STORY STUDY - CRITERION WEEK - 431. “The Thief of Bagdad”
Fantasy, Middle-Eastern lands, magic carpets, evil royal consultants, Djinns, street thieves, royalty? All sound familiar, doesn’t it?
Welcome to the world of The Thief of Bagdad.
Directed by Ludwig Berger, Michael Powell and Tim Whelan, and screenplay & dialogue by Miles Malleson and scenario by Lajos Biro, the film revolves around the prince of Bagdad, Ahmad, and a young thief named Abu.
Ahmad is arrested by his guards by order of his Grand Vizier, Jaffar, who seeks his position, after being tricked by him to dress like one of the peasants to better understand them.
Ahmad and Abu meet each other in the dungeon prison when Abu is arrested and sentenced to death for his crimes.
They both escape the dungeon and flee to the neighboring kingdom of Basra, where they encounter the Princess named… the Princess. In true Disney fashion, Ahmad and the Princess fall in love with each other in less than a minute (Literally. They meet each other, fall for each other, and kiss in the same scene.)
However, Jaffar also comes to Basra to appeal to the Sultan in order to gain approval of him marrying the Princess. When Ahmad and Abu come face-to-face with Jaffar once again, Jaffar uses his powers to make Ahmad blind, and turns Abu into a dog.
Ahmad and Abu then go on a series of obstacles to regain their true selves, and rescue the Princess before it’s too late.
So yeah, obviously, based on the plot points, the set designs, and even character designs, it’s very clear how inspirational this 1940 film had become. I didn’t get to the part of the Genie, I’m sorry, Djinn character because he comes in the latter half of the film… and then leaves the plot after about twenty minutes.
He’s not even part of the climax. And no, he’s not comic relief, or even a polite being; he’s out for blood if you don’t keep him under control!
From a special effects standpoint, the film is a technological beauty and marvel. It’s the first to use bluescreen, and its clever use of practical effects and camera techniques earned the film the (now-defunct) Academy Award for Special Effects at the 13th Academy Awards.
From a story perspective… it’s not the greatest. For one thing, the film uses non-linear storytelling, which would be fine, except they abandon it halfway through the film. If they wanted to explain how Ahmad and Abu became afflicted, why not just use linear storytelling. This could be because the use of flashback used by its inspiration, Arabian Nights, but it seems unnecessary in this case when its only purpose was to play catch-up.
Then, there are the characters. Look, I’m not going to pretend that this fantasy adventure needs to have complex characters, but that’s not really what my complaint is revolved around. It seems Ahmad’s purpose in the story, as well as the Princess, is to be the romantic plot of the film. However, all the work, action, and peril is left for Abu, who you can tell is a very brave and clever boy, using his smarts to outwit villains, and fighting off monsters, even though in a normal situation, he would probably get eaten or stepped on.
My point is he does all the work just to help Ahmad get the girl. Then again, if he doesn’t mind it, then I shouldn’t. After all, the film does seem to give Abu the most screen time, as it should.
I would address the inappropriate casting for a majority of its characters, but this was 1940.
Oh, and without giving away what it is, but there is a Deus Ex Machina. One that is never brought up or referenced in the finale or ending of the film.
I discovered The Thief of Bagdad after going through the Criterion Collection inventory, and I thought this fantasy film would be interesting, and it is.
Like with the concept of a modern-day blockbuster, it’s better to go into this film just for the effects of its time, which are impressive. It is a fun, exciting story if you’re willing to forgive its storytelling shortcomings.
Take flight on your flying, wind-up horse, and check it out.
https://www.criterion.com/films/544-the-thief-of-bagdad?q=autocomplete