyish curiosity and bravado, bursting with strength, daring and fearlessness, lacking in self-consciousness and practically asexual as well - a near-perfect role model for pre-adolescent youth, with an impressive physique and infectious cheerfulness on top of it all. Though there are other fine performances, particularly by Conrad Veidt, who portrays the wicked usurper Jaffar, I think it's fair to say that Sabu's presence in this film did more to immortalize it than any other ingredient - though it's hard to overstate how impressive I found the Technicolor cinematography and set pieces, especially in comparison to other films of its era. When I think of color movies from this time, two come to mind: The Wizard of Oz and Gone With the Wind. I suppose we should also include the early Disney features like Snow White and Fantasia into the conversation as well. I think The Thief of Bagdad holds its own just fine next to those justly celebrated classics. One reason for that is the complex interweave of Orientalist fantasy and British colonialist reality that provides so much texture for the film. I'm far from well-read on the subject, but I know enough about the role of the United Kingdom in the Middle East to understand that this film was not simply an indulgence in exoticism for its own sake. Though Korda was not born in Great Britain, he solidly identified with the British Empire (his company was known as London Films) and the English involvement in Arabia and vicinity complicated the background of this story, even though all the action takes place in a time and place well before any awareness of "the Crusades" is indicated by the central characters. This Arabia knows nothing of oil production, Muslim-Jewish-Christian strife or any other interaction with the western world. The name of Allah is routinely invoked, but here Allah represents little more than an exotic synonym for the most generic understanding of God. We see a land of candy-colored palaces, brightly-colored fabrics and handsomely burnished, sun-ripened skin. (Of course, the male and female romantic leads remain practically lily-white...)

As the DVD's essay notes describe, the film's perpective blends the inherent sense of colonialist superiority over the simplistic, even superstitious native populace, so easily swayed by fantastic tales and beguiling technologies, tempered by the vulnerable insecurities that plague the pale-skinned "masters," sensing perhaps the undercurrent of injustice and exploitation upon which their imperial ambitions rest.

There's plenty of untapped potential in The Thief of Bagdad to explore its political-cultural subtext, I suppose, but far beyond that, what remains to be enjoyed is a persuasive, enchanting world unto itself, built on sets, captured on film and now preserved in all its vivid Technicolor glory for future generations to explore and get lost in. Thrills, chills and spectacular delights - the fuel for dreams of enchantment in the course of one and a thousand nights.

Next: The Lady Eve