As mentioned previously, in “Impossible Voyages” I’m watching and writing about a run of new (to me) science fiction films to be watched over this year (and possibly beyond). You can read the rationale and ground rules here. In the meantime, we are advancing from 1913 to 1918 with this movie, #4 in this series.
Spoilers Ahead
A Trip to Mars [Himmelskibet] (1918)
Directed by Holger Madsen
The Story: Avanti Planetaros leads an expedition to the distant planet Mars in the spaceship Excelsior, where he encounters a highly advanced race of peace-loving aliens. While his father and sister anxiously wait for news of their fate, Avanti falls in love with Marya, the daughter of the Martian elder. Marya elects to return to earth with Avanti and his crew.
Starring: Gunnar Tolnæs as Avanti Planetaros, Zanny Petersen as his sister Corona, and Nicolai Neiiendam as their father Professor Planetaros. Alf Blütecher is Dr. Krafft, Avanti’s friend and fellow explorer, who is in love with Corona. Lilly Jacobson plays Marya, and Philip Bech is her father the Martial leader. Frederik Jacobsen is Professor Dubius, a rival scientist who mocks the Martian expedition.
Comments: It’s interesting to be viewing these movies in chronological order, as it definitely gives you an impression of film as an artwork in these early, silent days. Obviously it’s a limited impression, as I’m skipping through these decades pretty freely (from 1913 to 1918 this time), but still its evident that A Trip to Mars (or Himmelskibet, as it was known in Danish, or more directly “The Sky Ship” or “The Heaven Ship”) that filmmaking continues to develop. The story is much more complex than we got in A Message from Mars, there are a lot more characters, there is a lot more location shooting, and the plot has a much greater scope (even if you discount the stuff that takes place on Mars).
Probably the movie’s biggest strength is its cinematography. Aside from the by-necessity dodgy spaceship compositing, A Trip to Mars just looks great. There is a lot of good set design, strong compositions and striking use of lighting.
Perhaps unfortunately, that the film’s ability to deliver strong imagery extends to the acting as well, with much of the cast resorting to extreme physical gestures and stances in order to convey their emotions.
As a result, as has been commented by others, the performances are often reduced to a series of grandiose poses. This is especially true of Gunnar Tolnæs as Avanti, who frequently will reach up to the sky or gaze out longingly, apparently overwhelmed by deep and rapturous passions, as he speaks of his dreams to visit another planet, or of his love for the Martian girl Marya, or whatever else is going on in the film at the time.
This sort of theatrical film acting may have been more of an acceptable style of the day, but for modern eyes, it’s just weird, and extremely distracting if you are trying to immerse yourself into the story.
But then again, that story is as much a series of allegorical ideas as much as it is anything else. It’s worth remembering that this is a movie made during the first World War, and also that Denmark was neutral in that conflict. Thus there were things that the filmmakers were not actually allowed to deal with, but nonetheless managed to make a movie that talks about the wickedness that humanity does, and the desperate need for a message of peace. And that, rather then telling a story rife with dramatic incident, is their priority.
And so when the humans meet the too-good-to-be-true Martians living their bucolic, paradisiacal existence, it turns out there is no twist. There’s no dark side to the society, no race of Morlocks living underground that use these guys for food, no heartless super-computer that keeps the civilisation stagnant. The Martians are precisely who they appear to be–basically humans who are just waaaay better. They are pacifists, they never use weapons, they eat only fruit, they have a legal system that values self-knowledge and personal growth over punitive judgment, and they accept death as a transition to a better life. They are the kind of people that human beings should be.
This is reinforced through the fact that what dramatic incident the film does provide all comes through the excesses and weaknesses of the human beings involved. A violent mutiny nearly destroys the space mission due to the fact that one them is a drunk, and has brought his alcohol on board the ship and gotten everyone else drunk and angry too. The petty and jealous Professor Dubius leads the whole world to deride and mock the efforts of the Planetaros family to the point where Avanti’s father is nearly driven to suicide.
(By the way–“Planetaros” and “Dubius”–yes, the movie’s didactic qualities extend to some of the character’s names. Even “Avanti” in Danish means “adventure.”)
Most hilariously, you get this scene when the human astronauts, in theory the best humanity has to offer, and having been on Mars for a couple of minutes, offer the vegetarian Martians some canned meat as a means of cultural exchange. Then, when the Martians wonder where they would have gotten food like this, the captain answers by pulling out his gun and shooting a bird dead right then and there. The space-goose just plummets out of the sky at the feet of the horrified Martians, who then panic. This causes one of the other humans (Avanti’s right hand man) to panic as well and so he quickly lobs a grenade at them!
It’s an outrageous sequence because it is so extreme and abrupt, but it highlights how much this film is focused on the points it wants to make: even the bravest and smartest of humans seem so quick to turn to violence to deal with their problems, and are in such need of the Martian gospel of peace and brotherhood. As a consequence of this, the astronauts do indeed renounce their weapons and return to earth changed men.
This still isn’t the end of the film’s messaging, however. After this there is an extended sequence that involves Avanti falling in love with Marya (the daughter of the Martian Elder) and vice versa, a process which involves things like the astronauts witnessing a “Dance of Chastity”, after which Avanti must sleep under the “Tree of Longing” to see who he dreams of. Surprising no one, he dreams of Marya and the “Forest of Love”, after which Marya reveals that this is a real place on Mars, where some very awkward though restrained “laying on of hands” proceeds to take place.
And then, maybe most of awesomely of all, when the Excelsior returns to earth, the sneering and bitter Professor Dubius ends up on a clifftop, cursing the ship and the success of the mission. A storm rages, and Dubius is struck by lightning and plummets down the cliffside to his death.
These sorts of insane story points make A Trip to Mars interesting to talk about and easier to remember, but they aren’t enough to make it actually fun to watch. Though I was impressed by the scale of the production, with crowds of people being seen both on Earth and on Mars, the film drags and meanders through its story because the priority is so obviously not to tell a gripping narrative, but to make its philosophies clear. And that almost never serves to make something genuinely watchable (or readable, or listenable, or whatever).
Although having said that, I thought the bit where Avanti’s sister Corona confronts the falsely-repentant Professor Dubius to be kind of awesome. When news of the Excelsior’s safe arrival back to earth breaks, he tries to act like actually he supported the mission all along, but Corona’s having none of that and calls him out for the toxic liar that he is.
There is also a nice bit where Corona’s lover, Dr. Krafft is desperate to get a message back to earth that they are still alive, so the Martians set off seven large signals which resemble to earth the constellation Corona Borealis. That give Corona and her father a measure of hope, and is a nice idea.
From a science fiction perspective, there isn’t much to say about the Martians themselves. They are just normal looking humans whose leaders look a bit like Orthodox priests, and whose general population just wear white toga-like outfits. Interestingly, like in A Message from Mars, the leaders also wear ankhs on their robes, although at the hem of their garments rather than around their necks.
More interesting is the Excelsior and the space journey. The ship itself is pretty funny looking, like a short, fat airplane, but I enjoyed the cramped, crowded interiors. It looks a lot more like a submarine than the wide hallways and expansive command centres that we’ve been used to since Star Trek.
There isn’t too much attention given to scientific realism in any way, but lip service is paid to a new energy source which allows the journey to Mars to be possible, and that journey still takes six long months. There is also one brief bit where people express concern that they will need special oxygen suits to survive on Mars (although this is followed by Dr. Krafft checking the conditions by opening the door and sticking his head outside, so there is that.)
I’ve heard it said that A Trip to Mars is the first ever space opera movie, and was Denmark’s first science fiction film. This latter distinction depends a bit on definitions, as another movie called The End of the World came out a couple of years earlier. But based on what I’ve read, in that one the “science fiction” elements are limited to the earth being devastated by a passing comet.
Whether The End of the World counts or not, A Trip to Mars was apparently the last Danish science fiction film until 1961’s Reptillicus, a movie so silly that the English language version became the focus of the first episode of the revived Mystery Science Theatre 3000 in 2017.
