S.O.S.

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 962, 3 May 1930, Page 16

S.O.S.

GRIM DRAMA OF SHIPWRECK “ATLANTIC” FOR CIVIC At last a film that is different! “Atlantic,” the story of a transAtlantic liner disaster, bears no resemblance to any previous film, whether made in Hollywood or in Europe. “Atlantic” is at once unforgettably real and unbearably tense. It deals with life, not in trivial moments, but at the peak. A great liner strikes an iceberg, and is so badly damaged that she will sink in three hours. We see the routine of shipboard life and meet a few of the saloon passengers. We see the crashing of the iceberg, the cramming of the women and children into the boats in a frenzy of excitement, and watch the reactions of those who are left behind to perish. There is no plot of the stereotyped kind, with a love interest centering around two leading, characters, only the unveiling of the naked souls of all manner of men when faced with the crisis of death. To some this may appear a depressing theme to follow for nearly two hours, but in actuality the spectacular qualities, suspense, and flawless treatment grip the interest to the end. That was the experience when the film was shown in London, and was also the experience of those fortunate to see a private screening in Auckland recently. There is not the faintest doubt that when the film is shown at the Civic Theatre shortly, Aucklanders too will be unanimous in acclaiming this brilliant English alltalking production. VIVID SCENES One will naturally ask, “How does the film end?” Well, one is conscious of impending doom from the moment the iceberg is sighted, but the ending is nevertheless a shock. In every scene the tenseness is there. For example when the water-tight doors are closed, we see the steel door descending, and there is a horrible moment when it is doubtful whether all the men will get tlirough in time. There are also some extraordinarily vivid scenes on deck during the scramble for the boats. Another typical instance is when Lanchester, the second officer, has his chance to escape with a child that has been left. But we never know whether he succeeds. As the end draws nearer the tempo increases. Earlier everything had been quiet and a little too slow, but in the last half hour the action becomes impressive. The la'st boat has gone and the men, with such women as have refused to leave them, are waiting on deck for the end. The water gains slowly. The night is peaceful. These people, packed so close, are living out the last moments of their lives. They are calm, it is like a reunion. The dance orchestra leads in a hymn . . four men play cards ... the water is above their waists . . . but we are not allowed to see more. The screen darkens. Out of the darkness comes the roaring of rushing waters and the clergyman—passenger’s voice, “. . . the power . . . and the glory . . And a fervent response . . . Next morning the sun comes up over a calm sea. There is nothing else. It is colour- | less to say that the film is a tremendous achievement, or to detail the excellent ! work of the actors. It is fittingly described by the London “Daily Express” as “The ‘Journey’s End’ of the Screen.”