Two young officers, Saint-Avit and Morhange, get lost in the desert and find themselves prisoners of the beautiful Antinéa, queen of the city of Atlantis. Saint-Avit, blinded by his love for her, obeys her when she orders him to kill his comrade... With L’Atlantide, Pabst offers a psychoanalytic reading of Benoit’s novel, with a dominant female figure who enslaves her lovers before destroying them. The film’s fantasy dimension is disturbing, L’Atlantide bathes in a humid nightmare atmosphere, between the desperate search for a missing friend and the apparitions of an underworld lost in the desert. A long, discursive flashback suggests the Parisian origins of Antinéa, born from the marriage between Clémentine, a pretty, light-thighed French Cancan dancer, and an Arab prince seduced during a theatrical performance. But again, it's impossible to know whether these are the ramblings of an old alcoholic or the strange truth.

Else Riedel (Lissy Arna), locked out by her authoritarian father, seeks refuge with her boyfriend Hans. Complications threaten when Hans's roommate Max falls in love with her, but the situation is resolved: the three remain friends, and decide to form a music hall act. They want to ascend, but how? A way out beckons when a theatrical agent named Nevin enters Else’s life. He is played by Hubert von Meyerinck as a slick and oily villain, who oozes refinement; his experience behind bars is waved away with a silk scarf. He is cunning to the point of perfidiousness, but is not completely unsympathetic. He also embodies a new type - the scrounger.

An unknown guest checks into an obscure hotel. He is a burly but well-dressed gentleman carrying an umbrella and a tree frog in a glass. This man spends most of his time wandering the hallways and staircases of the inn, ostensibly to hunt for flies to feed his pet. But quite obviously, there is more to it than that: the man also listens at doors and peeks through their keyholes.

If watching a fellow facing indifference/rejection in the slums of Berlin didn't convey enough pathos, Gerhard Lamprecht gathered much of the same crew from Die Verrufenen and turned his attention to the city's population of unwanted children for the heart-tugging Die Unehelichen, released the following year. The trio of foster children at the center of Die Verrufenen are survivors who use their own resourcefulness to get by when the kids' guardians and the system itself let them down.

It was not just the children who were treated badly by the wealthy Weimar republic. Robert Kramer is released from prison but struggles to adjust to civilian life. His father disowns him, his wife has left him for another man. There is no work. He eventually arrives in a shelter for the homeless, and seeks salvation through Emma, a prostitute.

In 1807 Prussia, Napoleon supporter Baron von Schranden forces his maid Regine to lead the French enemy across “Cat’s Bridge”, up behind a corps of Prussian volunteers who the French then decimate. In retaliation for this betrayal, the people of Schranden set the lord’s castle on fire. When the baron’s son Boleslav returns to the village a Prussian war hero in 1813, he is faced with a self-righteous village community that has denied his late father a decent burial. Regine is Boleslav’s only ally, and Boleslav is Regine’s only ally. The conflict escalates, and the villagers set up an ambush for him at Cat’s Bridge …

Sándor Barinkay joins the gypsies en route to his home village hiding his real identity as an Hungarian nobleman, whose parents were sent to exile. He claims his former properties, now taken by a pig merchant who plays the fool to the villagers' delight. Yet this man has an interesting daughter, and there's also the beautiful gypsy Saffi to consider. And a family hidden treasure to be found.