L'astronave

The only time I've seen this rare Scandinavian foray into sci-fi territory mentioned anywhere - prior to its DVD availability courtesy of the Danish Film Institute - was in a literate appraisal of the genre by noted critic Philip Strick (who, incidentally, passed away recently). This alone would make it interesting and a film to seek out - but, alas, while undeniably good to look at (a traditionally Danish quality, I might add), dramatically it turned out to be a major disappointment!

Apart from being technically stilted and plagued by the exaggerated gestures of the actors (a well-established liability of most Silent-era product), it also presents a totally different view of Mars and its inhabitants to the one we've grown accustomed to seeing in later American films tinged by paranoia. Not only is there no concentrated effort to show an alternative landscape for the red planet, but the Martians themselves are merely benevolent humans fitted in Roman-era attire (with the addition of some outlandish accoutrements): apparently, they were once as 'barbaric' as us but have gradually attained enlightenment - and, though their language is different from that of their earthly visitors, they're somehow able to transmit their thoughts to them! In essence, it's clear that the film is infused with the last remnants of 19th century Romanticism (some of the title cards are unbelievably hokey) which Weimar Germany and, then, the Wall Street crash helped eradicate - leading to a change in the general attitude of cinema.

The ultimate intent of the picture, obviously, was a general plea for tolerance and understanding (WWI was still raging when the film emerged); however, while certainly watchable (and short enough at 81 minutes not to lapse into boredom), the almost total lack of tension between the inhabitants of the two planets - where, back home, it's represented by the ripe but highly amusing villainy of a Mephistophelean character who, eventually, gets his just desserts by way of a lightning bolt! - makes for an altogether dull narrative. Besides, virtually none of the occupants of the vessel - which itself constitutes nothing more fanciful than an airship - who have been assembled from all over the world (and are contemplating mutiny against their stoic captain when the journey takes longer than expected!) get to do much of anything once they land on Mars!!

I saw "Heaven-Ship" ("Himmelskibet") at the 2006 Cinema Muto festival in Sacile, Italy. What a great movie! This Danish steampunk saga is the stirring tale of the first trip to Mars, in an era when wireless telegraphy hasn't been perfected. The spaceship hasn't got a radio, and the heroes are brought back from the landing field via horsecart. Even the intertitles are delightful ... some of them written in rhymed couplets in the original Danish.

The actors' performances are laughable, largely hand-to-brow histrionics. But the sets are astonishing, easily surpassing anything done by Georges Melies a decade earlier (or in "Die Frau im Mond" a decade later). Of course, the plot is simplistic. The spaceship's crew consist of seven thin guys and one fat slob. Guess which one cracks. Interestingly, everyone in this movie (except the dubious Professor Dubius) ardently believes in God. Even the Martians.

Impressively, the scenarists have the sense to acknowledge that a trip to Mars is no doddle: the title cards establish that it takes the scientists two years to build their spaceship (which has an airscrew) and six months to reach Mars. During the construction sequence, there's one extremely impressive set-up which must have been choreographed: dozens of workers all hustle through the worksite in different directions, with no hesitations and no collisions. The Danish scientists christen their ship "Excelsior" ("packing materials"?) and set course for Mars, even though the Moon and Venus are closer. When the ship (which flies horizontally, not vertically) lands on Mars, it is greeted by "Marsboerne" -- Martians -- who turn out to be Nordic blondes, all highly-developed pacifists and vegetarians. (As a highly-developed meat-eater, I resented that part.)

Conveniently enough, Mars turns out to have an atmosphere just like Earth's, as well as equal gravity. In an exterior shot of the Martian landscape, the Sun's apparent magnitude when seen from Mars is the same as it is when viewed from Earth. I also couldn't help observing that all the wise elder Martians are male. In fact, female elders are thin on the ground here: both the Earth-born hero and the Martian maiden are motherless. The Martians speak a universal language, wear ankhs on their robes, and greet the Earth visitors with a globe of Earth ... which of course they hold with its North Pole upward.

That Martian maiden is Marya, played by an ethereally beautiful Danish actress. (Waiter, I'll have some of that Danish!) We see a Martian dance of chastity which might have been twee or ludicrous but is actually quite touching and beautiful. Also, the Martian funeral scene features one shot which reminded me of a sequence in "The Seventh Seal". I wonder if Ingmar Bergman saw this film.

"Himmelskibet" has a few flaws, but its production design and its other merits very far outweigh its drawbacks. The Ole Olsen who is named in the credits (and who appears in a brief prologue) is no relation to Chic Johnson's vaudeville partner from "Hellzapoppin". I would give "Himmelskibet" a 12, but the scale tops off at 10 ... so, a full 10 out of 10 for this delightful trip to Mars, the blonde planet!

Avanti Planeteros (Gunnar Tolnaes) is a soldier returned home after the war. His astronomer father (Nicolai Neiiendam) convinces him that the future is in the stars, so Avanti teams with Dr. Krafft (Alf Blutecher), who is betrothed to Avanti's sister Corona (Zanny Petersen), to build a spaceship capable of reaching Mars. They construct something that looks like a small, metal blimp with bi-plane wings, and along with a crew of about 8 other guys, they set off for Mars. Once there, they discover an idyllic paradise of robe-wearing, God-loving vegetarians. And of course a Martian woman (Lilly Jacobson) who immediately falls in love with Avanti. Also featuring Frederik Jacobsen as Professor Dubius.

This had to have been silly stuff even in 1918. After the end of WWI I'm sure that most Europeans were looking for a peaceful new way of life as far from war and misery as possible. The Martians aren't aliens as much as idealized humans, looking a bit like Ancient Greeks but with Egyptian ankhs on all of their clothing (Ancient Aliens?!?). The acting is hammy, the effects as primitive as one would imagine, and the story both juvenile and overlong. However, this is an important foundational step in the genre, which is why it's one of the 101 Sci-Fi Movies to See Before You Die.

The view of the world in this movie is clearly dated, but as the movie is from 1918, it's hard to put it against it. What is more impressive is everything it does right. This is not a movie using science fiction as a gimmick - it uses the genre to explore ideas about the time it was made. In the end of the first world war, here's a movie exploring if mankind can live in peace, how we treat our prisoners, how life in a submarine (here: spacecraft) can affect ones mental health, how pushing science forward is a global affair, and can unite different parts of the world, and so on.

While I am not sure just how much the general public knew about astronomy - this movie presents the mission to mars in a way that seems realistic. It takes time, people doubt it, and it takes a toll on the members. They point out where mars will be as they leave Earth, and where it will be when they arrive. The spacecraft itself is like a submarine with a propeller and wings. Mars itself I am sure was quite a mystery back then, so the fact that they made it Earth-like is very understandable. It also opened up for them using Mars and Martians in a way that let the film makers comment on the people of Earth.

The movie is not subtle in the message it is conveying: people on earth should stop with wars and violence and rather go with love. In the end of the most gruesome war in world history up till that point - that sounds like a good message.

The worst part about this movie is the one evil character in it. He serves little purpose, and undermines the underlying message of the film that humans are capable of being good.

Years before the movie serial Flash Gordon came upon the scene, the first science-fiction space opera was Denmark's February 1918 "A Trip To Mars." Produced during the middle of World War One, the movie paints a utopian vision of peace & love on the planet Mars from its inhabitants. The line "Love is the Force you call God" is repeated several times, illustrating how screenwriter Ole Olsen felt Earthlings needed to be reminded of that lesson while the European carnage was happening next door to Denmark.

It has been noted "A Trip To Mars" is the first science fiction feature-length movie ever produced. There have been earlier alien-encounter films on Mars and the Moon released, but they were "shorts." The Mars journey the Danes created here was made at a time when lines thought to be canals existing on the planet could be seen from our best telescopes, hinting there was a sophisticated alien life there. When the movie's Earthlings land on the very hospitable planet, its residents welcome their visitors with open arms--that is until a gun is produce by one of the "barbaric" guests to shoot down a bird, setting off a contrast between the two civilizations.

Once things are set right, the viewer appreciates the love and kindness of the Martians, one of the very few times the Red Planet is shown to have benevolent aliens (See list of top Mars movies ranked in below links). Just as the real life Pocahontas was brought to England to showcase the Native Americans, Mars' knockout female Corona was transported to Earth to convey a heavenly message of peace, love and understanding.

A portion of "A Trip To Mars" is devoted to the technology of transporting men to another planet. Many inventions and scientific research have gone towards present-day's outer space achievements, but the fact the film devotes its time towards space travel qualifies it as a "space opera," a phrase coined in 1941. Like soap operas, space operas have dramatic impact on not only the method of travel, but the dramatics of human encounters with alien life. In "A Trip To Mars," the movie's aim is to impact its audience with a message that was hoped to change the direction of Western civilization, just as Thomas More had intended in his book "Utopia" and James Hilton in his "Shangri-La." With "The War To End All Wars" becoming just one in a string of long bloody conflicts following it, the Martian example hasn't quite sunk in yet.