This epic German science fiction classic has long been a prime wanna-see item; all we saw previously was a terrible-quality copy of its English-language version. The Murnau Foundation’s restoration is terrific in all departments. Although not a world-shattering film like Metropolis, it’s an impressive production. The designs, cinematography and especially the sets are eye-opening.
Kino gives us both the German-language original F.P. 1 Doesn’t Answer and its concurrently-filmed English export version, Secrets of F.P. 1. They were produced just before Hitler came to power, so are still technically Weimar era pictures. In 2016 Kino and the Murnau Stiftung gave us the other German sci-fi classic of the early talkie period, Gold, also by director Karl Hartl and also starring Hans Albers. Made in 1934, it’s a Nazi-controlled production, with a more propagandistic bias.
F.P. 1 Doesn’t Answer is at heart a celebration of German aviation superiority. The movie begins with a high-flying musical sequence in the clouds, and pauses twice more for songs about aviation, one cheery, one not. Silent-style expressionist montages show the progress of an amazing futuristic construction, with details meant to convince all that German technology is the best in the world. Add to that Kurt Siodmak’s fantastic-yet-perfectly-logical sci-fi premise, and the show is guaranteed to nab the same audience fascinated by the decade’s epic about a futuristic transatlantic tunnel, Curtis Bernhardt’s Der Tunnel (1933). It was also filmed in a French version, and in 1935 remade in an English version with Richard Dix, Transatlantic Tunnel.
The futuristic gimmick here is an artificial island-airport positioned at a mid-Atlantic crossroads between Europe, the U.S., South America and Africa. It will serve as a midway refueling stop — flying non-stop across the ocean was still risky business in 1932. The idea was briefly given seriously consideration; it might actually have come to pass, had engineers not felt that airplanes would soon have more range and be more reliable. And who wants to haul all that aviation fuel out into the ocean?
Screenwriter Kurt Siodmak is of course Curt Siodmak, who would emigrate to America, work on a number of Universal horror films (The Wolf Man, The Invisible Man Returns, etc.) and author the frequently-adapted science fiction novel Donovan’s Brain. His co-scenarist Walter Reisch also made the jump to Hollywood, and wrote or co-wrote many favorite entertainments: Ninotchka, Gaslight, Titanic ’53, Journey to the Center of the Earth. Promoted as a futuristic thriller, F.P. 1 Doesn’t Answer has more the feeling of an ’empire building’ yarn. The footloose and impulsive showboat aviator Flieger Ellissen (matinee idol Hans Albers) wants to promote his buddy Droste (Paul Hartmann), so he fakes a crime to bring attention to Droste’s revolutionary Floating Platform. The designs have been languishing unread at the Lennartz Shipyard because the Lennartz brothers would rather gamble at casinos. Their sister (and co-owner) Claire (Sybille Schmitz) has more vision. With publicity from Ellissen’s reporter-photographer buddy Johnny (Peter Lorre), Droste’s plans are enthusiastically adopted. Claire is overjoyed that her company will be building the futuristic Flugplatform but dismayed when the handsome Flieger ignores her overtures and runs away to pursue another aviation stunt, a round-the-world flight.
The enormous artificial island is built, even though its engineer (and Captain) Droste worries about possible sabotage from unnamed competitors. With Ellissen out of the picture, Claire and Droste grow close — she identifies with his more responsible ambitions. Two years later Flieger Ellissen has resurfaced, a poor and broken man who says he’ll never fly again. The magnificent F.P. 1 is finished. Depite its top-secret status, newshound Johnny has stowed away as part of the crew, so as to be the first to document its triumph.
Before any planes can land the feared sabotage strike occurs. Back in Germany, Claire and her brothers listen over the wireless to Droste’s gunfight with the lone saboteur. Then the line goes dead: F.P. 1 doesn’t answer! Claire decides that only Flieger Ellissen is qualified to fly her to the Platform, and to shake him from his depression lets him think she’s still interested in him romantically. They locate the Platform only to find a complete disaster. The crew has been gassed and is unconscious. The Platform is sinking — the seawater valves have been opened. The situation looks hopeless — there’s no way of summoning help, and no fuel oil for the motors that can close the sea valves. Droste is wounded, and the reawakened crew is near mutiny!
Although its drama is weak — the aviation-happy pilot doesn’t appreciate Claire’s love — the character conflicts in F.P. 1 Doesn’t Answer function well enough to bolster the fanciful plot. The formula has been repeated in sci-fi movies ad infinitum: as soon as a sensational new invention is completed, something goes wrong and a disaster formula takes over. F.P. 1 works like clockwork until the final act. With just twenty hours before the enormous Platform will sink, a strange defeatism sinks in and the forward momentum stops. Only after Ellissen snaps out of his romantic disillusion does he sieze the incentive to solve the problem and save the day.
Even with its musical detours and slow finale the show works great. Sci-fi fans especially will like the way the Floating Platform is depicted. The finished product is represented by excellent, extremely convincing sets, and a (partial) full-sized flight deck set constructed on Greifswalder Oie. Especially convincing are the Platform’s enormous float-pilings, constructed like a full-sized pier.
The model work is mostly excellent as well. In wide shots the Platform is a big white slab surrounded by waves. The only criticism I can make is that the angles look exactly like the early ‘artist’s renderings’ in designer Droste’s plan book.
Star Hans Albers plays the pilot hero in a happy-go-lucky way and doesn’t wear out his welcome. He’s huge, so whether in a tuxedo or flying rig he looks like a big walking refrigerator. Paul Hartmann is excellent as the designer-turned Platform captain. He wins Claire by being serious and dependable. He’s the one to fight the saboteur and is the only one still trying to keep his creation from sinking.
Sybille Schmitz turns up in a number of still-remembered classics: Dreyer’s Vampyr, Frank Wisbar’s Fahrmann Maria and Josef Göbbels curious Nazi version of Titanic. She’s routinely slammed as a terrible actress, but I think she’s fine for the requirements of this show. Her love for Ellissen feels as real as her disappointment when he stupidly runs out on her. Ms. Schmitz is an interesting, tragic film personality, as I learned in the extras on Criterion’s Veronika Voss disc.
Peter Lorre fans will want to take a look as well. Lorre would make four more pictures before the Nazis purged Jews from their film industry. He made twelve German films after Fritz Lang’s “M” but this is the only one I’ve seen. ‘Magazine Reporter Johnny’ serves as a partial sidekick and humorous punching bag for Ellissen; he’s known as the flyer’s personal PR representative. Although Johnny sneaks aboard the Platform he hasn’t much to do except point out the Platform’s missing oil stores. He has no role in the mutiny attempt, and pretty much drops out of sight when Ellissen no longer needs someone to insult and humiliate.
With little of substance to play Lorre simply ‘makes up’ a character on his own. Johnny rarely gets a chance to smile; he’s always being fooled by the self-important, unappreciative Ellissen. A typical scene has the flyer waxing pompous while Johnny sits forlornly, with those big sad, uncomprehending eyes. At this stage Lorre looks more than a little heavy; his hair is blonde. His role doesn’t amount to much but he makes the most of it.
The screenplay celebrates good German heroes, even the irresponsible, adventure-loving Ellissen. It hasn’t quite the same anti-English propaganda hatred we noted in Karl Hartl’s Gold of two years later. These crooked foreign conspirators are so vile, they doublecross their own agent and leave him to die on the ocean. They first appear as shadows, and then as a couple of executives dressed in conservative suits. They could be English, but of course they speak German in the context of the movie, so the question is unanswered.
If F.P. 1 Doesn’t Answer disappoints it’s because it doesn’t deliver the kinds of retribution we now expect in our disaster-crime movies. The hero never gets to punch out the saboteur, or riddle him with bullets. We don’t know what happens to the saboteur, or for that matter, the crew that deserts the sinking Platform. We never even get a parting shot of Peter Lorre’s Johnny, looking happy at the way things turned out. If the movie were made now, the corporate creeps that tried to sink the Platform would at least be arrested, if not shot down like dogs. Think of Die Hard where the curtain can’t fall until every lovable supporting character gets to hit a villain, even if only a troublemaking reporter.
The picture does contain one scene that brings an inadvertent chill to the spine. Early on we’re shown a schematic of F.P. 1’s modern sprinkler system, for fire prevention. When Ellissen and Droste are trying to determine how one lone saboteur could render the whole crew unconscious all at once, the camera tilts up to the ceiling — to show that the fire sprinklers were used to spread knockout gas through the entire ship. The sight of the water pipes and nozzles is an unpleasant pre-echo of the mass-murder gas chambers constructed not ten years later.
