The fascinating power of the first attempts at analyzing the movement of bodies. In what time are we being immersed? Time that stops, that tears at itself? That accelerates to what degree? The first cinematic bodies, our bodies, are manhandled by erosion, by exhaustion from scenes that are too unexpected. An entire world suddenly disappears, to be replaced by another. In the speed, one is lost: uncontrolled infatuation with montage. Sublime but fragile inaugural figures.