There’s a woozy and seductive quality to Yashaddai Owens’s impressionistic narrative debut. Shot in evocative black and white on textured 16mm stock, this almost dialogue-free feature evokes the freewheeling spirit of 1920s city symphony films. The propulsive opening alights at Istanbul, a metropolis gradually rousing from slumber. First lingering on wandering stray dogs and cats, Jimmy soon shifts gear into a more energetic mode; animated by the rhythm of urban life, the camera swirls around the bustling city, taking in its beautiful people and architecture. Enveloping these images is Paco Andreo’s chameleonic score, which accompanies almost the entire length of the film. Though at times punctuated by diegetic on-location sounds, the shape-shifting music responds to the ebb and flow of the montage, adding a sensorial tactility to whip-pans and capricious zoom shots.

Initially, the reason behind this flood of images is elusive. The veil is lifted when this movable feast departs from Istanbul for Paris. In a wide shot of the Luxor obelisks in Place de la Concorde, a young Black man briskly walks towards the camera, then he hails a taxi. This is, in fact, James Baldwin, played here by Benny O Arthur. Embracing anachronism, Owens situates the writer’s 1948 arrival in Paris within the here and now, reading, writing, and falling in love. In another unusual move, other than an excerpt from No Name in the Street, the film-maker also includes little of Baldwin’s writing.

While Jimmy’s approach risks veering into the ahistorical, there’s a certain emotional resonance in observing Baldwin not as a larger-than-life figure, but as a young soul liberated by fresh desires and experiences.

• Jimmy is at the ICA, London, from 6 March.