George Miller's first film since the triumphant, intoxicating and euphoric Mad Max: Fury Road is a work to be admired more than loved. Miller's filmography is undoubtedly one of the most eclectic ever committed to celluloid, so it's very fitting that he follows up one of the greatest action films of all time (no exaggeration) with Three Thousand Years of Longing, an anecdote-driven fantasy epic primarily set in one location. On the surface, the concept is a baffling proposition, but Miller has never been one to shy away from inventive showcases of wondrous oddities, whether they be sentimental (Babe) or heart-pounding (Mad Max). This film squarely — and underwhelmingly — falls between these two extremely, never becoming anything more than the sum of its parts. But rarely do filmmakers fail this gloriously and enchantingly.
Adapted from A.S Byatt's short story, The Djinn in the Nightingale's Eye, Three Thousand Years of Longing follows lonely but content narratologist Alithea (Tilda Swinton), who is in Istanbul giving a lecture against the relevance of mythology and legends in the modern age. During her trip, she comes across a mysterious vial, which she opens in her hotel room, unleashing the Djinn (Idris Elba) it sealed for ages. The Djinn, desperate to grant her three wishes in exchange for his freedom, tells her of his tragic life. What ensues is a fantastical dive into some of the world's oldest and greatest fables that doubles as a swooning romance.
This being a George Miller production, it's no surprise it is a visual marvel to behold. It maintains a bold stylistic and visual flair that wonderfully evokes the kaleidoscopic beauty of the Technicolour classics of the '40s and '50s. Its graceful and elegant camera movements only serve to heighten its photographic craftsmanship. John Seale's cinematography deserves to be seen on the grandest screen moviegoers can find, as much of the film's appeal can be attributed to its mastery of "pure cinema".
Yet, as the story unfolds, the underlying cracks become completely apparent. This is mainly a result of its overall structure and framework. The chief issue rests on Miller's decision to concentrate the lion's share of the story on the Djinn's century-spanning flashbacks, which traverse the Ottoman Empire and much more. What should have been a beautiful lament about the Djinn's loneliness, tragic fate, and desire for meaningful connection and freedom is blandly transformed into surface-level musings.
Sure, these legends and fables allow Miller to indulge in outlandishly beautiful costumes and production designs, but they are quickly diluted by a lack of dramatic tension or catharsis. Mesmerizing camerawork and gilded ambition only go so far, and it leaves much to be desired. Miller often gives us delicious, thought-provoking crumbs, but never the full cookie, resulting in an underwhelming experience, especially when the film enters its aimless third act, which drags and threatens to go on for another few millennia.
Tilda Swinton and Idris Elba work off each other impeccably well, sharing an innate chemistry that makes this film, at the very least, a great showcase for their talents. Once both grace the screen in unison, it's not hard to be absorbed into their dynamic interplay of existential banter and budding sexuality. Yet, their prowess can't make up for the film's shortcomings. Despite their captivating range, the movie comes across as emotionally muted, rather than transcendent. As a result, Miller's foray into fantasy is little more than a would-be epic.
Three Thousand Years of Longing is a noble misfire. The love and passion it was made with is entirely evident but it consistently prioritizes style over substance. Hopefully Miller's next outing will emphasize a solid vision before anything else.
Despite all its flaws, it's very easy to admire its ambition, even though its warm portrait about the power of storytelling is undone by a rickety canvas. Yet, in a world dominated by safe choices and uninspired filmmaking, it is refreshing to witness a vibrant failure amidst so much middling success.
(Elevation Pictures)Adapted from A.S Byatt's short story, The Djinn in the Nightingale's Eye, Three Thousand Years of Longing follows lonely but content narratologist Alithea (Tilda Swinton), who is in Istanbul giving a lecture against the relevance of mythology and legends in the modern age. During her trip, she comes across a mysterious vial, which she opens in her hotel room, unleashing the Djinn (Idris Elba) it sealed for ages. The Djinn, desperate to grant her three wishes in exchange for his freedom, tells her of his tragic life. What ensues is a fantastical dive into some of the world's oldest and greatest fables that doubles as a swooning romance.
This being a George Miller production, it's no surprise it is a visual marvel to behold. It maintains a bold stylistic and visual flair that wonderfully evokes the kaleidoscopic beauty of the Technicolour classics of the '40s and '50s. Its graceful and elegant camera movements only serve to heighten its photographic craftsmanship. John Seale's cinematography deserves to be seen on the grandest screen moviegoers can find, as much of the film's appeal can be attributed to its mastery of "pure cinema".
Yet, as the story unfolds, the underlying cracks become completely apparent. This is mainly a result of its overall structure and framework. The chief issue rests on Miller's decision to concentrate the lion's share of the story on the Djinn's century-spanning flashbacks, which traverse the Ottoman Empire and much more. What should have been a beautiful lament about the Djinn's loneliness, tragic fate, and desire for meaningful connection and freedom is blandly transformed into surface-level musings.
Sure, these legends and fables allow Miller to indulge in outlandishly beautiful costumes and production designs, but they are quickly diluted by a lack of dramatic tension or catharsis. Mesmerizing camerawork and gilded ambition only go so far, and it leaves much to be desired. Miller often gives us delicious, thought-provoking crumbs, but never the full cookie, resulting in an underwhelming experience, especially when the film enters its aimless third act, which drags and threatens to go on for another few millennia.
Tilda Swinton and Idris Elba work off each other impeccably well, sharing an innate chemistry that makes this film, at the very least, a great showcase for their talents. Once both grace the screen in unison, it's not hard to be absorbed into their dynamic interplay of existential banter and budding sexuality. Yet, their prowess can't make up for the film's shortcomings. Despite their captivating range, the movie comes across as emotionally muted, rather than transcendent. As a result, Miller's foray into fantasy is little more than a would-be epic.
Three Thousand Years of Longing is a noble misfire. The love and passion it was made with is entirely evident but it consistently prioritizes style over substance. Hopefully Miller's next outing will emphasize a solid vision before anything else.
Despite all its flaws, it's very easy to admire its ambition, even though its warm portrait about the power of storytelling is undone by a rickety canvas. Yet, in a world dominated by safe choices and uninspired filmmaking, it is refreshing to witness a vibrant failure amidst so much middling success.