Cannes Review: “Arabian Nights Volume 2: The Desolate One”

After seeing the packed narratives within narratives of part one, Arabian Nights Volume 2: The Desolate One seems, as Miguel Gomes himself suggested, a very different film, connected to the first by the framing device, theme and some of the performers (assuming different roles in the new installment) rather than through narrative continuation. It limits itself to three stories (though with ramifications) and keeps our storyteller Scheherazada off-screen.

Chronicle of the Escape of Simão “Without Bowels” assumes the form of an arthouse western, showing us an apparently unremarkable old man (Chico Chapas) while at the same time telling us through voice-over that he’s an escapee and living legend. Of course, since this is a Gomes film, the day-in-the-life-of episode is far from straightforward – even if its plot sets expectations pretty low. When the police capture him (without encountering any resistance) and he’s taken away by a large official escort, the exaggerated security they place around him works as a punchline.

The Tears of the Judge recounts a trial in a small community, overseen by a very open-minded – if sometimes incredibly blunt – female judge (Luísa Cruz). It all starts with two tenants, a mother and son, who sell their landlord’s furniture to pay for their own expenses. This in turn reveals more about the son’s marriage, the landlord’s treatment of his tenants, his personal oddities and more. Soon enough the network of misdemeanors involves an otherworldly spirit, the medical system, villains with tribal masks, and a man with thirteen Chinese mistresses. It’s a fable about the complexity of seeing others clearly, but one that relies more on imagination and surprising details than workaday moral revolt. It’s also a visually surreal open-air night sequence, with characters taking the floor or disappearing into the background, masterfully held together by Thai director of photography (and Apichatpong Weerasethakul collaborator) Sayombhu Mukdeeprom.

The third and lightest episode, The Owners of Dixie, follows a small white dog as it changes owners within a poor neighborhood. A framing device within a framing device, the transfer of the dog to a new family allows again for more ethnographic information than would be supported by a more streamlined film. No story can keep a grim tone when it revolves around an animal (not even Robert Bresson’s disillusioned Christian film Au hasard Balthazar), but it’s still more than a gimmick. Psychologically complex reactions and subtle differences of social status are all brought into light by the presence of Dixie (and a quasi-identical ghost). Volume 2 is easily the most immediately pleasing part of the trilogy, although it obviously needs the context of the other two films.

For our review of Arabian Nights Volume 3, click here.