If the Dreyfus case had never happened, some writer undoubtedly would have invented it--so perfect is it for dramatic treatment. The case almost tore the Third Republic of France apart, involved at its height some of the most articulate men in modern history, and finally trailed off into an ending that was both touching and ludicrous. The movie Dreyfus, made in Germany in 1930, captures only some of the drama of the incident, mostly because it attacks the story with the somewhat unfocused view of a documentary.

The Dreyfus story is extremely complicated, and if it sometimes appears totally confused in the film, the script-writer can hardly be blamed. The affair began in 1894, when some secret French defense plans leaked into German hands. The commanders of the French army picked Captain Alfred Dreyfus, the only Jew on the General Staff, to take the blame, and after and absurd court-martial sent him to Devil's Island. Eventually, of course, the novelist Emile Zola came to his aid, with the result that the Captain finally received his freedom and the award of a Legion of Honor for all his pains.

The movie is vivid enough when it deals with the large, abstract issues of the case--the corruption of justice, anti-Semitism, and the moral vacuum of French society at the turn of the century. But when it tries to depict the people involved, the result is often ludicrous. At times, as when Dreyfus lumbers across the parade ground where he has just been stripped of his rank and yells "I'm innocent," at the top of his lungs, the picture seems almost embarassing. The fault here is that of Fritz Kortner, who plays Dreyfus. His acting style is so restrained that he just does not register any sort of emotion. Heinrich George, as Zola, has the same trouble; his performance consists almost entirely of grunts and a flood of impassioned but unconvincing oratory. Only one actor, the great German performer Albert Basserman, manages to bring his character to life. In the role of an officer who believes in Dreyfus' innoccence, he plays with a dignity that is entirely effective.

But the acting is probably not the main reason why Dreyfus is not quite satisfactory today, though it was once bailed as a classic. The picture is, after all, a quarter of a century old. By modern standards, the technical facilities available to Richard Oswald, the producer and director, were extremely crude, and he did the best he could with them. Futhermore, Oswald's decision to make a picture about anti-Semitism was an act of considerable moral courage in the Germany of 1930. When Hitler came to power three years later, the film was banned. Therefore, despite its shortcomings as drama, Dreyfus still has enough historical value to be intensely interesting. THOMAS K. SCHWABACHER