(Note: I wrote this entry yesterday evening after work, but published it this morning. The perspective is from yesterday, June 15th.)
When I stopped by the dining area at work this morning, I noticed the agency's massive television playing yet another film through streaming and thought... we're blessed to have a television for our participants that comes with all manner of streaming services, from Disney+ to Amazon Prime Video to Netflix, all paid for by our management. But the film playing on the screen today gave me pause, as it was an old Disney cult favorite from the early 2000s.
The film in question was Atlantis: The Lost Empire, an animated cult-classic feature based on the mythological underwater city of Atlantis. I remember it being a film somewhat ahead of its time, especially for Disney; the animators used a blend of both hand-drawn and three-dimensionally rendered models to create a unique, archaic feel. And the film also featured some big-name actors in its cast, with the lead character Milo J. Thatch portrayed by veteran actor Michael J. Fox (something tells me part of the reason Fox was cast was because his first two initials match those of Milo's). Looking back, Milo's mannerisms and pattern of speech seem to reflect Fox's developing Parkinson's symptoms, and the portrayal was all the better for it in my opinion as it fit the scholarly, socially awkward vibe that defines the character. Another example of how a disability can end up bolstering creative expression on a level beyond the able-bodied.
Now, I've seen Atlantis several times -- my mom bought it for myself and my brother in VHS format one evening in early 2000 as a surprise while bringing in the groceries. Neither me nor my brother had the chance to see the film in theaters, so naturally we were excited. And we played the hell out of the movie, to the point where we would tell our extended family about it on visits. I remember both of us filling in a cousin of ours in Sacramento about the art style, the characters, and even the inside jokes behind some of the humor. Overall, I think it was the fact that most of the movie took place underwater and the sort of steampunk vibes all around that cemented the film as a favorite for both of us.
Fast forward to today, and I'm seeing the same film playing on our agency's huge widescreen set; one of our participants told me that today was the 25th anniversary of the release of Atlantis: The Lost Empire. I remembered coming across some news referring to an anniversary but double-checked it online just to be sure. And there it was: Atlantis is indeed 25 years old! It's really been that long?!
As with other Disney classics, my take on this particular film is a little different given all the things I've seen and learned since the VHS days (I was about 12 or 13 years old when I saw it on VHS). While A Bug's Life revealed itself as a stern lesson in capitalism and the illusion of power and The Hunchback of Notre Dame was a masterclass in exposing how religious authority all too often scapegoats and condemns what it doesn't understand, Atlantis: The Lost Empire now feels like a blunt look at the horror of colonialism and subtle environmental terrorism. The reason I say this is due to two things: the plot twist in which Milo learns that the entire crew he joined to find Atlantis was actually full of cutthroat mercenaries out for immense wealth, and the crew's goal -- spearheaded by their commanding officer -- involved imperiling an entire civilization.
The point on colonialism is pretty straightforward. Milo Thatch is an intrepid scholar with a nose for books, science, and linguistics, who has been gifted a rare find from his late grandfather Thaddeus: an ancient tome called the Shepherd's Journal, which holds the key to finding the lost continent of Atlantis, which sank to the bottom of the sea eons ago. The journal was entrusted to him by wealthy mariner Preston Whitmore, who offers Milo an opportunity to locate the fabled city out of a debt to Thaddeus and a means to help Milo out of his dead-end occupation as a repairman for a stubborn boiler at a museum; the museum's stewards had dismissed Milo's ambitions as lunacy, a trait they attributed to his grandfather -- Mr. Whitmore reveals that Thaddeus died a broken man due to the crushing ridicule he faced in his efforts to fund an expedition to find Atlantis.
Milo soon meets up with his traveling partners, the crew that will be joining him on the expedition. Each member of the crew had actually travelled with Thaddeus to find the Shepherd's Journal in Iceland, a fact which only further excited Milo. They are led by Commander Lyle Tiberius Rourke, a man of big stature and a close friend of Whitmore. Soon, the crew dives into the deep aboard the submarine Ulysses and has a run-in with a colossal sea guardian known as the Leviathan, a mechanical crustacean that protects the entrance to Atlantis. Despite its massive arsenal, Ulysses is no match for the Leviathan's advanced weaponry and is swiftly crippled and destroyed, taking much of the crew with it while a small group of survivors including Milo and Thaddeus's old crew just barely managing to escape. After taking a moment of silence for the immense loss of personnel, Milo and the crew eventually make it to Atlantis with the help of several Atlanteans after Milo earns their trust through speaking their language -- Milo extensively studied Atlantean during his bid to fund an expedition, and now he could put it good use.
The lead Atlantean, Princess Kida, implores her father, King Nedakh to assist Milo and Co. in their quest of exploration, but the monarch dismisses the lot and chastises Kida for bringing outsiders to the city's gates. As Milo is the only one of the crew who speaks Atlantean, Rourke suggests that Milo talk with Kida to soften the King up. Deep under the ocean, Kida reveals to Milo a colossal mural which depicts ancient phrases and a rather large source of energy -- Milo realizes that the energy source must be the Heart of Atlantis, which is described on a page missing from the Journal. Curious, Kida and Milo return to the kingdom's surface only to find Rourke and the crew waiting for them, armed to the teeth -- and it turns out Rourke had the missing page all along. Milo quickly deduces the true reason Rourke and the crew came along: they mean to collect the Heart of Atlantis, which is actually a powerful crystal, and auction it off to the highest bidder back on the surface world. Milo protests the idea, stating that the crystal is the sole source of power keeping the city of Atlantis and all of its people alive and that to take it to the surface would mean leaving Atlantis and its people to quickly die... which leans into the environmental terrorism aspect I mentioned earlier. Rourke, however, is unmoved by the prospect as his men take Kida into custody and barter her as a hostage to King Nedakh to force him to reveal the crystal's hiding place. Upon seeing the crystal surrounded by stone edifices of the Kings of Atlantis' Past, Kida is sudden drawn to the source and fuses with it, becoming a living humanoid crystal. Wounded from a fatal attack by Rourke, King Nedakh explains why he hid the Heart of Atlantis: the crystal itself is a living being that developed a consciousness as it grew over time. Through a symbiont link to Atlantis itself, the crystal became a guardian of sorts and would choose a host from royalty to defend the city from disaster in times of crisis. Due to King Nedakh's tampering with the crystal in the hopes of harnessing its power as a weapon of mass destruction, he triggered a cataclysm that threatened to obliterate Atlantis and in response the crystal chose his wife the Queen as a host to shield Atlantis as the city was condemned to the bottom of the sea... which could be construed as the consequences that a lust for war eventually brings upon the world.
King Nedakh explains that he hid the crystal to prevent Kida from suffering the same fate as his wife, as the Queen was eventually lost to the Heart of Atlantis. With his last breath, the monarch implores Milo to rescue Kida -- and in essence, to retrieve the crystal -- to save both her and Atlantis from extinction. The remainder of Thaddeus's old crew, understanding the true cost of seeking unlimited riches from the crystal's auctioning, decide to help Milo take Kida back from Rourke with the help of several Atlantean warriors with ancient knowledge; not because it was the smart thing, as Rourke and his brigands took no prisoners... but because it was the RIGHT thing.
Looking back, the crystal and its symbiont link to Atlantis, along with how Rourke and his brigands sought to likely "sell it to the kaiser", eerie echoes today's conversations about the climate crisis and human-made global warming. Over the decades, it's been proven that geopolitical conflicts and wars have damaged the atmosphere and the environment, as well as nations' dependence on fossil fuels -- in essence, environmental terrorism. In terms of the Middle East, I can recall how the so-called "War on Terror" was in many ways a front for legitimizing the plundering of oil reserves in Afghanistan and especially Iraq; one of the protests my family and I attended was chock-full of protesters with signs saying things like "No War for Oil" and "Bush Lies, People Die". Rourke and his mercenaries' determination to sell the crystal, which doubled at the prospect that it would kill Atlantis and its people, is reminiscent of how the invasion of Iraq came to pass despite overwhelming civilian backlash -- in fact, I remember Barbara Lee being the sole representative who voted against authorizing military action in Iraq solely because she feared the spoils and subsequent conflict would only create further wars.
Worse still, in the midst of the ill-declared "War on Terror", the secured oil reserves were a boon to the fossil fuel industry, which willingly shed its moral compass; my research revealed that since the 1960's, the fossil fuel industry was fully briefed by scientists on how further use of gas and oil would lead to a burning planet and an environmental catastrophe. Yet in spite of all that, the industry pressed forward, using its immense wealth and lobbying power to strongarm certain governments worldwide to bend to its will or lose their political influence. And as for the rest of society, well, they'd be treated like the people of the city of Atlantis; expendable, and a necessary sacrifice in the name of a twisted form of Darwinism. In fact, Rourke mentioned something very similar to Milo as he and his brigands made off with Kida/The Crystal in tow: "Get off your soapbox, Thatch. You've read Darwin, it's called natural selection. We're just... helping it along." And of course, it's not just American wars; nations worldwide have indulged in this contest of international smash-and-grab in opposition to the will of their citizens, and yet the leaders keep the profits of pillaged spoils among themselves and their proxies/allies instead of distributing it to their citizens. Such selfishness at the expense of innocent civilizations that committed no offense against their leadership is why indignant youth such as Greta Thunberg and a group of incredibly brave young Americans known as the Juliana 21 (who launched an epic ten-year lawsuit from 2015 to 2025 against the U.S. government for deliberately colluding with Big Oil in an act of social violence/murder against society, only for the current "Supremacist" Court to strike it down) stood up to call out the self-serving ideology of world leaders deliberately sacrificing a new generation to an uninhabitable planet solely to enrich themselves.
Again, it's really interesting how all these Disney films from the past carry messages that still resonate with the battles of today. Is that where the term "timeless classics" gets its meaning from? I don't know, but at least it puts to rest all those dismissive statements about how "cartoons don't teach you anything"; the animators who create cartoons -- and fictional storytellers from comics to prose novels for that matter -- all have some kind of lesson hidden in their work. And it doesn't have to be as clear as a moral of a story; sometimes even the work itself, be it the style, the time period it was published, or the length of time it took to create can send a message. We just have to be willing to know where and how to find it.
Food for thought. Peace and love to you all, and thanks for reading.
Nana
--"Jason Deroga"
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