Three Thousand Years of Longing launches out of the gate with a whimsical spirit high on the possibilities of storytelling, as well as the cinematic tricks employed to tell stories. As literary scholar Alithea Binnie (Tilda Swinton) arrives in Istanbul for an academic conference, director George Miller (Mad Max: Fury Road, Babe) whisks us along with swerving camera movements and clever edits (cutting from the wheels of a plane to the wheels of a luggage cart, for instance). At Alithea’s lecture, the drama heightens when she thinks she sees a ghostly, ancient figure in the audience. “All gods and monsters have outlived their original purpose and are reduced to metaphor,” she claims. To which the figure roars, “Rubbish!” Back in her hotel room, she breaks open a bottle she had purchased at a market and encounters another pre-modern being: The Djinn (Idris Elba), who urges her to make three wishes, thereby freeing him. From there Three Thousand Years of Longing branches off in three directions: exploring Alithea’s apparent loneliness; sharing The Djinns’ long history of servitude at the whims of fickle humans; and considering the purpose and power of storytelling across millennia. Somewhere along the way, zipping from Alithea’s childhood to The Djinns’ stretch serving the Queen of Sheba and beyond, the air begins to let out of the film, however. The more sub-narratives we get (Miller and co-writer Augusta Gore adapted the film from a short story by A.S. Byatt), the less connected we feel to Alithea and The Djinn as individuals and, particularly, as the couple the movie eventually wants them to be. It’s a rare miss for Swinton, who is stuck in a largely reactive role (see her in Jim Jarmusch’s Only Lovers Left Alive, where she makes somewhat similar material sing). Elba is more interesting, yet remains elusive—something like a fantasy Forrest Gump as he drifts through the ages. Miller and cinematographer John Seale deliver some stunning tableaus, especially in The Djinn’s lush memories, but it all begins to feel as ephemeral as the spectral, CGI dust that swirls out of the movie’s various bottles. In short I appreciated the craft, but never felt the longing.
(8/31/2022)
