Frenchman Luc Besson is perhaps best known for his direction of Subway and La Femme Nikita, the source for the American remake called Point of No Return. But before he scored with Nikita, he directed a movie called The Big Blue about a diver who ultimately chooses to share life with the fishes instead of the movie’s romantic lead Rosanna Arquette. Atlantis is a 75-minute-long documentary shot completely underwater. The CinemaScope cinematography is so extraordinary that even veteran oceanographer Jacques Cousteau would find himself agog with wonder. Tracking shots glide nimbly through the water following the motions of various sea creatures, plant life, and ocean undulations. The illuminated clarity and natural candor of the images is nothing short of stunning. The photography alone makes Atlantis a remarkable achievement. Unfortunately, the film’s achievements stop abruptly right there. But for a few sentences about the concept of Atlantis (“underwater life without man”) delivered in an opening voiceover by Besson, Atlantis is entirely wordless. The soundtrack is a continually changing orchestral, choral, and synthesized score. The music varies to match the mood of each segment. And should there be any doubt regarding the concepts governing the sections, each is introduced by a one-word caption like “rhythm” or “motion.” The images are edited together to illustrate various species demonstrating these concepts. Gradually the captions become more anthropomorphic and abstract with words like “soul,” “love,” and “hate” dominating. I’m not sure that clips of various aquatic creatures filmed in the act of procreation is the same thing as a demonstration of love. The “hate” sequence focuses on sharks in search of prey. I’m sorry, but I object to the notion that sharks kill because they are filled with hate. (As the sharks congregate and encircle their prey, you practically expect the music to swell into the gang themes from West Side Story.) This application of abstract human concepts to the behavior of fish and water mammals is questionable to me at best. Such goals seem better suited to the maintenance of an aquarium than the making of a movie. But, nevertheless, a movie is what we have. Part of it delivers knock-out images and exquisite camerawork. The other part is just one big fish story.
This article appears in July 29 • 1994 (Cover).
