Has the carpet lost its magic?

The latest in a long line of cinematic trends, live action remakes of classic Disney films are being produced in droves. 27 years after the original was released, an entire generation of 90s kids queued to see whether 2019’s Aladdin could match up to the Arabian epic of their childhoods.

The trailer for Guy Ritchie’s Aladdin promised lush CGI, a soundtrack thick with nostalgia and exciting chase scenes. These promises are fulfilled with endless deserts, bustling markets and Arabian-esque architecture. Ritchie’s direction adds a fresh coat of paint to the popular Disney original, while sticking closely to the 1992 template. The storyline is well-versed; a charming street-rat, Aladdin (Mena Massoud), falls in love with Princess Jasmine (Naomi Scott), and their love story is flanked by the exploits of the villainous Jafar (Marwan Kenzari) and the garrulous Genie (Will Smith). Ritchie’s remake is so predictable that it begs the question of necessity; if anything, the cobwebs of 27 years have been shaken off to reveal a gaudy and extravagant replica of the original.

One of the saving graces of the film is the casting of main characters - the cartoonish good looks of Massoud are freakishly close to the animated Aladdin, and Scott’s Jasmine is every little girl’s dream brought to life. Ritchie presumably made an attempt to steer clear of white-washing, as the cast was far more culturally authentic than the original all-white ensemble. As if you needed any more proof of how forward-thinking the modern Aladdin is, even feminism makes an appearance. The remake accents the feminist undertones at which the original only hinted, and this is where Ritchie can take a bow. While the original Jasmine was strong-willed, Scott’s princess is a fiery feminist who fights for equality, as well as the man she loves. Despite its flaws, Aladdin can be credited with embracing 21st century thinking.

Disney has always produced distinctively seductive villains, and audiences were banking on Jafar. In the original film, Jafar’s charismatically evil countenance made him a classic Disney villain, while his parrot provided comic relief. Ironically, in 2019’s remake, it is the parrot that inspires more fear than its master. Kenzari’s feeble attempt at a menacing Grand-Vizier falls short, and Jafar’s consequent actions could be equated with a petulant child’s temper tantrum. This somewhat lessened the dramatic tension, to say the least.

The return of the loquacious Genie was, arguably, even more highly anticipated than the movie itself. As the blue guardian of my childhood, the late Robin Williams left behind a large pair of tasselled shoes which Will Smith gamely tries on for size in the remake. Smith’s commitment to the role is commendable; he reinvents the Genie to suit his own personality, and his comedic chops are undoubtable. However, my admittedly biased gaze could not help feeling that Smith’s Genie leaves audiences wishing for more.

Aladdin takes audiences on a meticulous trip down memory lane; one can almost visualise the original, simply by stripping back a few layers of reality. Despite the cinematic déjà vu, the remakeoffers audiences a fresh glimpse into the love story between independent princess and scoundrel with a heart of gold, putting a modern spin on the classic tale. While there appears to be scant logical reasoning behind its remaking, Aladdin provides wholesome, albeit unremarkable, entertainment.