ALI BABA AND THE FORTY THIEVES: Blu-ray (Universal, 1944) Kino Lorber

The age of big and bawdy exoticism reaches its absolute nirvana in director, Arthur Lubin’s Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves (1944); a not terribly prepossessing, though nevertheless, thoroughly amusing escapist fantasy, set in the never-to-be-outdone and mysterious starkness of the Middle East. Edmund Hartmann’s screenplay is cribbing from The Book of One Thousand and One Nights, but transgresses from fiction into fact, basing at least some of its story on an actual historical event. The picture stars María África Gracia Vidal, better known to the cinema world as Maria Montez, and dubbed ‘The Queen of Technicolor’ for her many glossy and glorious outings in these splashy 3-strip hues of movie-land magic. Montez - a Dominican by birth – attained ever-lasting fame as this unreal ‘bird of paradise’, oft to typify the cliché of the fiery Latin seductress, immaculately crowned in sumptuous costumes and magnificent jewels. Today, much has been forgotten, or rather, set aside about Montez, perhaps, partly as her ‘acting talents’ left something to be desired, but moreover, as she was to meet with a terrible fate, cresting in her career in 1951; presumed to have succumbed to a heart attack from taking a hot bath. She was only 39. And yet, throughout the 1940’s, Montez proved a salvation for Universal Pictures – struggling to remain in the black, and increasingly to rely on Montez, and the combined efforts of comedians, Bud Abbott and Lou Costello to keep them afloat through some very lean years of operation.

So, the legend goes, Montez was spotted by a talent scout in New York and given a big build-up; her first picture for Uni, 1940’s The Invisible Woman, leading to a lucrative contract at $150 a week. Exploited for her beauty on the backlot, and also loaned out to the competition when token glamour was required, Universal basically equated Montez’s strengths on the marquee to that of MGM’s Hedy Lamarr or Paramount’s Dorothy Lamour. She might have remained a decorous appendage, merely to adorn studio product with her physical charms, except Montez proved a very ardent and shameless self-promoter. Her ‘technique’ to advance her career was hardly original, though nevertheless effective. She acted like a movie star before actually becoming one; making entrances, and vamping/camping it up for the reporters to push her puss into the spotlight. Uni took notice – not of the show - rather, the interest being generated by it, and, decided to graduate Montez to starring roles. They also renewed her contract, doubled her salary and cast her in Arabian Nights (1942); the movie that would make her a star in the public’s estimation. Interesting to reconsider Uni’s faith in Montez now; Arabian Nights, their first picture in 3-strip Technicolor (a costly and still experimental venture), produced by Walter Wanger and co-starring beefcake, Jon Hall whose assets, not unlike Montez, resided with his brawn rather than his brain. The formula proved winning, and was reinstated for White Savage (1943) and Cobra Woman (1944) – all, runaway hits for the studio.

Eager to capitalize on their winning team, which also included Sabu, Universal made ambitious plans for 3 more pictures. Alas, Sabu was drafted into the army shortly thereafter, his part recast with Turhan Bey for Montez’s fourth starring feature: Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. Our story is set in the abrupt aftershock of the Mongolian conquest of Bagdad by Hulagu Khan (Kurt Katch). Having escaped captivity with his young son, Ali (Scotty Beckett), the caliph, Hassan (Moroni Olsen) is plotting to regain control of his empire. While exiled at the palace of Prince Cassim (Frank Puglia), Ali and Cassim's daughter, Amara (Yvette Duguay) betroth themselves in a blood-bond. Betrayed by Cassim, who has cowered to the Mongols, the caliph is massacred. Ali barely escapes, but becomes lost in the desert. There, he encounters a band of riders departing from a hidden cave. Deducing their secret phrase to open its walls, “open sesame”, Ali takes refuge inside and is later discovered by the returning riders, asleep among the various treasures housed inside. Impressed by the boy’s audacity and grit, the leader of the thieves, Old Baba (Fortunio Bonanova), adopts Ali as his son - Ali Baba. Ten years elapse. The thieves have since become renown as resistance fighters, who favor the poor with their plunder taken from the Mongols. Learning of an approaching wedding caravan, bearing riches and a new bride for the Khan to Bagdad, Ali (now played by Jon Hall), and his ‘nanny’, Abdullah (Andy Devine) scout out the entourage for another ambush. Alas, the bride is Cassim’s daughter, Amara (now played by Maria Montez), forced to wed to cement Cassim's uneasy social standing with the Mongols.

Bathing off the dust of the desert in an oasis, Amara is confronted by Ali – neither recognizing the other, at first. Believing her a servant girl, and passing himself off as a weary traveler, Ali learns of the caravan’s purpose; also, deducing it is far more heavily guarded than initially presumed. Regrettably, Ali is taken prisoner for his inquisitiveness, while Abdullah narrowly escapes. Still unaware of her true identity, Ali curses ‘the bride’ as a traitor. Wounded by his allegation, but also having become smitten with this defiant stranger, Amara implores her bodyguard, Jamiel (Turhan Bey), who secretly hero-worships the thieves, to provide Ali with some water for their journey. In Bagdad, Ali is presented to the Khan who fails to recognize him as the leader of the thieves. Nevertheless, he is bound to a pillory for public execution. Meanwhile, Cassim learns of Ali's true identity but keeps it to himself. Having relayed the news to Old Baba and the thieves, Abdullah and his cohorts prepare to invade. Regrettably, Old Baba is mortally wounded.  Meanwhile, Amara is taken prisoner by the thieves and Jamiel frees Ali, who now retreats to Mount Sesame. Unaware of his loyalty to Ali, the thieves take Jamiel prisoner. Soon, however, Ali intervenes on Jamiel’s behalf. Having sworn allegiance to Ali Baba, Jamiel is assigned to deliver a ransom note to the Khan suggesting a trade – Amara for Cassim. However, when Amara suddenly appears in the garden, Ali identifies her as his lost love and affords her, her freedom, much to the chagrin and disdain of his band of men.

To save face, Cassim confesses Ali's true identity to Amara and the Khan. Realizing she could never love another Amara rejects the Khan’s proposal of marriage. To ensure her compliance, Cassim is tortured, and Amara relents.  Meanwhile Jamiel brings this news to Ali, who plots a daring liberation. Posing as a merchant from Basra, Ali arrives with a gift of forty jars of oil. Alas, the plan goes awry when Jameil and Amara discover a servant girl listening in on their conversation. The urchin relays her discovery to Cassim and the Khan who now plots a counter ambush. On the Khan’s wedding day, Ali arrives and is admitted as a guest. As a prelude to the festivities, Ali presents the Khan with his gift, and the Khan, presuming the jars contain the thieves, has his sword dancers plunge their weighty blades through the jars. Miraculously, they contain nothing but sand as Ali has already planned ahead for just such a trap. Infuriated, the Khan murders Cassim and orders Ali's execution. Only now, Jamiel dispatches the thieves, hidden in plain sight as wedding guests, to attack the palace guards. Ali and Amara unbolt the palace gates, allowing the mob outside to overpower the Mongols. The Khan is killed by Abdullah as Jamiel hoists the Arabian flag atop the palace's highest tower to invoke their release from his tyranny.

At once, Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves represents both the beginning and the end of Maria Montez’s supremacy at Universal. Indeed, her ascendance was as swiftly achieved as it proved to be ephemeral. Uni tried to visit the well again, reuniting Montez with John Hall for Gypsy Wildcat (1944), then again for Sudan (1945), in which, ironically, Turhan Bey, not Hall played the love interest. While virtually all of the aforementioned pictures made Uni a lot of money, Montez’s career hit a series of inexplicable snags shortly thereafter, greatly to hasten the end of her screen popularity. A follow-up, also to have co-starred Montez with Hall and Bey - Flame of Stamboul was repeatedly postponed, then canceled. Uni then announced Montez would reunite with Hall, cast as Elisabeth of Austria in The Golden Fleece. But this too was never made; Montez, instead appearing in a pair of economically-made pictures, Follow the Boys, and, Bowery to Broadway (both in 1944). Bored with her typecasting, Montez bucked the studio and was placed on suspension. In the interim, Yvonne De Carlo’s star ascended and Uni let Montez begin to fade away. In 1947, after several loan outs, Montez’s contract with Uni was allowed to expire, and, she sued the studio for billing on her final outing for them. It was the end of the line for Montez – at least, in Hollywood. She retreated to France for the very brief remainder of her professional career and life. During this relatively fallow period of false starts, Montez committed her thoughts to writing books. Her Hollywood ‘comeback’ ended with her premature death, leaving behind an estate of $200,000 (equivalent today to $2 million) to her second husband, Jean-Pierre Aumont and their five-year-old daughter, Tina.

Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves arrives on Blu-ray state’s side via Kino Lorber’s alliance with Universal Home Video. Dirty little secret, the flick has been available in the U.K. from Eureka! for nearly 10 years, and in a beautiful 1080p transfer that, while billed as ‘region B’ locked, was actually ‘region free’. The Kino is ‘region A’ locked, and sports subtler differences when directly compared to its European counterpart. Most noticeable here is color saturation, seemingly more robust on the Kino release. Flesh tones are more finely resolved too, the transfer favoring reds and blues, which tend to pop with a startling amount of clarity. Contrast is also marginally tweaked to the better herein. The Kino image is darker, just enough to offer us true blacks, whereas the Eureka! disc always appeared ever-so-slightly washed out. Best of all – no Technicolor misregistration – which is always an issue with Uni discs, and often, to egregious levels. The DTS 2.0 mono audio is virtually identical on both releases, with crisply resolved dialogue minus age-related hiss and pop.  Kino offers up a new commentary from historian, Phillipa Berry who is thorough in her reflections, not only on the movie, but the private lives of its cast. Good stuff, here. Bottom line: Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves is a time capsule of picture-making, when escapist fantasies were king at the box office and the sumptuousness of the image itself – in blazing Technicolor – was enough to anesthetize audiences into forgetting that the acting put forth herein was not always as stellar as the production values being lavished on such mindlessly enjoyable fluff. Recommended, as a badly needed respite from the cares of today's world.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

3

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

1