This scene from Sergei Eisenstein's 1925 epic, The Battleship Potemkin, is still widely acclaimed as the single most celebrated sequence in cinema history.

After a mutiny aboard the battleship Potemkin, popular unrest in harbour is brutally crushed by Tsarist forces and leads to the classic sequence of the baby in a pram rolling down the steps.

The film, a fictional account of the 1905 mutiny which triggered the Russian Revolution, is striking for its beautiful, modernist cinematography.

It was strange to see an early silent film which didn't involve a man with a bowler hat and a funny walk.

When it was first shown, a score composed by Edmund Meisel accompanied it.

Marking the 100th anniversary of the uprising, composer Ed Hughes and the New Music Players ensemble performed a contemporary score to this showingat Hove's Engineerium.

The large hall, reminiscent of a ship's engine room, much like the Potemkin's must have been, was a clever choice of venue.

Matching the turbulence and cruelty of the film, the music was sharply discordant and unsettling and served to prick the audience as much as the images they were watching, which included the shooting of women and children.

Far removed from a cuddly, Hollywood rom-com, The Battleship Potemkin is film at its most powerful and felt 80 years young.