SON OF ALI BABA: Blu-ray (Universal-International, 1952) Kino Lorber

A physically agile, Tony Curtis and pleasant enough, Piper Laurie reunite in Kurt Newman’s lavishly appointed Arabian fantasy/adventure, Son of Ali Baba (1952) – a Technicolor feast, also to showcase the formidable talents of Hugh O’Brien as Hussein, the ruggedly handsome adversary; O’Brien, later going on to achieve immortality on the small screen in TV’s The Life and Times of Wyatt Earp (ABC, 1955-61). O’Brien’s strictly disciplined military school training (the youngest drill instructor in the history of the Marine Corps) came in handy for the role of the athletically robust and square-jawed Hussein. Yet, despite being voted by the Hollywood Foreign Press as the ‘most promising male newcomer of 1953’, O’Brien quickly found himself being relegated as token background fodder in pictures featuring ‘bigger’ stars, barely visible, as example, as Mitzi Gaynor’s love interest in There's No Business Like Show Business (1954). Television filled that gap rather nicely, and, put O’Brien’s fame on the map. Alas, his infrequent returns to the movies proved disappointing.  As for our stars; Tony Curtis – born, Bernard Schwartz – emerged as one of Hollywood’s most amiable and enduring heartthrobs, exuding an immediately likable ‘star’ presence that could adjust to both comedy and drama. Half of Hollywood’s power-brokering young marrieds (the other fifty-percent belonging to Janet Leigh), Curtis’ youth was dark and foreboding. His mother, a schizophrenic, frequently terrorized the children, and Curtis, and his brothers, Julius and Robert were eventually bounced around orphanages. The loss of Julius in 1938 (in which Curtis was called in to identify the body) greatly impacting the young man’s resolve to escape from his extreme impoverished circumstances. A stint in the navy during WWII led to Curtis being ‘discovered’ by David O. Selznick’s niece, Joyce – an agent in the business.

A name change – first to James, then Anthony, and finally Tony – led to a long-term contract with Universal, cast in mostly forgettable fluff until Anthony Mann’s Winchester '73 (1950). A year later, Curtis and Leigh were wed. Yet, real/reel stardom somehow eluded Curtis until 1953’s Houdini. And although gossip columns of the day suggested something ‘queer’ about the couple’s marital arrangement, Curtis and Leigh went on to have two daughters – the latter, Jamie Lee, since proven one of the industry’s heavy hitters. Son of Ali Baba is typical of the way the studio and the critics initially viewed Curtis’ talents – limited, so they collectively agreed, to his raven-haired studliness as the male sex bomb, to appear bronzed and shirtless in at least one or two scenes, and otherwise in half undone period costumes as the hearty, swashbuckling Lochinvar. In reputation, at least, co-star, Piper Laurie similarly endured the indignation of producers bent to remake her formidable talents over as a Hollywood sex pot. Laurie and Curtis had been teamed together the year before in Universal-International’s The Prince Who Was A Thief (1951), and, would follow up the even bigger success of Son of Ali Baba, with 1952’s No Room for the Groom, and finally, 1954’s Johnny Dark – meant to capitalize on their screen chemistry, but instead putting a distinct period to their teaming.  Like Curtis, Laurie, born Rosetta Jacobs, would go on to illustrate her ability in deeply involved and tender performances, often playing ruthless women in movies like, The Hustler (1961), Carrie (1976) and The Bunker (1981). But at age 17, Laurie was plucked from drama school and signed to a Universal contract with some trepidation; her fears, realized when the studio chronically cast her as the doe-eyed and perky ingénue. Building her reputation as a more accomplished actress elsewhere, she was drawn to the more complex and uncompromising parts, allowing her genuineness to shine. Uni’s gristmill of disposable comedies and dramas lacked the substance Laurie craved, but they elevated her stature in the picture-making biz as a viable commodity to be pre-sold. Of these mostly disposable outings, Son of Ali Baba is a particular high point. It also proved the straw to break the proverbial ‘camel’s back’ – Laurie, walking out on her ironclad contract – perfectly timed with the implosion of the studio system, thus allowing her to segue into even greater renown on the New York stage.

In retrospect, Son of Ali Baba arrived in theaters at the tail end of audiences’ fascination with Middle-Eastern fantasy/adventures, originally assigned to producer, Jack Gross and screenwriter, Ed Earl Repp. Ironically, only Gerald Drayson Adams received screen credit for penning this lumbering romance, although much of Repp’s earlier draft remains in the finished film. The production also lost its original director, Budd Boetticher, replaced by Kurt Neumann so Boetticher could direct Bronco Busters (1952). If Son of Ali Baba is remembered at all today, it is for an oft misquoted line of dialogue, presumably uttered by Tony Curtis in his inimitable Brooklyn-born accent.  Time and memory have discolored the quote and its reading, “In yonda valley lies da castle of my fadda.” What Curtis actually says is “This is my father's palace, and yonder lies the Valley of the Sun” without any mispronounced embellishment. And, if Son of Ali Baba is destined never to win any awards for originality or, in fact, artistry, it nevertheless expertly typifies and defines a certain ancient relic of the old regime, as well as Hollywood’s affinity for gargantuan and grandly escapist Technicolor fluff - so readily to permeate the market during the war, and valiantly trudged onward after it to become its own cliché. Purely as a time capsule, this movie is a hoot – with Maury Gertsman’s exquisite cinematography, Herman Stein’s score, Bernard Herzbrun/Emrich Nicholson’s production design, and, Rosemary Odell’s sumptuous costuming doing the real heavy lifting. The uber-gloss of Son of Ali Baba is what sets it apart as a big and bloated ‘prestige’ picture for Universal – a kind of exquisite uber-glamorous, crowd-pleaser, ideally suited for the Saturday matinee. It’s just a lot of silly, wholesome hokum. Don’t look beyond its surface sheen and you are in for one hell of a grand show.  

So, the story goes, in ancient Bagdad, the reputation of Ali Baba (Morris Ankrum), a retired Middle Eastern Robin Hood, places his vigorous son, Kashma (Tony Curtis) under the scrutiny of his peers, but also in the Imperial Army. Military life agrees with Kashma, who proves his merits and quickly ascends to the upper echelons of his cadet class. Hence, he is the envy of his regiment. At his birthday celebration, attended by good friend, Mustapha (William Reynolds), a cohort of robust cadets, and, many a buxom harem girl, Kashma’s rival, Hussein, son of the wicked Caliph, jealously pulls a knife on the guest of honor. And although Kashma valiantly defends his honor, his friends rush to his aid, humiliating Hussein by tossing him and two of his protectors into a nearby reflecting pool. The next afternoon, as Kashma has yet to recover from the previous night’s bacchanal, Kiki (Piper Laurie) a girl who claims to be a dancer, and, Rama, her evil troupe leader, break into Kashma's estate. Taken with the girl’s beauty, Kashma allows Kiki to remain at his pleasure, unaware she is giving signals to a hidden spy, plotting with the Caliph (Victor Jory). That night, Kashma's devoted servant, Babu (Leon Belasco) informs his master of the deception. Confronted with the truth, Kiki confesses to being a handmaiden of the Princess Azura of Morocco, taken against her will to be sold into an arranged marriage with the Shah (Georges Renavent). Concerned his concealment of Kiki might brand him a traitor – resulting in death – Kashma cannot resist the girl’s charms and hurries her away to her father’s palace.  Alas, the Caliph's guards arrive, and, discovering a handkerchief bearing the crest of the Moroccan monarchy, immediately arrest Mustapha for allowing Kiki to escape. While escorting Mustapha to the dungeon, the cadet's captain, Youssef (Gerald Mohr), allows for his clumsy escape to warn Ali Baba of the Caliph’s pending plot to invade.

Kashma introduces Kiki to his childhood friend, Tala (Susan Cabot), an accomplished archer. He also informs his father he is madly in love with Kiki. Alas, after Mustapha reveals Kiki’s secret, Kashma, deeply wounded by her betrayal, rebukes her for deliberately endangering all of their lives. Kashma, Tala and Mustapha escort Kiki into the hills to protect her. Moments later, the Caliph and his invaders plunder the palace for treasure; Ali Baba, wisely to deduce the threats made were never about the princess, only his riches. Realizing too late Kiki has been spying for the Caliph, Kashma rushes home, discovering the Caliph’s men already torching his father’s estate. Hussein and Kashma engage in a clash of swords as all around them the palace burns. After Kashma is knocked unconscious by Hussein, who flees as the flames engulf, Kiki rushes to drag Kashma to safety. She begs his understanding. The Caliph forced her hand under threat to harm her imprisoned mother, Princess Karma (Katherine Warren). But this proves one too many betrayals for Kashma to accept. Instead, with Tala and Mustapha’s help, Kashma leads the local villagers in a revolt against Hussein and his men, who have thus decimated their lands. The Caliph lies to the Shah about having murdered Ali Baba for trying to make off with the princess. But Kashma leads his rebels to the dungeon where he liberates both his father and Princess Karma. Tala mortally wounds the Caliph with her arrow and Hussein orders his men to kill Kashma. Meanwhile, Kiki eludes the harem girls assigned to guard her and inspires Youssef to lead his loyal cadets in a revolt on the palace. They arrive in time to back up Kashma’s rebels. Hussein flees, but is engaged by Kashma in a duel to end with Hussein’s death. The Shah, having renewed his faith in Ali Baba, appoints Youssef as the new Caliph. Princess Karma gives her blessing for Kashma and Kiki to wed.

Son of Ali Baba is an escapist yarn, fancifully concocted, yet only partly successful in its endeavors. The fault herein lies in the screenplay. This sets up an interesting premise for palace intrigues, but then almost immediately jettisons all of it to favor Kashma and Kiki’s soppy love story. Rather transparently hoping to capitalize on the Curtis/Laurie sexual chemistry derived from their previous box office success in The Prince Who Was a Thief, even at just barely 78 minutes, Son of Ali Baba makes just about every misfire a gaudy costume epic can and still get away with being considered marginally enjoyable, as just another romp through Hollywood’s fantasized landscape of Kismet-inspired exotica. Joyfully obtuse and colorful to boot, Son of Ali Baba is a time-capsule into an entirely ‘other’ era in Hollywood history – one, in which the ground beneath the old moguls and their empires was about to suddenly shift – and not in their favor – before turning completely to quicksand. Viewed today, Son of Ali Baba is still a fun little movie on its own merits – or lack thereof; its biggest selling point, the sight of a youthful and vigorous Tony Curtis, swashbuckling his way to freedom in flouncy shirts and pleated pants, or – even better for the female patrons – naked from the waist up, plying his taut musculature to the craft of being every young lass’ beefcake du jour. Time would eventually prove Tony’s talent lay more squarely situated in his deft ability to effortlessly toggle between drama and comedy – the dexterity of his acting chops on full display in movies like Some Like It Hot (1959) and The Boston Strangler (1968), where he completely rewrote the rules of his screen persona as the notorious serial killer, Albert DeSalvo.

Son of Ali Baba arrives on Blu-ray via Kino Lorber’s alliance with Universal Home Video; Uni’s way of dumping as much of their back catalog on the hi-def market, but with minimal to no effort applied. Son of Ali Baba is awash in Technicolor mis-registration, so egregious in spots that, when projected, the image becomes virtually unwatchable. It’s the blue record here that is out of whack, creating disturbing halos so out of focus, whole portions of the image appear as though to have been photographed in 3D without the aid of the color-corrective glasses. Honestly, what is the point to releasing any Technicolor movie to any home video format, but especially hi-def, without performing the necessary clean-up and realignment? In its present state, Son of Ali Baba is a thoroughly frustrating experience to view. From one shot to the next, the Technicolor either snaps perfectly into crisply resolved and sparkling images, or falls apart with horrendous halos creating abysmally out of focus images. Clearly derived from elements struck with little care, this is a complete failure as far as I am concerned, and one for which Kino ought to put its foot down as distributor and insist on better quality digital files to slap to disc. The DTS 1.0 mono audio is adequate for this presentation. Kino has shelled out for a rather meandering audio commentary from Lee Gambin who, even in this meager run time, struggles for something meaningful to say. We also get trailers for the other Kino/Uni releases, similarly themed and varying in quality. Bottom line: not recommended!

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

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

1

EXTRAS

1