Tropic Sprockets / Three Thousand Years of Longing

By Ian Brockway

The East has inspired writers and filmmakers for centuries. There is the epic of Gilgamesh from the Sumerians, A Thousand and One Nights from various sources, not to mention Naked Lunch set in Tangier by William Burroughs. Now as if in consolidation of this material, there is “Three Thousand Years of Longing” directed by George Miller (Mad Max) and based on a short story by A.S. Byatt.

Alithea (Tilda Swinton) is a narratologist, a scholar of storytelling. She is quiet, impressionable, asthmatic and apprehensive. During a conference in Turkey, Alithea spies an enchanting blue and white bottle that she must have. In her hotel room while cleaning it, the top is jogged loose and a kind of volcanic vapor escapes. A gold foot appears followed by more appendages. Soon, a giant takes shape inside the room. More specifically it is a djinn (Idris Elba).

The djinn tells Alithea a tale of woe. He was locked away for three thousand years in love with dark eyed Zefir (Burcu Gölgedar) who didn’t believe in his powers enough to embrace him in love. As a result, the djinn was out of reach for most mortals.

Though the story is not quite as compelling as its cast, there are some striking visuals here in keeping with the potency of George Miller. At times the scenes are beautiful in their splendor, recalling the Pre-Raphaelite painters Edward Swinburne, John Millias, and Dante Gabriel Rossetti. One striking tableau features the huge djinn enfolding Alithea like a baby. She is an infant astronaut encapsulated in the ship of the genie’s body, her red hair the flame of propulsion. At other times, the film appears to quote Cronenberg’s “Naked Lunch.” Mechanical machines sprout fleshy limbs and spiders turn demonic with Pazazu growls.

Much time is taken with the trials and tribulations of the well-meaning djinn so much so that the narrative becomes a bit ponderous. 

Still, the film contains images of great punch and verve. If the ever winding story curdles your ears, the effervescent imagery is a William Morris fever dream courtesy of George Miller, and that is quite a combination.

Write Ian at [email protected]

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