Brigitte Helm (Antinea), John Stuart (Lieutenant Saint-Avit), Tela Tschai (Tanit Zerga, the serving girl), Gustav Diessl (Captain Morange), Florelle (Clementine, the dancer), Gibb McLoughlin (Count Bielowski), Mathias Wieman (the Norwegian), Georges Tourreil (Lieutenant Ferrieres), Gertrude Pabst (journalist).
Director G. W. PABST. Screenplay: Ladislav Vajda, Hermann Oberlander. English dialogue: Miles Mander. Based on the novel L'Atlantide by Pierre Benoit. Photography: Eugene Schuftan, Ernest Koerner. Film editor: Hans Oser. Art director: Erno Metzner. Costumes designed by Max Pretzfelder. Music: Wolfgang Zeller. Sound recording: Adolph Jansen. Producers: Seymour Nebenzahl, Wilhelm Lowenberg.
Shot on the Haggar Desert in North Africa and at the NeroFilm Studio in Berlin. London opening of the English version with John Stuart as Saint-Avit: 3 July 1933. Berlin opening of Die Herrin von Atlantis with Heinz Klingenberg as Saint-Avit: 6 September 1932. Paris opening of L'Atlantide with Pierre Blanchard as Saint-Avit and Jean Angelo as Captain Morhange (sic): 8 June 1932. The French version ran 94 minutes while the German and English versions ran only 87 minutes. Presumably, the role played by Captain Morange in the non- French versions was reduced. Jean Angelo played the same role in the 1921 silent, so one could argue that he was presumably given a few extra scenes to build up his part in the talkie. However, the detailed synopsis of the French version, published in The New York Times, is exactly the same in every degree to the story-line in the 87-minutes English version under review. This version, released in the U.S.A. in 1939, was never copyrighted and has always been in the public domain. (Mill Creek DVD rates 6 or 7/10).
COMMENT: A breathtaking mixture of fantasy and film noir, with the emphasis on the latter quality, filmed in the most extravagantly baroque style imaginable, amidst some of the most spectacularly atmospheric sets and locations ever captured on camera, this is the movie that inspired Orson Welles and that he tried so often to duplicate in films like Othello, Macbeth and Mr Arkadin but—hampered by limited budgets at every turn—with only partial success.
Mind you, the dubbing here is a slight distraction, and Gibb McLaughlin over-acts atrociously as the count of little account. I would prefer Vladimir Sokoloff. On the other hand, we see far less of Gustav Diessl than the plot requires to be really effective.
Director G. W. PABST. Screenplay: Ladislav Vajda, Hermann Oberlander. English dialogue: Miles Mander. Based on the novel L'Atlantide by Pierre Benoit. Photography: Eugene Schuftan, Ernest Koerner. Film editor: Hans Oser. Art director: Erno Metzner. Costumes designed by Max Pretzfelder. Music: Wolfgang Zeller. Sound recording: Adolph Jansen. Producers: Seymour Nebenzahl, Wilhelm Lowenberg.
Shot on the Haggar Desert in North Africa and at the NeroFilm Studio in Berlin. London opening of the English version with John Stuart as Saint-Avit: 3 July 1933. Berlin opening of Die Herrin von Atlantis with Heinz Klingenberg as Saint-Avit: 6 September 1932. Paris opening of L'Atlantide with Pierre Blanchard as Saint-Avit and Jean Angelo as Captain Morhange (sic): 8 June 1932. The French version ran 94 minutes while the German and English versions ran only 87 minutes. Presumably, the role played by Captain Morange in the non- French versions was reduced. Jean Angelo played the same role in the 1921 silent, so one could argue that he was presumably given a few extra scenes to build up his part in the talkie. However, the detailed synopsis of the French version, published in The New York Times, is exactly the same in every degree to the story-line in the 87-minutes English version under review. This version, released in the U.S.A. in 1939, was never copyrighted and has always been in the public domain. (Mill Creek DVD rates 6 or 7/10).
COMMENT: A breathtaking mixture of fantasy and film noir, with the emphasis on the latter quality, filmed in the most extravagantly baroque style imaginable, amidst some of the most spectacularly atmospheric sets and locations ever captured on camera, this is the movie that inspired Orson Welles and that he tried so often to duplicate in films like Othello, Macbeth and Mr Arkadin but—hampered by limited budgets at every turn—with only partial success.
Mind you, the dubbing here is a slight distraction, and Gibb McLaughlin over-acts atrociously as the count of little account. I would prefer Vladimir Sokoloff. On the other hand, we see far less of Gustav Diessl than the plot requires to be really effective.