Badwolf57

Often cited as the first example of a film in the Science Fiction genre, Le Voyage dans la Lune (1902) (English: A Trip to the Moon), is nothing short of impressive considering the elementary state of film-making at the beginning of its history. Based upon then contemporary Science-Fiction novels: From the Earth to the Moon (1865) and First Men on the Moon (1901) by authors Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, Le Voyage dans la Lune found success by combining elements of parody and pastiche with a firm narrative not seen before in film. Director Georges Méliès, who also must take credit as writer, producer, production designer/art director and star of the film, was a former magician and illusionist who was no stranger to the entertainment business. After a brief spell recording what the Lumiere brothers referred to as "actualités," (non-narrative, documentary-like shorts that captured the everyday activities of contemporary society) Méliès applied his craft to the camera, thus introducing theatricality to the art of film-making. As well as advancing techniques in areas such as production design, special effects, and early editing, the film pioneer took cinema to new heights when he recognized the storytelling ability of the medium.

Indeed, Le Voyage dans la Lune illustrates in 8-14 minutes (depending on the fps) what it would take a modern film of the same plot and premise an hour and a half to show. The film begins on a rather prestigious yet playful note when it opens on a conference of astronomers, whose deep and often physical discussion involves traveling to the moon. When a colleague proposes a cylindrical capsule be built and shot out of a cannon directed at the face of the moon, all but one scholar readily agrees. After a bout of arguing, which results in books being thrown at the dissenter's head, the astronomers continue with their plans, seeing out the construction of both craft and cannon. Upon take-off, the bullet-shaped projectile makes a rather short journey before crash landing into the amused moon's eye. Once grounded, the enthusiastic astronomers (now accomplished astronauts), set out to explore the extraterrestrial terrain, where they encounter the rather agile natives, the Selenites.

To complement this inspired narrative, Méliès created an intricate production design, complete with constructed sets, complimentary props and painted backdrops. Adding to the illusion is the elaborate, but satirical costumes, which include the long flowing robes and pointy hats of the astronomers (more like a wizard's attire than a scholarly scientist's), and the provocatively jazzy outfits of the female "manservants," who look more like line of chorus girls than a group of eager assistants. All this combines to create delightfully dreamlike locations, whose inhabitants are simple, but comical characters that heighten the viewer's interest and make the movie absolutely enjoyable to watch.

Although all action unfolds before an immobile camera on sets that act as "stages," the film itself is anything but stagnant. The various special effects displayed more than make up for this limitation. Using such techniques as stop-motion, animation, multiple exposures, superimposition, and substitution editing, Méliès created an impressive array of surprisingly sophisticated and seamless "effects" to awe the audience with. It might very well be that Méliès, being the magician he was, wrote the narrative around the visual artifices, emphasizing film's capacity to "trick" the viewer by creating alternate realities. Either way, Le Voyage dans la Lune is a spectacular practice in special effects, with a simple, but engaging story and fantastical mise-en-scene that adds up to an extremely entertaining experience.

Recommended to both Science Fiction and Fantasy film enthusiasts who wish to see the origins of their beloved genre in film. I also recommend it to anyone who considers themselves connoisseurs of film.

At just under a minute, L'Arrivée d'un train à La Ciotat (1895) is one of Louis Lumiere's earliest excursions into film-making. As was formulaic with what he called "actualités," or non-narrative shorts, Louis Lumiere set up his cinematographe (a portable crank-handled camera that triples as a film projector and developer) at such an accomplished angle as to catch the arrival of a train at La Ciotat, where it captures the bustling comers-and-goers of the station who happen to stray in front of the lens, looking altogether curious, or else wary of the unfamiliar contraption. The crowd seems lively enough, but just for good measure, Lumiere's refined wife and mother-in-law can be seen actively searching for an imaginary, but eagerly expected passenger.

As uninteresting as it is (and it IS, even for the most pretentious film buff), L'Arrivée d'un train à La Ciotat's historical appeal is undeniable, if not legendary. The film's effect upon its first public viewing is a well-worn myth told to enthusiastic film students by their professors. Apparently, initial audiences, unaware of film's capacity to fully imitate reality, fled in fear of the image of a train barreling down upon the screen. The French newspaper, Le courrier du centre, (July 14, 1896) alleged the advancing locomotive made "spectators draw back instinctively fearing they'd be run over by the steel monster." Nevertheless, such a widespread and instantaneous physical response seems foolish or naïve even then, especially when the projector would have been visible and the sound audible to all seated in what at that time passed as a "theater." In reality, it is far more likely that this incident was limited to a few isolated cases, and was later exaggerated to enhance its appeal and boost the film's reputation. Consequently, the commerciality of the venture succeeded with tremendous results. Over a hundred years later, not only is L'Arrivée d'un train à La Ciotat a cinematic icon, but proof of how powerful and impressionable moving pictures could (and would) become.

Recommended for those with an interest in film as an art form, or for those looking for early examples of film in history.