THE SINBAD TRILOGY (2015-16)

 

PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *metaphysical*

As the dates cited for this "Sinbad Trilogy" should clarify, I'm not referencing the Sinbad movies of the esteemed Ray Harryhausen. I think there is a portmanteau name for this film-series in the original Japanese, but I couldn't find an English translation for that name; hence "the Sinbad trilogy."

I've seen no other works from Nippon Animation, the principal Japanese studio that produced the Trilogy, but their Wikipedia writeup asserts that, unlike many other Japanese animation units, Nippon has always concentrated on family-friendly fare. The Trilogy-- consisting of three hour-long movies that are more like episodes of a teleseries-- has almost no intimations of sexuality on the part of its male star Sinbad or his female co-star Sana, both of whom look to be about thirteen years old. The dominant aesthetic of kid-friendly graphics put me somewhat in the mind of Herge's TINTIN, but transplanted into an Arabian Nights fantasia.

The Trilogy owes very little to the Sinbad tales in the Thousand and One Nights. Nevertheless, the writers of these interlinked films manage to capture the same approach of the Oriental stories, in which the inhabitants of a vaguely medieval Arabic world find themselves constantly encountering incredible marvels. This juvenile Sinbad, for example, lives with his mother, aspiring to go to sea someday like his father, even though his sire disappeared on his last voyage. Sinbad is at first refused to join the crew of one Captain Razzak because of the boy's tender years. However, when he defends a young girl named Sana in the city-streets from the attack of men on flying carpets, Razzak takes Sinbad under his wing, Later, Sana chances upon the vessel at sea, after which Razzak pretty much puts all regular business on hold in order to take Sana back to her people.

Sana, the daughter of an island of sorcerers, is the perfect medium that allows the youth (along with comedy-relief sidekick Ali) to continually encounter countless wonder-works: a flying wooden horse, a magic lamp, giant pachyderms, a cyclops, water horses, and, of course, the villains who brought about the fall of Sana's people, the evil Galip and his toady Daal (first seen as one of the carpet-riders who attacks Sana early in the film).

Just as Ray Harryhausen's films are often slackly plotted to allow for a panoply of wonders, there's not a strong plot in the Trilogy either. Somehow Sana was exiled from her people, and she has to get back to them, even if that means she and Sinbad may be separated from one another. The relationship of Sinbad and Sana is never romantic as such, though the girl-boy dynamic isn't entirely absent. The first film is the strongest in that it sets up all subsequent action, while the second (which focuses on the magic lamp, though it has precious little impact on the story) is weaker. The third and last movie builds up the idea of the paradise-like culture of Sana's parents, who combined the rigor of science with the charms of magic in some fashion, but this blessed union is ruined by the ambitions of Galip and his minions. Yet even though Galip is poised as a danger to world peace, his threat seems amorphous at best. In the end, once Sana has returned to his people, Sinbad goes back home. There's a suggestion that he might seek out his father some day, but the matter never comes up, though strangely his buddy Ali conveniently learns that his captain is also his lost daddy. 

Since Sinbad and Sana are not fighters, the Trilogy falls under my heading of subcombative adventure. The focus is never on the ostensible conflict, but on the parade of wonders that Sinbad beholds, and this production certainly captures the mood of Arabic fantasy better than any comparable works from American studios.