Antinea. the Queen of Atlantis, rules her secret kingdom hidden beneath the Sahara Desert. One day two lost explorers stumble into her kingdom, and soon realize that they haven't really been... Read allAntinea. the Queen of Atlantis, rules her secret kingdom hidden beneath the Sahara Desert. One day two lost explorers stumble into her kingdom, and soon realize that they haven't really been saved--Antinea has a habit of taking men as lovers, then when she's done with them, she k... Read allAntinea. the Queen of Atlantis, rules her secret kingdom hidden beneath the Sahara Desert. One day two lost explorers stumble into her kingdom, and soon realize that they haven't really been saved--Antinea has a habit of taking men as lovers, then when she's done with them, she kills them and keeps them mummified.
- Tanit Zerga
- (as Tela Tchai)
- L'hetman de Jitomir
- (as Vl. Sokoloff)
- Ivar Torstenson
- (as M. Wieman)
- Jean Chataignier
- (uncredited)
Featured reviews
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.
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.
The premise of this film is that Atlantis was not lost in sea but covered in the Sahara Desert. And, unknown to outsiders, this bizarre land still exists--and is ruled by a goofy lady named Antinea (Brigitte Helm). For the most part, folks just sit around in this land doing nothing while Antinea spends her time jerking men around because you assume she has nothing better to do. If she says to kill, they do--and it's all VERY slow and mysterious--with LOTS of staring from Antinea. In fact, she rarely talks (possibly due to her strong German accent) but lounges about and makes men dance because she is, supposedly, so exotic and enticing. Yeah,...whatever.
All in all, this is a pretty bad film. The plot is WAY too slow, the acting way too poor and you wonder how Pabst could have made such a film. I was hoping for a strange escapist sort of film (like "She", 1935) but instead it was just boredom from start to finish.
FYI--Helm was famous as the lady who was the evil robot woman from "Metropolis". However, in "Metropolis" her performance was much more human and emotive!
Did you know
- TriviaTela Tchaï's debut.
- ConnectionsEdited into The Time It Takes (2024)
- SoundtracksGalop infernal
(AKA "Can Can")
Taken form the comic opera "Orphée aux enfers"/"Orpheus in the Underworld" (1858)
Composed by Jacques Offenbach
Details
- Runtime1 hour 21 minutes
- Color