Roger Lion was active in filmmaking from early in the 1910s and had a predilection for sentimental romances. On his death in 1934, the body of work he left behind was not particularly remarkable. His adaptation of Chasseur de chez Maxim’s (1926) and, outstandingly, J’ai tué! remain memorable.

What is it that makes this film – for all its conventional subject matter – grab our attention and prick our curiosity to find out what happens? In particular, the emergence halfway through the story of archive footage of the earthquake that struck Japan in 1923 endows this mundane drama with a gripping and almost fatal authenticity, making it feel even more out of this world.

Donatien’s set designs reveal a 1920s penchant for an exoticism revisited in art deco and could stand in for a melancholy stage set reminiscent of Victor Segalen. Sessue Hayakawa heightens this “sense of difference” in a set-up that is theatrically very much à la francaise. He is a source of considerable interest for contemporary viewers. Stripped of the long pauses and seductive make-up of the

Roaring Twenties, he has a physical presence that occasionally radiates through clunky shots. The final courtroom scene sees him bounding spectacularly through the public gallery in order to strangle the blackmailer: a leap worthy of Fairbanks! Finally, a few cabaret numbers offer a review of the types of exoticism in vogue back in the day: Polynesia, Spain, Russia. The sets, Hayakawa, the cabaret acts, the grand gardens, the sumptuous private hotels and a languorous feel lend the film a certain air of decadence somewhere between the world-views of Paul Bourget and Huysmans.

The film is visually refined: the transparent draperies of Huguette Duflos rival the fountains of the French-style garden. An ostentatious show of good taste by the filmmaker, who is more subtly successful in the crucial party sequence that switches between the ball and the criminal intrigue. Hayakawa’s body galvanises and sets the rhythm of the scene.

Dominique Païni, La Persistance des images, La Cinémathèque française, Paris 1996