And what are your three wishes? Genies, djinns, shrouded in the inherent mystique of their own being, make for fascinating centerpieces in tales. Ancient and wizened, with magic expelling from their human-like fingertips, genies are gods and prisoners alike. Depending on the story in question, there tend to be minimal limits to their awesome powers, but their omnipotence comes at the cost of their own freedom. Although they’re mythological beings from ancient beliefs, there’s something timeless about a good genie story; really, genies have been showing up in various forms of art and entertainment since at least the publication of the text One Thousand and One Nights—and the centuries-old tales that make it up—and, thanks to contemporary popular culture, genies have become a universally recognized piece of folklore. Genies have since shown up in everything from one of the greatest comedic episodes of The Twilight Zone to George Miller’s latest picture. From here, we’ll be taking a journey across time and space to look at cinema’s best genies and the actors that portray them, from Robin Williams to Idris Elba. Remember, even if no two genies are the same, always, always, be careful what you ask them for.
Forget about the live-action remake. Any ‘90s kid, Disney purist, or person with respectable taste will tell you that the 1992 animated classic cannot be surpassed. Taking heavy inspiration from the story “Aladdin and the Magic Lamp” from One Thousand and One Nights, Aladdin features one of the most memorable genies...and one of the greatest comedic voice-acting performances, period. Really, it’s a role that Robin Williams was born to play. As Genie, the late, great comedian gives a masterclass on voice acting excellence, spitting out motor-mouthed dialogue, ad-libbed quips, and hilarious one-liners without taking a breath.
Aladdin’s Genie is a kind-hearted, lovable, and endlessly quotable djinn that essentially makes the movie as memorable as it is. Sure, there's the lush, colorful animation and the fantastic musical numbers, but Genie—and Williams’s iconic voice performance—work to elevate the film to a timeless classic. This big boy of blue is a true sweetheart, and his sheer joy while celebrating his newfound freedom is arguably the film’s most beautiful moment. Plus, he’s the only genie that taught us all a valuable lesson: “10,000 years will give you such a crick in the neck!”
Barbara Eden glistens with effervescent charm as the title character in I Dream of Jeannie. Jeannie proved that not all genies have to be massive, shirtless, masculine figures with pecs and pointy ears—they could be blonde-haired women, too! After 2,000 years of being stuck in a bottle, Jeannie’s ready to mingle, and upon her release, she falls immediately in love with her rescuer, astronaut Captain Anthony Nelson (Larry Hagman). Over the course of five sweet seasons, Jeannie is loving and protective of her “master” Tony, but she’s also quick to disregard what he says and use her powers as she chooses.
Occasionally bratty and impulsive, Jeannie’s chock-full of good intentions and a pure heart (“I cannot tell thee how much happiness thou has brought to me,” she says tenderly to Tony). What else do you need to know? Jeannie is the type of genie you’d want in your corner when your chips are down. Her arm-cross to head-bob, which can grant any wish and conjure anything out of nothing, is a crucial bit of ‘60s sitcom culture, and Jeannie herself has become an inimitable television icon. And good luck trying to get that theme song out of your head.
Hear me out: there's a whole lot to love about Kazaam, namely the fact that NBA MVP Shaquille O'Neal lends his towering 7'1" physique and his natural charisma to the title character, a hip, rhyming genie freed from his imprisonment in a magical boombox. Before long, Kazaam steps in as a sort of stand-in stepfather figure to Max (Francis Capra), a 12-year-old boy whose strained relationship with his father (James Acheson) causes him much emotional turmoil. With a seemingly indelible grin on his face, Shazaam can't help but try to impress his young master, whether it be through his extravagant powers or his rhyming skills.
It's kind of incredible how skilfully Shaq carries this movie through his performance as Kazaam. Like, really, it's a completely preposterous premise, but Shaq, a natural star, is magnetic. He's comfortable indulging in childish silliness, throwing himself into goofy slapstick gags, and donning a vast array of drip sets, from cartoonish purple chiffon and pointed djinn shoes to a crisp '90s windbreaker. Hey, listen, there's no such thing as a Sinbad-starring genie movie called Shazaam, no matter how badly you want to believe it. There never was such a movie, and there probably never will be, so we'll all just have to settle for Kazaam and all its Shaq-attack glory. When all's said and done, Kazaam may not be one of the great genie movies, but Kazaam is undeniably one of the great movie genies.
At the center of the fantasy-tinged screwball comedy, The Brass Bottle, is Fakrash (Burl Ives), a jolly and congenial genie filled with so much gratitude for his master that he absolutely has to find ways to show it. Of course, being trapped in a brass bottle for 2,000 years makes for some serious culture shock and Fakrash is the proverbial fish-out-of-water in contemporary society. His old-school wisdom is a bit lost in translation, and as he bumbles one "gift" to the next, he's liable to make quite the spectacle of it.
Ives is an absolute presence as Fakrash, as the actor throws himself completely into the character. With his centuries-old costume, he prances about the modern workplace, speaking in outdated dialects and having a grand time doing it. It's no surprise that such a quirky little flick would go on to inspire I Dream of Jeannie—it even features Barbara Eden in the non-magical role of Harold's fiancee Sylvia! It's a silly movie that is given much more comedic power by Ives's Fakrash.
The Thief of Bagdad is an extravagant Technicolor adventure film featuring some lavish hand-crafted sets and game-changing special effects. It’s the story of Sultan Ahmad (JohnJustin) as he attempts to rescue his love (JunneDuprez) from the calculating Vizier Jaffar (ConradVeidt). Near the end of the movie’s second act, when the titular thief Abu (Sabu) gets stranded on a remote island, he discovers a lamp and accidentally unleashes a powerful Djinn (RexIngram). Appearing from a shroud of black smoke, the Djinn cackles with thunderous laughter, threatening to crush Abu under his gargantuan feet (and grotesquely unkempt toenails) simply for the fun of it. He’s an intimidating force that knows his power and loves to flaunt it because he can.
Although the Djinn features in a minimal amount of the film’s runtime, the fellow plays a pivotal role in the story and makes a powerful impression while doing it. Maybe he’s only actually on screen for ten-ish minutes or so, but take a look at the film’s poster...or the intricately designed cover of the Criterion Collection edition of the film. Who’s that front and center, monopolizing the majority of the space? Of course, it’s the Djinn! Rex Ingram’s performance is imposing in the way that you almost actually believe he’s a magical spirit several stories high. He’s mischievous and playful, and even as he’s indebted to his promise to grant Abu’s wishes, he’s the type of genie that’s not exactly invested in mortal affairs. Just look at the way this guy looks! Considering that the film is over 80 years old at this point, it’s damn impressive how good a lot of these effects looked, with no example more blatantly clear than the Djinn.
Never have the words “be careful what you wish for” been truer than in the 1997 horror flick Wishmaster. Forget everything you know about genies: this guy is one insidious spirit. After torturing and grotesquely killing dozens of palace inhabitants in 12th Century Persia, Wishmaster’s djinn is imprisoned in an opal. When he’s awakened in the present day, this sicko unleashes a torrent of death and destruction on anybody foolish enough to make a wish. Sure, the movie’s a bit corny, but it’s also entertaining as all hell, due largely in part to Andrew Divoff’s over-the-top and theatrical performance as the djinn. His only wish is to be free to wreak hellish havoc upon the earth, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get the three wishes he needs to get there.
Here’s a genie that couldn’t be further from the quirky-but-lovable depictions that precede him. He’s mean, nasty, and sadistic, always ready to showcase his twisted sense of humor by disfiguring and mutilating folks in endlessly creative ways. As the body count racks up to unprecedented levels (depicted with truly astonishing bits of body horror-tinged gore), the Djinn only continues to prove himself to be a truly memorable horror villain.
Barani (Richard Eyer), the youthful, baby-faced genie in The 7th Voyage of Sinbad is a true adventurer at heart. It’s kind of adorable how he looks up to Sinbad’s (Kerwin Matthews) sea-faring lifestyle, wanting to be freed from his lamp in order to sail across the world. Look at him: he’s just a little guy! Don’t let his small stature deceive you, though, since he’s just as powerful as any other genie you’ll see, warding off gigantic cyclops and other monsters like it’s only light cardio.
For all his powers, Barani’s an emotional little fellow. He mopes about the hazy, smoke-filled interior of his lamp itching for a better life, one free from his eternal bondage. “The most comfortable prison is still a lonely place,” he says with overwhelming melancholy, and it’s impossible not to empathize with the guy. In a spectacular vision of eye-popping special effects and stop-motion creature animation by the legendary Ray Harryhausen, Barani the genie is yet another bit of movie magic. He’s a youthful genie dedicated to trying his very best, hoping to make life easier for his dear friends.
Idris Elba gives a nuanced performance as a brooding, romantically-starved genie in Three Thousand Years of Longing. Unleashed from a Turkish glass bottle by Alithea (Tilda Swinton), Elba’s genie oozes steamy sex appeal as he recounts tales of his past, with the hopes of convincing his new master to make three wishes and set him free. He wanders around an Istanbul hotel suite, dressed in a white, cotton robe, playing the role of Scheherazade by telling three beguiling stories.
This djinn is unlike the others, largely in part to his unsatiated desire and his fundamental character flaws. Like a mortal being, The Djinn succumbs to lust, jealousy, and selfishness, and he has the sensibility to frankly admit such faults. It’s a refreshing change of pace to see Elba’s (and writer/director George Miller’s) interpretation of the timeless character be so frank and vulnerable. Brooding around the suite and perpetually trapped in the rich tapestry of stories that make up his past, The Djinn in Three Thousand Years of Longing is one of the most emotionally complex genies in all cinema. His tales, contained within the frame-narrative of the movie, are as crucial to the overarching themes as all else.
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