Forty-three years before Marty McFly, and 18 before the 1960 adaptation of H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine, this wartime science fiction film from Hungary displayed many of the time travel conventions we take for granted today.

Entered into the Mussolini-controlled (and since voided) 10th Venice Film Festival, the film enraged the Nazi organisers with what was perceived as anti-German sensibilities, however when looked upon with modern eyes it is an inventive sci-fi which is more about crowd pleasing than political subtext.

Set in the contemporary 1940s, László Szilassy stars as Count Tibor Ákos, an adventurous Hungarian nobleman who answers a fanciful newspaper ad by a scientist (Elemér Baló). One he arrives, it’s revealed that the professor has invented a craft that can travel faster than the speed of the Earth’s rotation, making time travel possible. Volunteering for the first flight, the professor takes the count to the Habsburg Empire of the 18th Century, where he falls for an Italian singer (Katalin Karády) and clashes with the upper classes of the time.

While certainly not the first film to feature time travel, the film is surely one of the earliest examples of its tropes. A futuristic craft (named Sirius), an eccentric scientist, the establishing of time travel rules (Tibor cannot alter historical events), and many more familiar elements of the subgenre are present in a way that makes it accessible even if you are not familiar with the historical context.

Baló is a terrific lead, whose matinee idol charm strides past even the most implausible elements of the plot (he comes to the professor from a costume party, where he just so happened to be wearing an 18th Century soldier’s uniform). His chemistry with Karády is also compelling, making the film work best as a sweeping romance with interesting twists, such as the count accidentally “predicting” events that haven’t happened yet in the time he is in.

Where it perhaps hasn’t aged as well is in moments where Tibor confronts the political situation of the past. His disdain of Austrian royalty, and his suspicion of German nobility were all seen as cleverly veiled jabs at Hungary’s alliance with Nazi Germany, hinting that the past should have informed viewers that their current allegiances were a bad idea. With the benefit of hindsight, the message is an obvious one, and delivered too lightly to have any real impact.

Nonetheless, with spectacular visuals for the time and an entertaining premise, Sirius is an enjoyable ancestor of the sci-fi hits that would follow it, with some flawed but laudable morals laying beneath the spectacle.

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