In one of time's ironies, the compression and expansion of the decayed frames has served to unite the film's form to its content.

An analogy for success as an artist, and a damn funny one at that.

The twist of the light switch brings the black curtain of night in which a vision of Santa Claus arises like an iris. Beautiful.

Whether the ship is Greek or Turkish is unclear, but I imagine it is Greek as it would be appropriate to find that from the very beginning of cinema, Greeks have fought against the "cannon". How fitting that the attack comes from the direction of the audience. The Greeks may have lost this battle, but they don't give up the fight, just ask Dimitris.

Defying all logic of time, the waves these two girls play in would wash up in France forty five or so years later and be called "new".

Is it strange to be so pleased by this recorded sneeze? Considering the many sneezers history's forgot, it's easy to be pleased in seeing Fred Ott's not.

A young woman with her arms listless by her side eyes a young man walking briskly, purposefully, by, head slightly bowed, almost intent on not noticing. She turns her back on him and allows her head to droop as she turns towards an older couple cavorting merrily. Do they foreshadow what could still be? An ironic counter point? Or are they moving towards their own past in this counterclockwise cycle of romance?

A prescient metaphor for the next 120+ years of moviemaking as the primary concern of most film producers would indeed be "passing the hat".

It seems entirely appropriate that the second movie ever made in the US would be a sequel... ;)