For today's new film experience, I came very close to selecting the oldest possible film with A Trip to the Moon. Originally released in 1902 as a silent, black and white film, Georges Méliès's work has been reissued and tinkered with multiple times. My selection criteria for which version to watch was essentially "hey, this is the thing that popped on the Netflix home page, why not." Because of this, I ended up watching a restoration of the previously obscure hand-colored version with a synth-y soundtrack courtesy of Air.
Because of the iconic nature of several of this movie's scenes and its place in the very beginning of the history of movies, I wasn't really able to watch this in the way that I would normally watch a movie. Instead, I grinned and smirked my way through its brief 15 minute runtime, treating it as a historical oddity and taking note of some of its zanier visual flourishes. There isn't much to talk about here in terms of plots and themes, anyways, other than to note that this depiction of human explorers that immediately rush to kill alien lifeforms within seconds of first encountering them can be seen as a wry commentary on our shitty propensity to solve many of our problems with violence.
Here are some lazily stitched together notes that I took while watching this movie:
"Cool, there is a company called 'Lobster Films!'
"Why are those wizards dancing and yelling at each other? Their robes are pretty cool."
"Beard leader guy is struggling to quell the dissension simmering in his ranks."
"This rocket-building montage is accompanied by sick industrial tunes. Those flight attendants (rocket attendants?) with yellow hats are wearing short shorts."
"That moon has a face. Those stars have faces. That sun looks like a pinwheel."
"The moon is red now. This red part of the moon has a sick baseline."
"Umbrellas cause explosions. Also, that wizard just used wrestling to overthrow the aliens' system of governance."
"Space colonialism parade!"