THE THIEF OF BAGDAD

New Zealand Listener, Volume 4, Issue 96, 24 April 1941, Page 51

THE THIEF OF BAGDAD

(United Artists)

AFTER seeing the new Thief of Bagdad, I feel that my first duty should be to accord a hearty vote of thanks to A. Korda, who has

once more rung the bell and will presumably (and deservedly) collect the coconut-for if The Thief is not boxoffice then the phrase has no meaning. I saw it over the holidays, along with over a thousand other children of all ages, and that was my first reaction when the lights went up and I bailed out of the magic carpet and back to the world of cash-registers and film criticism. Korda’s version differs in lots of ways from the original Thief of Bagdad, but mainly in the casting of the title-role. The first film, older film-goers will remember, starred the late Douglas Fairbanks Sen., whereas Mr, Korda made his thief the juvenile Sabu. Which was the better casting is liable to be a topic for argument, but I very definitely preferred Sabu. Fairbanks, in a pair of baggy silk pants and a pint of brilliantine, performed extraordinary gymnastics in the best Fairbanks tradition-and in so doing reminded you that you were watching Mr. Fairbanks in The Thief of Bagdad. Sabu is young enough and (one presumes) sufficiently under the control of the director to live rather than act the part. He carries it off too, and it is not until you are holding the post-mor-tem that the departure from tradition really obtrudes. Speaking with no more than a superficial knowledge of the work of Mile. Scheherazade (who was, I suppose, the original script-writer on the job) I imagine that Fairbanks, as an adult, was the better as the thief of tradition, but Sabu to me seemed much more credible, and, for purposes of general exhibition, perhaps more suitable. As the usurping Prince Jaffar — a decidedly citrous fruit-Conrad Veidt is as villainous a vizier as you could wish. You’d never guess that only a week before he had been the skipper of a Danish freighter and in the clutches of the Nazis. Still, he is restrained enough at times to satisfy those whose adult minds survive the dual impact of Technicolor and the Arabian Nights. And I think the camera and colour men deserve an honourable mention. The film coruscates with delightful shots -bazaars, market places, old ships "like

swans asleep" in the port of Basra, and] dizzily fore-shortened views of Grand Canyon (doubling for Arabia Deserta), towering palaces, and of course, Sabu’s Genie-with-the-dark-brown-hair. Photomontage in trick scenes still shows room for improvement, but no one has perfected that yet. Some of the old properties are missing. Mr, Fairbanks had a cloak of invisibility, I think, though, being Mr. Fairbanks, he didn’t use it much and I missed the magic powder which grew an instant crop of armed men. Still, the genie and the flying horse were well in the picture and the sight of Sabu, power-diving on his carpet like an avenging Spitfire and shooting down the head executioner with his infallible crossbow just as the first of the thousand and one cuts was about to be made on the rightful prince made a good climax. A good show for the young people and for those who are not ashamed to become as little children once in a while.