If there was a Mount Rushmore for the 1970s In Search Of aesthetic, Richard Martin would be carved right into the granite alongside Leonard Nimoy and Sunn Classic Pictures. Following his deep dives into the Bermuda Triangle and Bigfoot, Martin took his cameras beneath the waves for The Lost City of Atlantis, a paranormal documentary that, today, would air on basic cable but, back in the day, you’d have to go to a theater or drive-in to see. Or you could wait and see it on a rainy Saturday afternoon on a UHF station. Today, just turn on YouTube.

Before the internet ruined everything with things like facts and sourced data, we had the glorious era of the theatrical documentary. These were movies that promised to solve the mysteries of the universe for the price of a matinee ticket and in return, you got a deep, authoritative voice telling you that everything you know is a lie and that Greek philosophers were actually talking about a high-tech continent that sank because they played God with crystal energy.

Come with us to Bimini Road in the Bahamas. We’re going to spend a lot of time underwater looking at limestone blocks and we’ll be told that they aren’t natural formations but rather the paved highways of a sunken empire. It’s the kind of photography that looks incredible on a big screen, but, when viewed today on a grainy YouTube upload, looks mostly like some very confused divers poked at some rocks while a synthesizer soundtrack tried to convince you that the fabled land of Mu was behind one of these reefs.

You can’t talk about Atlantis without bringing in the Sleeping Prophet Edgar Cayce. The film leans heavily into Cayce’s predictions that Atlantis would rise again in the late 60s. Sure, it didn’t happen. Or, did it? The movie tells us that we just aren’t looking hard enough. It’s a wonderful bit of narrative gymnastics that connects the pyramids of Egypt, the Mayan ruins, nd the deep ocean floor into one giant, cosmic conspiracy.

What makes this film so watchable today isn’t the science; it’s the vibe. It’s the grainy 16mm footage of experts with massive sideburns and turtlenecks sitting in wood-paneled offices, talking about things to come that never did.

You can watch this on YouTube.