This 90-minute 2019 film is entirely composed of restored archival footage of the Apollo 11 mission to the moon, plus a brilliant Matt Morton score. There are no talking heads and there’s no narration. The footage does it all, aided only by occasional captions (in irritatingly tiny size) and a diagrammatic representation of the mission.

It is properly breathtaking.

The opening sequence of the rocket rolling to the launch pad was, to me at least, redolent of childhood memories of Thunderbirds. The footage was so startlingly clear and bright that it is hard to believe that it’s over half a century old.

The film seemed to me to capture the daring of the mission, the tension at each crucial stage, along with a little of the humanising gallows humour. But it also showed something of the 1960s, of the societal impact of the space programme, and of the theatrics of the whole endeavour.

The film is a real triumph of curation of archive material, and a model of restraint in letter that archive speak for itself. It is well worth 90 minutes of anyone’s time.