When I was young, there were six movies that I would watch constantly: the Star Wars trilogy, The 7th Voyage of Sinbad, Cheetah (yeah, I don’t understand either), and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Aside from Cheetah, these movies had two things in common: they provided great adventures, and they took place in locations I could only have dreamed of visiting. But 20,000 Leagues is unique, and for a Disney film it is unique in a surprising way. Instead of featuring good guys fighting obvious bad guys, it blurs the line between hero and villain. By doing so and by being set in a place which, in the film's time frame, is beyond the reach of mankind, the movie becomes an adventure not only of geographic exploration but of moral exploration, an adventure beyond the established codes of society.

Through a series of unfortunate events, a nineteenth-century Professor, Pierre Arronax (Paul Lukas); his assistant, Conseil (the ever-strange-looking Peter Lorre); and a macho sailor ironically named Ned Land (Kirk Douglas) find themselves on board a vessel the likes of which the world has never seen: a submarine. It is helmed by the seemingly mad Captain Nemo, who is, in his own words, "not what is called a 'civilized' man." He explains, "I have done with society for reasons that seem good to me. Therefore, I do not obey its laws." Nemo, a past escapee from a treacherous prison camp, has discovered the secret of "the veritable dynamic power of the universe" and with the help of a dozen or so fellow escapee shipmates has used that energy to build and power the world's only submersible vessel, thus creating for himself a perfect, self-sustained existence. Everything Nemo and his crew eat, drink, and smoke comes from the sea. He quickly befriends the esteemed Professor, but when the captain destroys a ship of prison camp slave drivers, leaving them all to drown, the three visitors begin to reevaluate their opinions of Nemo.

This act sparks the core theme of 20,000 Leagues: the confrontation of moral ambiguity. Land and Conseil, unaware of Nemo's background and the wrongdoings of those killed on the ship he attacked, naturally turn against him at this point, but even Arronax, who knows the reasoning behind Nemo's act, disapproves of the killing. Nemo, for his part, obviously believes that the killed men deserved their punishment. Having established a life outside the bounds of civilization, he is left to form his own laws of morality and justice, laws that Arronax et al. once believed were absolute. Viewers are left to form their own opinions.

As the upright, heroic, confident harpooner, Land presents the other side of the film’s thematic coin: Just as there are people whose actions may be morally ambiguous, there are also those who are blinded by the belief that the world is a simple place. Nemo describes Land as "a hero in the best tradition of cheap fiction," and his description highlights the fact that Land is driven by a decidedly civilized, and therefore unrealistic, world view. His naïve understanding of morality ultimately leads to an atrocity greater, arguably, than the results of Nemo’s actions, as Land conspires to alert the Navy to the vessel’s destination. While none of the main characters feel comfortable with Nemo’s actions, Arronax at least comes to understand that there are noble intentions beneath them. Land’s flaw is that he assumes there is nothing more to know than that which he understands. In this way, his name, “Land,” is no longer ironic but fitting: he has the morals of a landlocked man, a man who subscribes to clear-cut rules of right and wrong.

Part of the genius of 20,000 Leagues is that, though it delves to morally murky depths, it opens with, and often returns to, a typical Disney-naïve tone. In that way, it catches viewers off-guard. There are clean-cut sailors singing together with barbershop quartet-style harmonies, there’s constant comedic relief in Conseil’s perpetual puppy face and timid nature, and there’s even a seal trained to give kisses. Because of the overall happy-go-lucky tone created by these elements of the film, the ambiguities of Nemo’s character become all the more striking. In such an otherwise simple world, he is a guy with a sense of right that differs from that of society. The fun nature of the movie also works functionally, preventing viewers from being bombarded with abrasive moral uncertainty. This is one of those rare instances in which a film's naïveté enhances its effectiveness.

It takes a good actor to portray the opaque Nemo, and for the most part James Mason does it well. He never betrays an ounce of emotion except for the one or two instances in which is supposed to. Indeed, before viewers witness his explanation of his actions to Arronax, it is impossible to determine the nature of his intentions. His air of authority never betrays a weakness, even when he is being dragged off his vessel by a giant squid. It seems, though, that Mason's acting talent may consist only of his ability to play a strong, emotionless character. When he comes under verbal attack by Arronax for killing the sailors aboard the slave ship, he is allowed a brief emotional outburst. Unfortunately, he blurts, "Youcallthat murder?!" like a drunken ... sailor. For the vast portion of the film that the captain is meant to be stalwart, though, Mason upholds Nemo’s emotional shell unfalteringly.

Director Richard Fleischer does a superb job of giving 20,000 Leagues an adventurous feel. When Arronax first boards the submersible, unbeknownst to the crew, which has gone into the water to bury a fellow shipmate, he gazes in awe at the view of the ocean floor from the captain's quarters. Even when the returning crew has obviously spotted him, Conseil can hardly pull him away from the window to try to escape. When Conseil and Land later join the crew on a hunting/harvesting expedition, the focus is not on the expedition itself but on its novelty. We watch the characters stumble and lose buoyancy in this never-before encountered environment, and the camera frequently cuts away from them to look at the sea life. When we see divers carrying sea turtles back to the ship, the focus is not on the capture but on the turtles' beauty. All of this enhances the film's theme of delving into the unknown, a venture shown to be not only enlightening but beautiful.

When I was young and watching this movie on at least a monthly basis, I could never figure out whether I was supposed to like Captain Nemo or dislike him. Now, watching the film for the first time in almost twenty years, the reason for that is obvious: there is no specific way we're supposed to feel about Nemo. Whatever we do feel in that regard, though, can reveal something about ourselves. It is something of a Rorschach test, but even more than that, it is an exploration of morality and a depiction of the beauty of such moral crises. I would consider myself a fairly morally traditional individual, but at the same time I often find myself doubting the veracity, on a fundamental basis, of the moral truths I have come to accept. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea illustrates that such mystery need not be distressing but can be exciting and even beautiful. Just like the ocean, there are vast depths of human morality that have not been fully explored. I don’t know whether they will ever be fully mapped out, but I do know that the process of mapping them is plenty rewarding enough.