by Julian Wood
Worth: $17.00
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Josh O’Connor, Paul Mescal, Chris Cooper, Molly Price
Intro:
The strength of the film is the sensitive playing between Mescal and O’Connor.
We can think of song as organised sound; music as vibration. Both these enlarged perspectives come into play in one of the scenes of this haunting love story when we see David (Josh O’Connor) ply his trade as a music teacher. David is a quiet and thoughtful person with a deep love of music. Early on, he is in a Boston bar (the film is set in North America around the time of WWI). There, he hears the angel-voiced Lionel (Paul Mescal) singing a folk song. David is captivated by the song itself, as he is a collector of such songs, but he is even more captivated by Lionel. Soon, the two start a shy but passionate romance. Thereafter, the film follows the progress of their love during the ups and downs of a turbulent part of the twentieth century.
The film is slow and soft and has a sepia palette throughout, except for occasional bursts of verdant scenery. Mostly, the two lovers stay indoors, bonding through their love of music. Their attitude to their homosexuality is also of its time, which director Oliver Hermanus shows us as being part of the quiet tragedy. The ghost of Brokeback Mountain haunts this film too, in the sense of two men who know they love and desire each other, but don’t quite know how to play that in their world as a whole.
Hermanus, who made Beauty (2011), one of the weirdest films in the whole of queer cinema, and the very different Living (2022), a British remake of a Japanese film which demonstrated how he can use stillness for intensity. The History of Sound may be anchored by male-to-male desire, but it is equally wistful. It is also a historical drama which increases the sense of nostalgia and fits a story of love gained and lost. The film feels sad but not in a way that is merely sentimental or overly melancholic.
The strength of the film is the sensitive playing between Mescal and O’Connor. On the surface, they are odd casting choices, but they commit to the roles, and it helps that Mescal is clearly a brilliant singer. The chemistry between them has to sustain us through the film’s second half. There is evidence of their physical love, including a tender but shy sheets-up sex scene. However, it is the effect of love rather than love itself which is the psychological focus of the film. O’Connor, in particular, brings an unusual presence here. He seems attracted to offbeat films and once again uses his quietness and sense of British reserve to good effect. It is a film with contemplative charm that deserves to be seen.
