It stopped me in my tracks. Literally, The First Film stopped me in my tracks. In 2015 I planned my annual trip to Paris and intended to take a high-speed train to visit the Lumiere museum in Lyon, home of the 'first film'. So I thought. Then I got wind of this intriguing story about the origin of moving images coming from, well, of all places. Silly, I know, but although of course I have no doubt the Lumiere museum is a wonderful treasure trove, it seemed it could take the edge off being it's true home. (I went to Nancy instead, home of Art Nouveau) The First Film is obviously a life's work and ambition, propelled by more than a dash of a desire to get to the truth, no matter how unpalatable that may be to those who have a view of history that is set in stone. It's a beautifully constructed piece of detective work and leads to many avenues and has many fascinating twists and turns, not so much of 'Who do you think you are' rather 'What links us to who we are'. Of course I will not reveal any details, but there is intrigue, mystery, revelations abound and dastardly deeds too and it comes with an added dash of unexpected humour which is not scripted and all the better for it. It's wide ranging in it's locations but yet so close to home that one can't help feel sorry for those who long for the romance of the French tales or the genius of the U.S.A. entrepreneur driven stories, and yet, and yet. Louis le Prince has by his own genius reached through time by turning money into light and in turn Mr. Wilkinson has mirrored him and shed light on history. History will judge and form it's own opinion, but David has added his own unique perspective to movie history and I am certain Louis and all of us will be grateful that someone cared for him and us.
