Film Review: 'The History of Sound' Probes the Past

Director Oliver Hermanus explores nostalgia, first love, and the musical heritage of forgotten times and places

South African filmmaker Oliver Hermanus arguably had his international breakthrough with his 2019 film Moffie, an ‘80s-set movie about a closeted young man serving his compulsory time in the military. He followed that up with the charming period film Living, a London-set remake of Akira Kurosawa’s 1951 classic Ikiru, and then with last year’s steamy miniseries Mary & George, which he executive produced (and of which he directed three episodes).

Now he’s back on the big screen with The History of Sound, a long and eagerly awaited project that stars both Josh O’Connor and Paul Mescal — a pairing of two rising actors, the former English and latter Irish, with both of them leaning heavily into American accents. Mescal, in particular, does some heavy lifting with his character, Lionel, who hails from Kentucky.

(Josh O’Connor and Paul Mescal in ‘The History of Sound.’ Photo courtesy of Mubi.)

Born right around the turn of the 20^th century, Lionel comes from a time that’s rich with local musical tradition. He’s synaesthetic, experiencing sounds as colors and flavors — a nifty twist on the idea of music being food for the soul — and his musical gifts get him noticed. Sent off to conservatory in Boston at a young age, he’s on a path toward a brilliant career as a singer and musician when a chance meeting with David (O’Connor) changes everything. It feels like fate: David is playing the same song on a piano that Lionel’s gather (Rafael Sbarge) used to pluck out on his guitar. Quizzing David on his knowledge of American folk songs, Lionel teaches him one that’s not in his vast repertoire: “The Silver Dagger,” a song about forbidden love. After a few more songs and a lot more to drink, the two end up back at David’s apartment, and in his bed, for some forbidden love of their own.

A happy, though brief, love affair commences, but America’s entry into World Sar I interrupts everything. Suddenly, David is off fighting; near-sighted Lionel is not sent to war, but with classes canceled he’s got nowhere to go but back to the farm, where he drags through his days. “You’re unhappy,” his ailing mother (Molly Price) notes, adding that he should never have left the farm in the first place. But it’s not the wider world and the cultural niceties of music that Lionel misses; it’s David.

(Josh O’Connor in ‘The History of Sound.’ Photo courtesy of Mubi.)

A couple of years later, with the war over, David sends word that he’s about to embark on a song-collecting journey around rural Maine. It’s January, and the sojourn is set to take place in frigid conditions, but Lionel doesn’t hesitate. Another happy interlude unfolds, this time with the two wandering from place to place by foot, toting a recording device and a box full of wax cylinders to capture native songs from obscure corners of rural America before time and progress — not to mention less appealing forces like racism — cause their erasure. David, always the more melancholy of the two, wrestles quietly with PTSD after his time at the front, and if the narrative bones of The History of Sound share something in common with films like Brokeback Mountain, there’s also a trace of Mrs. Dalloway in the mix.

The pair’s mostly tranquil, love-filled winter wander, and its songs they encounter along the way, will echo and resonate throughout Lionel’s life. Embarking on a high-profile career with stints in Rome (where he takes up with an Italian man) and Oxford (where he’s all but affianced to a British woman), Lionel is haunted by what he no longer has; David has fallen out of touch with him. We glimpse how David’s silence becomes a yearning counterpoint to the music in Lionel’s soul as the young man leans into his career and keeps himself aloof even in his most intimate relationships. Memories of his time with David come to Lionel’s mind frequently and drive him ever onward, but will his trajectory follow a line to revelation and resolution? Or will Lionel simply retrace that same emotional orbit around the pain and sweetness of the memories that have become the center of his life? Memories of music and of past love: How hard should we fight to hold on to them, and what’s their proper place as time moves us forward?

(Paul Mescal in ‘The History of Sound.’ Photo courtesy of Mubi.)

Lionel’s state of mind is underscored by the recurring presence of smoke and flame, the burning vital force of life itself leaving only a drifting, insubstantial remnant once it has flickered out. Also recurrent: The lonely keening of wind above a rooftop, be it that of a shack or a manse. The film’s sound design fills out its visual spaces, which are often large and sometimes quite dark, but sounds vie with songs as the film’s emotional foundation.

While The History of Sound is not likely to drive a resurgence of interest in the genre (the way the Coen Brothers’ more lighthearted O Brother, Where Art Thou? did), don’t be surprised if you find in yourself a renewed appreciation for a musical tradition much different from what we hear today.

The History of Sound opens in theaters September 12.