There is not one meter of film that is not perfect, as much for the staging as for the photography and the acting. In short, Henri Dupuy-Mazuel, Raymond Bernard and all their precious co-workers deserve unconditional praise. Among the many scenes that would deserve mentioning, if you wanted to undertake an in-depth study of the film – a study which would never be complete since images cannot be translated into words – there is one particular scene which truly deserves ovation. This magnificent, splendid scene carries a power and a rush that may never have been reached before. It is a scene of cavalry charges in an unreal battle evoked by the heroine of the film in her excitement. It is impossible to imagine it without seeing it, and it cannot even be described once it has been admired. Bernard and his colleagues were capable of simultaneously obtaining anguish and  marvels from these charges on the Polish plains.

Jean de Mirbel, Cinémagazine, 7, 14 January 1927

Rabaud’s early conservatism combined with his Conservatoire directorship might lead one to expect dry, colourless music, untouched by modern developments. Yet the opposite is true, as can be heard in the film score of Le Joueur d’échecs on which he worked closely with Raymond Bernard through 1926. The potential of the new medium and the particular opportunities for characterisation offered by the story, inspired his imagination and professional skills. The eighteenth century background allowed him to write some classical pastiche as well as use the then newly discovered harpsichord (at the same time as Poulenc and De Fallo were writing their concerti for the harpsichordist Wanda Landowska). The polish nationalist scenes allowed him to use some polish national hymns almost like he Bach chorales beloved by Franck. His operatic experience and natural lyricism stood him in good stead in writing ardent melodies for the love music. But it’s the modernist styles that are perhaps most interesting. The whole score is full of rich, sometimes ambiguous harmony, which mirrors the story’s world of subterfuge and deceit and helps create the sense of impending doom. Each style is integrated and personalised to create a score that is so suggestive, evocative and subtle that sometimes the film seems written for it rather than it for the film.

Roderick Swanston, Royal College of Music