Arabian nights

Sometimes dreams are bad teachers
because one dream does not tell the whole story
The truth lies in many dreams.

Arabian Nights is a film by Pier Paulo Pasolini that tells many stories and one story of a slave girl who becomes a queen, laughing all the while. It’s a part of the Trilogy Of Life. The Wikipedia entry on Pasolini only refers to the film as one of the “later movies centered on sex-laden folklore, such as Il fiore delle mille una notte (Arabian Nights, 1974)” which reminds me of the similarly ludicrous (but at least intentionally so) entry on Earth in the Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy as “mostly harmless”: “sex laden” reveals the author’s attitudes surely – sex is a frequent part of the film, but each time it’s a natural part of proceedings, there’s nothing lascivious or voyeuristic about its treatment. “Folklore” too seems dismissive: each tale is related directly without comment or interpretation, we are left to make our own sense of the meaning of each event. Arabian Nights reminds this viewer that there are other lives, other possibilities. It’s utterly beautiful and recounts its interwoven tales with a refreshing lack of guile. I haven’t seen a film like this in a long time (have I ever seen a film like this?) It reminds me of the storytelling of Don Quixote. I wonder whether Mati Klarwein loved this film, I wonder whether Jon Hassell does.