The Thief of Bagdad (1940)

"I want to be a bandit, can't you understand it?"

The Korda Brothers followed The Four Feathers (1939) with an even bigger achievement. The Thief of Bagdad (1940) is a landmark fantasy movie, transcending even the impressive 1924 silent version. With its breezy storytelling and cutting edge effects, Thief remains an astonishing Technicolor marvel.

Thief's story loosely reworks the Arabian Nights. Young King Ahmad (John Justin) is tricked by vizier Jafar (Conrad Veidt), posing as a commoner only to be arrested immediately. Ahmad befriends Abu (Sabu), an adventurous young thief who helps Ahmad escape. Jafar takes power for himself, wooing the Princess of Basra (June Duprez), daughter of the ditzy Sultan (Miles Malleson, who co-wrote the script). Abu encounters a genie (Rex Ingram) who grants him dubious wishes, while Ahmad returns to Baghdad to defeat.

Though William George Menzies and Michael Powell are among the six directors, Thief of Baghdad the Kordas. The tough-minded Hungarians produced lavish works like Sanders of the River, The Four Feathers and That Hamilton Woman which dwarfed their contemporaries. British cinema was notoriously cash-strapped, yet the Kordas pulled off this lavish epic at the height of World War II. Until Powell and Pressburger hit their stride, the Kordas' industry status was untouchable.

The Thief of Baghdad remains notable for its groundbreaking effects work. Here Larry Butler perfects the chroma key effect, the progenitor of all modern green screen work. The Sultan's flight on a mechanical horse and Abu dodging the genie's giant feet have a seamlessness that still impresses. It's aided by inspired model work: Abu battles a giant spider, then confronts a demonic statute possessing an all-seeing eye, maintaining a perfect sense of scale. Accompanied by George Perinal's picture book photography, lavish set design and Miklos Rosza's beautiful score, Thief is a genuine wonderment.  

Even if Thief's effects were merely adequate, it would still be a fun ride. Miles Malleson and Lajos Biro provide a beautiful script, sprinkled with playful wit ("Very good genies are just as tiresome as very good men!") and imaginative songs. Every character's pitched as a pure archetype, befitting a fairy tale: Ahmad and the Princess fall in love at first sight, and we accept it immediately. Abu's a lovable sidekick, whose loyalty matches his thirst for adventure. Even the dastardly Jafar and deceitful Genie add endearing notes: Jafar desperately desires love, while the Genie just wants to be free. The brigandage and  

Granted, Thief is more a patchwork of colorful episodes than a cohesive narrative. Besides Menzies, Powell, Ludwig Berger and Tim Whelan, it's rumored the Kordas themselves directed several scenes. This directorial diffusion likely explains the choppy structure, why characters vanish for long periods, and why the genie episodes seem nearly irrelevant. But invention overwhelms plot considerations: Thief proves so fun plot logic doesn't matter.

Sabu showcases the charm and screen presence which made him one of the all-time great child stars. Conrad Veidt (Casablanca) mixes crafty deceit and longing torment in a perfect villain turn. Rex Ingram (Sahara) bellows and chews scenery in an endearingly outsized turn. June Duprez makes a fetching love interest, even if her Princess remains one-dimensional. John Justin's (The Sound Barrier) straight man pales next to his colorful costars.

Along with The Wizard of Oz, The Thief of Bagdad remains the gold standard for fantasies. It bequeathed an obvious influence on the genre, from Ray Harryhausen's stop motion swashbucklers through (more directly) Disney's Aladdin. Despite innumerable variants and special effects advances, Thief stands alone.

Sanders of the River

Sanders of the River (1935) is one of the Korda Brothers' most problematic movies. One critic called it England's Birth of a Nation, laying bare the racial and political biases of its era. This makes it an easy target for "politically correct" viewers, yet its inert, somewhat sloppy structure does it no favors either. Modern viewers will likely view it as a curio.

Nigeria is a British colony governed by the wise Commissioner Sanders (Leslie Banks). Good "Lord Sandy" exerts a firm but fair rule over Nigeria's chieftains, befriending Bosambo (Paul Robeson). When Sanders leaves the colony, the tribesmen stir up trouble. The Old King (Tony Wayne), resentful of Bosambo's power and influence, declares war. The new commissioner (Martin Walker) proves unable to deal with the rising, forcing Sanders to return and clear things up.

Sanders of the River makes for odd viewing. Director Zoltan Korda's episodic structuring feels like a silent movie, consisting of tableaux and self-contained set pieces. Much of the show consists of tribal ceremonies and musical numbers, which occasionally impress but largely bog down the narrative. For that matter, the movie's surprisingly short on action, with only two set pieces and some smaller bursts of violence. Those expecting a straightforward adventure like Korda's The Four Feathers might be disappointed.

By 1935 standards, Sanders of the River is impressive. The Kordas filmed extensively on location in Nigeria, a rarity for any film of that era, let alone the chronically cash-strapped British industry. Much of the second unit work captures tribal ceremonies, providing an almost docudrama feel, along with exotic animal footage. One effective montage has tribal drums beating out a war call, intercut with hyenas and hippos running wild. It's a powerful sequence, representing the elemental forces unleashed by Sanders' departure. It also points up the movie's most obvious flaw.

Sanders' racial content is harder to ignore than in, say, Gunga Din. The movie opens with a dedication to the Britons engaged in "protecting" their African subjects. The movie's main thrust is that without British rule, Africa degenerates into tribal squabbling. It's an appealing myth that absolves empire builders of responsibility for the chaos left behind; it's not British divide-and-rule and dismantling of social structures, but Africans' murderous nature. Later British movies like Simba and Guns at Batasi reiterate the same theme.   

Perhaps it's unfair to harp on this angle. For one, blackface is refreshingly absent. And Sanders does give its African characters more agency than many of its contemporaries. Bosambo in someways transcends stereotype: he's got a wife (Nina Mae McKinley) and family, proves a tough warrior and wise leader of men. Even the villainous King is smart enough to manipulate his fellow tribes, while resenting the white gunrunners who trick him into war. But the final reels make Sanders' message plain: Africans need the white man to get along in the world.

Paul Robeson loudly disowned the movie: hoping to play a dignified African chieftain, he saw Bosambo's dignity diluted through re-shoots and editing. The contrast between Robeson and Korda's intentions comes off in the finished show. Robeson makes Bosambo compelling through sheer charisma, belting out his melodramatic war songs with gusto, and commanding every scene. Yet the character misses a chance to really develop, becoming a slightly more assertive Uncle Remus-type: submissive, cheerful, eager to please.

The supporting cast registers little. In the title role, Leslie Banks is so stiff and upright he's almost a parody. Nina Mae McKinley has some nice scenes sparring with Bosambo, but never gains depth. Tony Wane makes a charismatic villain. Jomo Kenyatta, the future President of Kenya, appears in a brief role.

Sanders of the River probably didn't raise an eyebrow when first released. Today it's badly dated, and not just for the obvious reasons. It's still worth watching, but not necessarily as intended.

Sahara (1943)

The Korda brothers hit a home run with Sahara (1943), one of the best World War II movies made during the war. Expertly plotted, perfectly paced, with an interesting ensemble cast, it's an excellent, highly influential adventure film.

American Sergeant Joe Gunn (Humphrey Bogart) and his tank crew become separated from their unit during the Battle of El Alamein. Facing a trek across hostile desert, Gunn links up with a handful of British soldiers led by Captain Halliday (Richard Nugent), a Free French corporal (Louis Mercier), and a Sudanese Sergeant (Rex Ingram) and his Italian prisoner (J. Carroll Naish). They also shoot down a German plane and capture its pilot (Kurt Kreuger), who causes them no end of trouble. This motley crew reaches a remote well, where Gunn decides to make a stand against a German battalion desperate for water.

Sahara was inspired by a Soviet film, but plays like a more refined version of The Lost Patrol. It retains the Ten Little Indians structure of the Ford film, along with the siege at a desert waterhole, but plays much better. The abstract menace of Ford's Arabs is replaced by a very tangible danger in crack German troops. The movie delivers plenty of action, with lots of excellent battle scenes in the second half, around which Zoltan Korda and writers James O'Hanlon and John Howard Lawson build a very interesting scenario. The Germans have numbers and firepower on their side, but the Allies' access to water levels the playing field. This leads to a very clever, unexpected conclusion.

Like many WWII films, Sahara plays heavily on the "world united" theme, with its motley multi-national gang of Allies (Americans, Australians, Brits, South Africans, Sudanese, French) teaming up against the Nazis. The dialogue exchanges and unit bonding scenes play naturally, unlike The Lost Patrol's facile character monologues. There are a few cliches thrown our way (various characters show pictures of their wife and kids - I hope you've got your will made out!) and Bogey gets a noble speech or two, but generally the movie provides unique, well-crafted entertainment.

Humphrey Bogart is in fine form, mixing grouchy cynicism with self-sacrifice in approved Casablanca fashion. Bruce Bennett (Treasure of the Sierra Madre) and Dan Duryea (Winchester '73) play Bogart's crew. Richard Aherne is a fine foil for Bogey, and his interesting gaggle of Commonwealth troops includes Lloyd Bridges (Try and Get Me!), Patrick O'Moore (My Fair Lady) and Louis Mercier (What Price Glory?). Rex Ingham (The Thief of Baghdad) and J. Carroll Naish (Rio Grande) give excellent performances, with dignified characters that transcend ethnic stereotypes.

Sahara is a top-tier war film. Mixing excellent storytelling with exciting action, it's definitely one of the best WWII movies ever made.

The Four Feathers (1939)

1939 was Hollywood's greatest year, producing an endless number of classics: Gone With the Wind, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Wizard of Oz, Stagecoach, Gunga Din. Alexander and Zoltan Korda (The Private Life of Henry VIII), the dons of the British film industry, apparently saw all this commotion across the pond and decided to trump the colonials. The result is The Four Feathers (1939), one of the all-time great adventure films.

Harry Faversham (John Clements) is the son of a British army hero, who reluctantly obliges his father's wishes and joins up. When the British send an expeditionary force to crush a Muslim uprising in Sudan, Harry resigns his commission - ostensibly for the sake of his fiancee Ethne (June Duprez). But Harry's action is perceived as cowardice, and his three army colleagues (Ralph Richardson, Jack Allen, Donald Gray) send him a parcel of white feathers to shame him. Chastened, Harry embarks on a mad quest to redeem his reputation, disguising himself as a native and rescuing his friends - and the British army - from the Khalifa (John Laurie) and his rapacious army.

I'll avoid the PC hand-wringing that plagued my Charge of the Light Brigade review, and just point out that The Four Feathers is a blast. Its absurd plot and plethora of unlikely coincidences are perfectly pulled off, mixing well with the serious character drama and sweeping battle scenes. This is a film that knows what it is and doesn't waste time explaining why we should take it seriously: it's enough that our noble, stiff-upper-lipped heroes are doing battle with heathen savages, and there's an end to it.

The movie does seem conflicted in its message about heroism. The old fuddy duddies, particularly Ethne's father (C. Aubrey Smith), are ridiculed as pompous dopes obsessed with military glory. Harry's refusal to serve, done with the best intentions, seems noble and understandable. It's hard to reconcile this lightly satirical material with the main thrust of the story, however: if there's nothing wrong with Harry's cowardice, why ought he go through such an ordeal to redeem himself? Still, the satisfaction wrought by Harry's achievements - particularly his deflating the old man's tales of Crimean glory - makes up for the garbled message, and why take this material seriously anyway?

Filming in color on location in Egypt and Sudan, Zoltan Korda and cinematographers Osmond Borradaile and Georges Perinal provide a truly epic production. By any standards, the scale is remarkable: the Technicolor images of the green English countryside, the arid Egyptian desert, casts of thousands and flocking birds and camels, are some of the most beautiful ever depicted. The movie's rousing battle scenes, with thousands of "dervishes and fuzzy-wuzzies" charging across the desert on camel-back, dodging bullets and explosions, set the standard for seven decades of movie action. Miklos Rosza provides a suitably rousing, dramatic score. In 1939, the film must have been a revelation, particularly from the chronically cash-strapped British film industry.

John Clements (Things to Come) is fine: handsome, dashingly heroic and conflicted, he makes a perfect protagonist. Ralph Richardson (Khartoum) gives the standout performance as Jack Durrance, the very proper gentleman who fights a campaign blind and graciously gives up the girl. June Duprez's love interest is pretty but doesn't have much to do, a common failing of this genre. C. Aubrey Smith (Rebecca) and Frederick Culley (The Private Life of Henry VIII) are fine as the bluff old men who get marvellously put in their place.

The Four Feathers remains among the best of the imperial adventure genre. I haven't seen the Heath Ledger remake, but I can't imagine it has a patch on this one.