Three Thousand Years of Longing tells heady stories of fantasy, love and tragedy

If you love a good yarn – or better yet, if you like many good yarns – sit back and let George Miller spin you one.

What are movies if not another spoke in the grand tradition of storytelling?

We sit entranced in a cinema, eyes locked on the screen, embraced by a story that will either journey us to somewhere different, or resonate on a personal level. It helps us make sense of our lives and the world.

George Miller’s Three Thousand Years of Longing is steeped in the same love of a great yarn.

The sumptuous tale is framed on Tilda Swinton’s Alithea, a narratologist attending a conference in Istanbul. After passing out on stage due to – all of things – visions of supernatural beings, she and a colleague peruse the city’s bazaars.

In a small shop packed with trinkets, she picks up a fire-damaged blue glass bottle. There’s something about it, she’s drawn to it. Back in her hotel room, as she’s trying to clean the vessel, the topper flies off and the room is filled with swirling purple smoke and then … a djinn.

Three Thousand Years of Longing was filmed in Sydney.

The djinn (Idris Elba), that’s a genie to anyone who grew up on Aladdin, does what djinns are wont to do – offer Alithea three wishes to fulfil her heart’s greatest desires.

A scholar of stories, Alithea has an inkling or two about how the fables of magical wish fulfilment normally goes and resists. She’s also convinced herself she’s content on her own and desires nothing more. She also doesn’t want to upset the equilibrium of her life.

But the djinn can’t ascend unless he grants Alithea her three wishes, so he starts to tell her the stories of his past masters, and the drama of why he has never fulfilled his purpose.

These stories are where Miller’s film leaps to life. They’re evocative, heady yarns of fantasy, magic, mischief, love, malice and tragedy.

Three Thousand Years of Longing’s flashback stories are evocative and rich.

The first takes place in the court of the Queen of Sheba, where the djinn is thwarted by a possessive King Solomon. Another story finds the djinn in service to a love-sick concubine during the Ottoman Empire. In the third, he’s discovered by the unhappy wife of a merchant, self-imprisoned in the attic with her unquenchable thirst for ideas and knowledge.

These vivid forays into different worlds is Three Thousand Years of Longing at its peak. It’s like being transported back to your childhood and the most gifted storyteller is in front of you, captivated by their tales, their abilities to spin the greatest yarn as if nothing outside of that story can exist.

Miller’s prodigious filmmaking skills in getting you to lose yourself in his work is at full power here. The rich production design, the brilliant costumes and the dynamic energy of each vignette makes for an exhilarating experience.

Three Thousand Years of Longing is in cinemas now.

Where Three Thousand Years of Longing slips is in the framing story. No slight on Swinton or Elba’s performances, but the final act feels rushed, and the connection between those wonderful tales and the overarching story feels tenuous.

There’s an incompleteness in the transition back into the story of Alithea and the djinn, which slows down the kineticism built up by the earlier part of the film.

Still, Three Thousand Years of Longing has much to recommend it and anyone who loves a good story will appreciate Miller’s ability to tell not one but many.

Rating: 3.5/5

Three Thousand Years of Longing is in cinemas now