No one could accuse writer and director Julia Jackman of lacking ambition. His second feature, shot with the visual art and deadpan drollery of Wes Anderson or Yorgos Lanthimos, is based on a graphic novel that reinterprets One Thousand and One Nights as a strange tale about a regime that suppresses women’s education in worship of a cruel, bird-like idol, narrated by the star Char. XCX. As much as it sounds like a hotchpotch of conflicting ideas and influences, it is 90 minutes Jackman miraculously manages to weave these disparate threads into a fictional, funny and truly touching tale of queer woman liberation.
After just a touch of table setting that includes a Richard E. Grant cameo as the god known as Birdman, we are thrust into an unnamed kingdom where women are forbidden to read or write. Rather it resembles an Elizabethan acid trip, all dark wood panels, ruffs, pearls and puff sleeves illuminated by psychedelic shafts of purple light. Think about it Favorite or the first stages of Orlando but set to a twinkly synth effect.
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Noblewoman Cherry (Maika Monroe) must find an heir or be sentenced to be hanged by the Beak Brothers, a religious order that makes the Spanish Inquisition look decent. But her husband Jerome (Amir El-Masry) won’t end their marriage, and her devoted, enigmatic maid (pixie-like Emma Corrin) is her only friend.
Unwittingly, Jerome and the villainous king Manfred (Nicholas Galitzine) make a bet that in Jerome’s absence, Manfred will be able to seduce a sexually frustrated Cherry within a hundred nights. Galitzine is the sweet treat here as this tricky but not-so-bright communicator, offering a broad, even exaggerated version of his performance as Jacobe’s ascendant last year. HBO series Mary and George.
Corrin and Monroe, who have great chemistry, wisely play it straighter (ahem) than Galitzine. Their passionate chess game begins; the secret seal between them caused the Hero to thwart Manfred’s romantic advances by reciprocating each of those hundred nights’ tales. This legend lives on in beautiful, Pre-Raphaelite-esque images, like pop It Girl Charli XCX plays one of three sisters who resist the patriarchy’s conquest with their secret reading knowledge. But should Cherry indulge in the sin of pleasure by sleeping with Manfred, thus finding an heir and saving her life? Or will he be killed regardless of his betrayal? It is quite a serious situation.
As long-winded and knotty as this all sounds, the story moves along at a brisk pace, without a dull moment. Jackman deftly weaves together multiple narrative threads and indulges (admirably) in woozy, dreamlike visuals and sound, as if the story of Cherry and the Hero is part of a long line of rebellious women’s tales that echo across generations. He strikes a tricky tonal balance of sincerity and humor, intimacy and epic fantasy, culminating in a different kind of saccharine sweet but never ending happily ever after.
