By 1909, D.W. Griffith had been directing films for the Biograph Company for about a year, and – working at a rate of two or three per week – was rapidly beginning to develop his skills as a filmmaker. 'The Sealed Room' is a very interesting 11 minute short, a fascinating piece of Gothic melodrama that even drifts slightly into the realm of early horror. The simple narrative was probably inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's 1846 short story, "The Cask of Amontillado," and concerns a powerful king who conceives a deliciously sadistic form of revenge to punish his wife's infidelity.

Set in medieval times, 'The Sealed Room' begins with the king (Arthur V. Johnson) overseeing the construction of a windowless room from a sequestered dove-cote, the idea being that he and his wife (Marion Leonard) will have a completely private place to enjoy each other's company. He is obviously very much in love with her, always showing his affection, this latest act the crowning achievement of his endearment. However, unbeknownst to the king, his wife has fallen in love with the royal minstrel (Henry B. Walthall). During one romantic liaison inside the specially-built room, the wife and the minstrel are discovered, and the heartbroken king conceives a means of getting his retribution on the ignorant couple. Silently, he orders his workmen to seal off the only doorway with stone and mortar, slowly descending into cackling insanity as each new stone is placed down.

D.W. Griffith always had an eye for acute detail, and 'The Sealed Room' is an excellent early example of this. The lavish medieval century costumes lend the film a sense of reality, and the castle interior looks authentic enough to be believable. At the time, the director was also pioneering methods of creating suspense, and I must admit that, as the film progressed, I became fixated on finding out what would happen to the hapless young lovers. In the early minutes, Griffith restricts his shots to lengthy long-takes from a stationary camera (as was usual at the time), but soon – parallel to the progressively darker subject matter – he alters his editing tactics in a fascinating way. Though he may not have invented the technique, Griffith was crucial in popularising the use of "cross-cutting" – that is, alternating between different events occurring at the same time. Not only does this create a sense of continuity, but it also maximises the level of suspense, since we, as the audience, are well aware, not only of the king's ghastly actions, but also that the wife and the minstrel are oblivious to it all.

Despite these innovations, 'The Sealed Room' suffers from many of the shortcomings typical of the era. The entire film takes place in just two rooms, with footage captured from a total of just three positions, and so it is prone to become dull and monotonous at times. The acting performances are greatly exaggerated for extra effect, however, at least in the case of Arthur V. Johnson, his overplaying actually contributed to recognising the escalating madness of the betrayed king. A moment that I thought particularly effective was when the two lovers attempted to exit the room, only to find their only doorway replaced with a wall of solid stone. Their panicked reactions, accompanied by the silent maniacal cackling of the king, serve very well to create an impending sense of claustrophobia. I did think, however, that their supply of oxygen was exhausted surprisingly quickly.