Mototo: Watching the past through a dusty lens

Is it worth your time?

If you're a fan of old-timey footage or have a weird interest in the history of cameras, sure, give it a go. But if you're looking for that polished, narrated nature documentary experience where a smooth voice explains every single migration pattern, you’re going to be bored to tears. It’s definitely not for the modern viewer who needs quick cuts and high-stakes drama.

Seriously, this is ancient stuff.

The whole thing feels like you've stumbled into a dusty attic and found a projector that hasn't been turned on since your grandpa was a kid. You get a lot of shots of hippos just… standing there. Or sitting there. It’s very still. Sometimes they’re in the water, sometimes they’re just being big, gray lumps.

There's this one shot of a vulture that lasts for an eternity. It’s just staring off-camera, looking grumpy, while the film grain dances all over the screen. You can almost hear the camera whirring in the background of the silence. It’s hypnotic, but in a way that makes you wonder if the film got stuck.

Comparing this to The Cameraman is like comparing a bicycle to a space shuttle, but you can feel that same early excitement of just wanting to capture something on film. Kearton wasn't trying to make a statement; he was just showing people things they’d never see in their local village.

The leopards look particularly blurry, which is probably for the best because they’re definitely not waiting around to be filmed. You see a zebra, then a giraffe, then another zebra. It’s not exactly a tightly woven narrative.

Some of the scenes have that weirdly empty feeling, like the animals are confused about why a guy with a giant box on a tripod is hanging out in their living room. 🦁

I found myself zoning out and just looking at the landscape. It’s wild to think this was the absolute peak of technology at the time. No, it doesn't have the tension of The Ghost Breaker, but it’s got its own strange, quiet energy.

If you watch this, don't try to look for a plot. There isn't one. It’s just a guy, a camera, and a lot of animals that couldn't care less about his project. It’s imperfect and feels completely unfiltered.

Maybe that’s why I didn't turn it off.