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ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE: Animated. Voices by Michael J. Fox, Cree Summer, James Garner. Directed by Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise. (PG. 88 minutes. At Bay Area theaters.)
The villain in the new animated Disney movie "Atlantis: The Lost Empire" is Commander Rourke, a thrill-seeking plunderer who resents his mercenary label. "I'm an adventure capitalist," he snivels to Milo, the plucky young linguist (voiced by Michael J. Fox) who has brought him and his crew many leagues under the sea looking to unearth the title civilization.
The rippling, authoritative cadences of Rourke's voice belong to James Garner. The kids might not be aware, but their parents will know: As a hulking, cunning bully, Garner is playing against type. So is the studio that hired him.
At sea level, "Atlantis" is a Disney ride-or-die cartoon frolic featuring anachronistic, speaker-bruising action sequences; cross-cultural boy-girl woo pitch; and a shelfload of cuddly supporting types, not the least of whom is the anti-hygienic Peter Lorre-like critter called Mole (Corey Burton).
But just beneath the surface, "Atlantis" brims with adult possibility. The studio appears to be weaning its elementary-school set off the freewheeling, irony-swilling potlucks of "Hercules," "The Emperor's New Groove" and the Robin Williams areas of "Aladdin," with sheer force of visual panache and keen storytelling.
"Atlantis" was directed by Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise, the tag team behind "Beauty and the Beast" and "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." And in a change of pace, they've left the singing and dancing for an inevitable Broadway version. The emphasis here is less on cuteness and romance and more on the "Raiders of the Lost Ark"-style adventure.
The film opens with an invasion sequence depicting Atlantis' ruin that reminds you that Disney does "Phantom Menace" better than George Lucas. Later, the gorgeous Atlantan princess Kida (Cree Summer) shares a childhood flashback in which the sky goes dark, people flee, cataclysm approaches and suddenly her memories look as if they've been produced by Jerry Bruckheimer.
Kida's city, of course, was devoured by a tidal wave and hidden from view until Milo et al. find it. For years, the good, forgotten people of Atlantis --
a population of crypto-Mayan/Afro-Caribbean silver-haired gym-toned polyglots -- have been thriving off a supply of crystals that are the lost empire's source of power and medicine. The crystals are also the key to Atlantis' legacy, the bridge between its day-glo-colored future and its doomed past. Naturally, Commander Rourke sees their market potential.
Kida brings Milo and the shipwrecked crew to her father and king (Leonard Nimoy). He smells the imperialist tomb-raiding possibilities and asks them to leave. Rourke convinces the king to grant his posse a stay, and soon he's got the crystals and is headed up to the surface.
The average 6-and-under Disneyphile might have to work overtime, what with the subtitles (for a language that sounds like coffeehouse Klingon), the endearingly drab oceanic-safari color palette and lack of gratuitous flourishes.
The typical elements are here: the distaff heroism of "Mulan," the passive- aggressive sexual overtures of "Tarzan," the parent-kid melodrama of "The Lion King," the songlessness of, well, that's basically unprecedented. But the tempo doesn't get cranked up to "theme park" until the big climax, leaving time for disappointed kids to lean over and inquire about why they aren't laughing.
The temporary answer is that life's answers aren't solved in acutely ironic asides, overproduced show tunes and Happy Meal tie-ins. But in the meantime, what's a cynical 10-year-old cruising for light carnivalesque winking to do? The "Atlantis" reply appears to be "let them eat 'Shrek.' "
