L'Atlantide

This is beautiful and strange but comes to us from so far back it doesn't register for what it really is. The novel it was based on is apparently a piece of exoticist fluff, popular then - a time of archaeology and excavations in faraway places promising original truth.

We get fantastical story of Saharan intrigue and adventure at first sight. There are hooded Tuareg figures, a pet leopard, a binge- drinking impresario, lots of feverish wandering about in rooms, a prophecy of death, and a memory inside memory that flashes back to Paris and the Folies Bergeres. All this is worthy of Sternberg and Dietrich in their their own escapades into sensual , opiate dreaming.

But it's all what an unreliable narrator presents to us of his supposed discovery of the lost city of Atlantis, elusive sand-particles of a story.

Your first clue is that there is a woman in the early stages of the lost expedition who writes an account - a script - of the narrative. The film is from that French tradition of layered fiction most notably expressed later in Rivette and Ruiz, but predates them all with the exception of Epstein, that mage of fluid dreaming.

It is not immensely effective. Sternberg made similar things work because he was madly in love with Dietrich with the kind of love that bends reality. Pabst lacks his own muse this time, Louise Brooks, so there are no strong currents around his woman. His brilliance is that he doesn't film big and gaudy, it's a piece of erotic fantasy after all, in an exotic place. And it's a story being recalled, a piece of sunbaked imagination.

The magic is not in the sets and costumes the way Lang did for Metropolis, though some of them impress the overall feel is earthy and makeshift, like something the narrator and listener may have walked through in their patrols and have the images for.

No, Pabst sustains the fantasy in the uncanny drafts of desert wind between something resembling reality and feverish dream, with fragile (for the time) borders between memory and fiction, the mind captive in its own world of stories. The pursuit of myth is only the opportunity to travel out in search of fictions spun from such fabrics of the imaginative mind.

What Pabst does here finds its continuation in Celine and Julie Go Boating (not Indiana Jones).

Eventually it is all swallowed up by the sands and time, every answer we had hoped for. There was a woman desired, possibly a cabaret dancer and that's all we can glean - consider the subplot in Rivette's film about a vaudeville tour in the middle east. The rest is gauzy and half-glimpsed.

And the prospect that Pabst has modeled the Queen after Leni Riefenstahl is tantalizing; cold beauty, a dancer, surrounded with mystical pageantry, plus the actress looks like her.

Upon hearing theories that Atlantis wasn't buried in the sea but rather under the sands of the Sahara Desert, the French send two army officers by the names of "Captain Morhange" (Gustav Diessl) and "Lieutenant Saint-Avit" (John Stuart) to try to locate it. Unfortunately, once they get close to their destination the tribesmen they hired betray them and turn them over to the evil queen of Atlantis named "Antinea" (Brigitte Helm). Surprisingly, Queen Antinea falls madly in love with Captain Morhange while at the same time Lieutenant Saint-Avit becomes attracted to her. But because he is a loyal French officer, Captain Morhange is more concerned about the health and welfare of his subordinate and this results in severe consequences for both of them. Now rather than reveal any more I will just say that this is one of those old and rare films that is probably better appreciated from an historical perspective than from a more modern context. Yet even with certain allowances made it is still undermined by the rather bizarre plot and abrupt script. Of course, the fact that it was translated into three different languages (English, German and French) no doubt affected that to an extent. In any case, although it was not without its flaws I still found the movie to be somewhat entertaining and I have rated it accordingly. Slightly above average.

Atlantis in the Sahara? This English-language version of L'ATLANTIDE follows two French Foreign Legionnaires lost in the Algerian desert who stumble into the subterranean kingdom of Antinea, the enigmatic ruler of the title. Fantasy buffs may find this production is all elaborate build-up with little dramatic payoff, while the politically inclined may see this as a late spasm of colonial chic that exploits real people for their exoticism. However, for fans of director Pabst's erotic indirection [as in PANDORA'S BOX], this makes a heady lesson in how to build a sensuous, suggestive atmosphere.

Pabst sets his cameras gliding across the sands and into real locations in the Hoggar mountains. Towering, black-shrouded tribesmen appear, then sleek native women beckon with mysterious gestures of invitation. When they descend into the maze of tunnels that is Antinea's kingdom, they find a tipsy, excitable Quentin Crisp-y character, a longtime resident who holds some key to its history. As Antinea, the great German star Brigitte Helm has a mesmerizing presence as she lolls on a divan, with a menacing leopard at her side. Equally imposing is a monumental stone head of her visage that figures in several memorable compositions. When the protagonist [who is not a traditional hero] is first summoned to Antinea, what unfathomable depravity will take place? They play chess, of course. The story comes from a popular French novel, but it is Pabst's fluid style that makes this masterly kitsch.

COMRADESHIP (1931) can be said to have marked the relative end of the most fruitful period in the career of renowned German film-maker G. W. Pabst that had seen him create a handful of classics of World Cinema; in fact, his next venture was a very ambitious undertaking – an adaptation (in distinct German, French and English-language versions) of Pierre Benoit's epic adventure novel L'ATLANTIDE – but one that, in hindsight, would prove only partially successful. Another distinguished film-maker, Frenchman Jacques Feyder, had already made a celebrated stab at the material as a 3-hour Silent epic in 1921 and, over the years, other established film-makers – John Brahm, Frank Borzage, Edgar G. Ulmer, Vittorio Cottafavi, George Pal, Ruggero Deodato, Bob Swaim and even "Walt Disney" – would find themselves attracted to the subject of the mythical lost empire. Admittedly, I have never read Benoit's original source and this 1932 English-language version is the first cinematic adaptation of it that I am watching but, is not Atlantis supposed to be an undersea kingdom? In fact, a recent study even went so far as to imply that the island of Malta (from where I hail) might well have formed part of Atlantis centuries ago! How come, therefore, that here (and, reportedly, likewise the other adaptations) it is situated in sandy desert dunes? A criticism leveled at the Feyder film had been that his choice of leading lady (the entrancing Queen of Atlantis) was all wrong but Pabst certainly got that bit down perfectly when he cast Brigitte Helm – best-known for playing the two Marias in Fritz Lang's METROPOLIS (1927) as Antinea. The plot has a little of H. Rider Haggard's SHE about it as two legionnaires stumble onto Atlantis in the Sahara desert and lose themselves within its labyrinthine dungeons replete with Antinea's past male conquests that have either gone mad or been mummified! The two male leads seemed slightly overage to me but, in any case, whatever acting capabilities they might possess would essentially have been dwarfed by the awesome sets and imaginative camera-work. As a matter of fact, this is where the film's main fault lies: the protagonists' plight never moves us as it should, even when one kills the other over Antinea or when, after her terrible secret is revealed to him, the survivor decides to go back to Atlantis anyway. The fleeting appearances of an eccentric 'prisoner' of Antinea (who speaks with a distinctly upper-class British accent and sports a Daliesque moustache) adds to the fun quotient but, overall, the stilted rendition of the dialogue (even Helm utters her own scarce lines in English) is on a par with other films from the early Talkie era. For the record, although every listing I have checked of this film gives its running time as 87 minutes, the version I watched ran for just 78! Incidentally, a movie I should be catching up with presently – DESERT LEGION (1953) with Alan Ladd, Richard Conte and Arlene Dahl – is said to have been partially inspired by Benoit's L'ATLANTIDE itself!

One of, if not the first version of the novel L'ATLANTIDE, concerns the story of two French Legionnaires who stumble upon the remains of Atlantis under the Sahara desert. There they meet various people including the Queen, played here by Bridgette Helm (Maria in Metropolis).

There have been at least six versions of the story brought to the screen and this is the second version I've seen.(The first on I saw was Siren of Atlantis and its pretty awful). Clearly filmed on location on the desert this movie is interesting to watch for a while, however once the pair ends up underground the film seems to get lost. I don't know if its because the print I saw is some 10 minutes shorter than the official running time on IMDb, or if there is something missing from the novel, either way the movie just sort of stops and runs in circles while I tried desperately to figure out what I was seeing. While it never gets really bad, it does get discouraging since its clear that there is a story here that would draw film makers back again and again, unfortunately what ever that quality is is missing. Running some 78 minutes this version feels twice as long.

I can't really recommend this movie since it just sort of misses the target. However if you're interested in old fantasy movies or ones that have been filmed repeatedly I'd give it a shot, if nothing else Bridgette Helm is easy on the eyes. 5 out of 10.