The digitally restored 1999 film “Compensation” applies an impressive range of cinematic techniques and modes of storytelling to tell the tales of two deaf Black women in early and late 20th-century Chicago.

From archival photography and intertitles to metric montage and open captions, the drama’s eclectic filmic language dovetails with its depiction of two different eras in American history and its exploration of diverse forms of communication. This stylistic variety also proves central to the themes of struggle and inclusion as well as its narrative of love and loss.

At the start, one might believe the film’s events will take place solely in the early 1900s, particularly due to the deployment of ornate title cards and a ragtime piano score like those found in early silent films. We meet Malindy Brown, a young deaf woman living in the Windy City; she’s played by a deaf actress, Michelle A. Banks. Text tells us that between 1900 and 1910, the city’s “colored” population doubled, and this before the accepted start date of the “Great Migration.” 

Striking period photographs, with the camera zooming in or moving across, illustrate this phenomenon and turn-of-the-century urban life, showing street scenes, prosperous Blacks, and poor migrants. Malindy meets one of these newcomers, Arthur Jones (John Earl Jelks), on a Lake Michigan beach. The literate, learned Malindy and the illiterate Arthur, who’s not deaf, seem to develop a tentative relationship, while we’re also given a glimpse of her work as a seamstress and advocacy for desegregation.

Then, without pomp or transitional intimation, the film cuts to the early 1990s as deaf artist Malaika Brown (also Ms. Banks) meets librarian Nico Jones (Mr. Jelks again) on the same beach, this time accompanied by a more modern soundtrack. So begins director Zeinabu irene Davis’s interweaving of both deaf/hearing love stories, with obstacles present in both eras, such as Malindy’s mother’s snobbish disapproval and the objections of Malaika’s deaf friends.

Ms. Davis handles the coupling of the two pairs both playfully and delicately, with both male characters learning sign language, and onscreen text and music augmenting the romances. The director also draws on the act of going to the movies to express universality and the continuity between the two epochs. 

In the earlier era, Malindy and Arthur attend a picture show featuring “The Railroad Porter,” a classic silent reel often credited as being the first film with an entirely Black production team, and reconstructed by Ms. Davis. In 1993, the twosome decides to catch “The Last Action Hero” over “Sleepless in Seattle,” which Malaika deems too talky, or “talkie” as in early movies featuring speech.  

The film itself could be considered reticent, with its subtle approach to the subjects of racism, industrial dehumanization, and disease-based discrimination. Ultimately, the deaf experience provides a focal point, reinforced by Ms. Davis’s mention in press notes that she knows of no other movie with a deaf Black lead. 

The director’s concentration on deafness beautifully lends itself to her other thematic thread: how distinct systems of language and connection are nonetheless interrelated. During an eloquent segment, Malaika’s gay best friend Bill performs a dance to a sung version of a poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar, “Compensation,” melding performance, song, and literature. Dunbar was one of the first Black poets in America to achieve fame and acclaim, and his poem is invoked throughout.

Ms. Davis was part of the “LA Rebellion,” an unofficial conglomeration of young Black filmmakers who studied at the UCLA Film School between the late 1960s and the ’80s. Along with directors like Julie Dash (“Daughters of the Dust”) and Charles Burnett (“To Sleep with Anger”), she committed to presenting African American lives far removed from the stereotypical portraits often found in popular media, and continues to create work that’s both experimental and humanist. In “Compensation,” her study of intersectionality is enhanced by the poised, poignant performances of her two leads.     

Some viewers may find certain scenes too stagey, and the third act’s dip into solemnity and ponderous sequences disappointing after the narrative economy displayed earlier. Yet there’s no denying the timelessness of the intricate mix of words, music, sounds, dual love stories, and black-and-white cinematography. 

Ms. Davis’s imaginative use of aural and visual elements not only enchants but evokes memory and poetry, leaving one to agree with the Library of Congress when it selected “Compensation” last year for preservation in the United States National Film Registry, for being “culturally, historically or aesthetically significant.” This film ticks off every criterion.