Atlântida

I watched the French version of this film and the casting varies slightly to the German and UK versions. This film plays on the idea that Atlantis hasn't disappeared into the sea but lies buried under the sands of the Sahara. Why not? I have no doubt that those sands are burying secrets that could help us determine our origins and rewrite our history. For this film, the mystery of Atlantis is interwoven into the culture of the native Tauregs. From a garrison stationed in the Sahara, Captain Pierre Blanchar (Saint-Avit) recounts his story to Lieutenant Georges Tourreil (Ferrieres) of how he ended up in this mythical place where he met the evil Queen - Brigitte Helm (Antinea). Is his tale one of truth or is he bonkers?

The film has an interesting subject matter and a great location to keep you watching. It's full of mystery and you never quite know what is going on as characters that we meet don't say much. Well, apart from Vladimir Sokoloff who plays the mysterious European resident who is slightly camp and totally insane. However, the film sort of meanders along and the audience has no real sense of purpose as to what the aim of it all is. There are memorable scenes that are thrown in but they may all be red herrings. Is this just one man's lunatic ravings as he has been affected by the sun? Or has this stuff really happened?

I think the thing to do is smoke some "kuff" and find out. It's easily available in Atlantis - 40% hashish and 60% opium. Everyone - let's go explore the Sahara!

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.

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.

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.

As I watched this, I thought, what a nice print. The sound is good. The images are nice. It's certainly good at capturing the desert and the lost city in the title. Then I got to the key element. I just could not get involved in the story. Try as I might, I never had any empathy with any of the characters. They seem to be pulled around by non sequiters. It reminded me a little of the TV series "The Prisoner." There seem to be random forces at work that cannot be fathomed. Throw in the fact that there is something missing beside these aforementioned motivations, and it just doesn't work for me. There are lots of close-ups. This seems to be part of a legacy from the silent film, a transition piece if you will. Maybe, what it needs is those speech boxes, telling what the characters are thinking or presenting their reasoning. As a period piece it's interesting. Maybe someday a person will clean it up and restore a few things.