Movie reviews: Despite masterful storytelling, 'Three Thousand Years of Longing' lacks passion

This image released by Metro Goldwyn Mayer Pictures shows Tilda Swinton in "Three Thousand Years of Longing." (Elise Lockwood/Metro Goldwyn Mayer Pictures via AP)

THREE THOUSAND YEARS OF LONGING: 3 STARS

George Miller may be best known as a director of wild, action movies, but at the heart of all his films -- whether it is the outback opera of his “Mad Max” series, the gentle inspiration of “Babe: Pig in the City,” or the fantasy of “The Witches of Eastwick” -- is masterful storytelling.

His latest movie, “Three Thousand Years of Longing,” starring Idris Elba and Tilda Swinton, celebrates the art of storytelling with a tale about how a well told story can bring people together.

Swinton plays Alithea Binnie, a lonely professor of narratology. “I am a solitary creature by nature,” she says. “I have no children, or siblings, nor parents. I did once have a husband.” Her work has left her wondering about the importance of mythology in the age of technology. “Sooner or later, our creation stories are replaced by science," she says.

Her compartmentalized and orderly life is turned upside down when she buys a memento at the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. “Whatever it is,” she says of her purchase -- a small decorative glass bottle shaped like a genie’s lamp, “I’m sure it has an interesting story.”

Make that stories. Within are a multitude of stories. And a genie.

When Alithea opens the bottle, she unleashes a cloud of iridescent smoke. The Djinn (Elba), a magical character imprisoned by King Solomon (Nicolas Mouawad) inside the bottle for 3,000 years because he “cried out my heart’s desire,” appears. His only path to true freedom comes with granting Alithea’s wishes, based on her three deepest yearnings.

Alithea’s study of ancient myths has left her wary of accepting the Djinn’s offer. “I cannot for the life of me, summon up one eligible wish, let alone three,” she says.

Nonetheless, the Djinn regales her with stories from his life, Scheherazade style, in an attempt to lure her into making a wish.

Based on the short story “The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye” by A.S. Byatt, and co-written for the screen by Miller, “Three Thousand Years of Longing,” has much of the director’s visual flair, and rock-solid performances from Swinton and Elba, but this fairy tale about the importance of stories and romance doesn’t contain the magic promised by its premise.

There is sentimentalism to burn in the Djinn’s retelling of the great loves of his life and how his “fondness for the conversation with women” has kept him bottled up, literally, for millennia, but this often feels like an academic exercise. His stories reveal an appealing vulnerability in the mysterious creature’s personality, but instead of being swept away by the spectacle of the storytelling into worlds of romance, we’re left waiting for the emotional impact, which is delayed and, even then, muted. It’s all allegory with not enough passion.

“Three Thousand Years of Longing” has undeniably cool moments, most likely conjured up in Miller’s fevered imagination. King Solomon’s magical, self-playing stringed instrument is wondrous, and the period details contained in the flashback from the Djinn’s life are beautifully rendered, despite some dodgy CGI. But, unlike the great stories it celebrates, the movie doesn’t have the kind of tension between the leads necessary to create a compelling narrative.

SAMARITAN: 2 ½ STARS

There was a time when, to be a hero, all Sylvester Stallone had to do was go a few rounds with Ivan Drago.

How times have changed.

In “Samaritan,” Stallone is a hero of the super variety. He has exceptional strength -- he is able to jump through walls, bound over lakes of fire and absorb high octane gun fire.

He even has a catchphrase, “Have a blast,” but a Marvel movie, this ain’t.

“Samaritan” is the kind of off-brand superhero flick that used to decorate the shelves at Blockbuster. These days, you’ll find it streaming on Amazon Prime.

Set in Granite City, the movie takes place 25 years after the city’s protector, Samaritan, disappeared in the wake of the fight with his enemy, Nemesis, opening the door for baddies like Cyrus (Pilou Asbæk), who could pass for a “Lost Boys” era Kiefer Sutherland, and his gang of ultraviolent goons to take over.

Imagine “The Warriors,” but with masked heroes and supervillains.

Unemployment and poverty are on the rise. “It’s only a matter of time until the city implodes,” screams one newscast.

Granite City is also home to teenager Sam (Javon 'Wanna' Walton), described by his single mom (Dascha Polanco) as “good, but a little lost.” Sam is obsessed with the story of Samaritan, and is convinced his neighbour, a garbage man named Joe Smith (Stallone), is the superhero in hiding.

Joe denies any connection to the missing crime fighter. “Samaritan is dead,” he grunts. “I just pick up garbage.” But when Sam witnesses Joe survive almost getting snapped in half by a brutal car attack, he is more convinced than ever that his neighbour has special powers.

Over time, a father-son bond develops between them and when Cyrus calls for a violent revolution—actually just rioting and looting—Sam pleads with Joe, “You’re the only one who can help.”

Question is, will Joe be able to clean the streets of crime or just pick up trash?

“Samaritan” has a distinct, early 90s feel. There is an undeniable nostalgic rush to the movie’s low-tech effects, villains who cackle with glee at every evil deed and a city-on-the-edge vibe. It’s the stuff of George H. W. Bush era direct to video flicks, and put me in the mind of the days when I watched movies, rented for a day or two, on rickety old videotapes.

That being aid, “Samaritan” is set-your-expectations-low enjoyable. It is a hoot to hear Stallone explain the biometrics of his superhero body, and even as a lumbering superhero who eats his morning cereal with apple juice and is afraid to jump off a building out of concern for his knees, the man formerly known as Rocky is fun watch.

THE INVITATION: 2 STARS

Everybody needs somebody to love. I mean, c’mon, even Dracula had a girlfriend. The Count’s bloodsucking “brides” provide the inspiration for a contemporary horror film called “The Invitation,” now playing in theatres. It’s the story of vampires and a wedding invite the main character Evie (Nathalie Emmanuel) should have declined.

When we first meet Evie, she is a struggling New York City artist and cater waiter mourning the loss of her mother. "It was always just my mom and me,” she says. “To have a family, that's what I really want." To that end she does a DNA test to see if she can shake any long-lost relatives out of the family tree. To her surprise she discovers Oliver (Hugh Skinner), an English cousin, and wouldn’t you know it, he’s going to be in New York the following week.

Over dinner she tells him that her mother always wanted to take her to England to learn about their family history.

“There’s a wedding coming up. You should come. Everyone is dying to meet you,” he says in a funny bit of foreshadowing.

Turns out the extended family lives in a house that makes Downton Abbey look like a dump. Presided over by the aristocratic “Rockefeller rich” Walter (Thomas Doherty), it is the picture of lavish English countryside life. “Welcome to the new Carfax Abbey,” says cousin Oliver.

Underneath the perfectly manicured lawns, and the starched suits of the maids and footmen, however, are deadly secrets. As the wedding day approaches, Evie’s questions about the whereabouts of the bride and groom are brushed off with vague responses. “The groom and the bride will make their grand entrance tomorrow,” she is told.

On the day, Evie learns too late that she isn’t just a guest at the wedding.

“To Evie,” says Walter proposing a toast on the wedding night, “my new bride.”

Set amid the Abbey’s gothic architecture, what begins as a fish out of water story quickly turns sinister as the things that go bump in the night start bumping but don’t expect much more than a few carefully crafted jump scares. Director Jessica M. Thompson keeps the horror strictly for folks who thought “Twilight” was the best vampire movie ever.

That’s not to say there isn’t a well-staged scene or two in “The Invitation,” but when the best scene in a vampire romance is a sequence where the lead gets a manicure, it suggests deficits in the horror department.

Perhaps it’s because the trailer for “The Invitation” gives away very major plot point, or perhaps it’s because there are no real surprises in the story, but, either way, this is one bloodless vampire tale.