Stepping onto the Sound-Stage

Let’s talk about sound. Although it was not the first film to incorporate synchronised sound (that distinction belongs to The Dickson Experimental Sound Film from 1894, despite its flaws), The Jazz Singer (1927) marked the shift from silent films to ‘talkies’. Its immense popularity opened the cinematic landscape to sound-synchronised films, driven by the use of the sophisticated Vitaphone device. From then, we’ve seen massive breakthroughs over the last century. Sparing you the history lesson, sound systems (and its associated software and hardware) evolved to ensure clarity and fidelity, ease of recording and editing, as well as compatibility with new aesthetic advancements such as colour and effects.  

Fast forward to the late 20th century, we witnessed the transition from analogue to digital formats, which not only enhanced audio fidelity, but also sparked improvements to surround sound system technologies. Think back to the last time you caught a movie at a commercial cinema — after a million different advertisements and movie trailers, right before the film is set to start, there is that moment of anticipatory hush, when an unmistakable plinking begins to fill your ears, accompanied by that sultry whisper that sends shivers down the back of your neck: “All. Around. You.” From clunky, chaotic recorded noise, we’ve arrived at a standard of auditory manipulation that opens up an entire three-dimensional sonic world that we can play in to create highly immersive and dynamic soundscapes.  

Usually, whenever we say that a film has good sound, we tend to mean that the sound complements, rather than distracts from, the visual storytelling. The sound does not want to stand out, rather, it blends seamlessly into the background, to breathe life and character into particular scenes; it gives the film a sense of reality. But when we talk about such an abstract concept as that of ‘reality’, we must take a step back to consider: whose reality are we giving an ear to?  

I like to think of sound in film, from the dialogue and voice effects to the music and atmospheric tracks, as its own cast of ‘actors’ on the sound-stage, each playing their own characters and roles. This stage, just like the visual one, is carefully choreographed to tell its own story. The way the subtle twitches in the corners of an actresses’ lips as they stare a little too long at the cup of coffee in their hands convey a sense of anxiousness, perhaps a restrained note of fear, so too would the intrusion of minor key notes into what should have been an uplifting piano piece in C major, playing quiet accompaniment to the quivering voice of the actress. Little disruptions, such as the heightened sound of a spoon clinking to the ground a couple of tables away, breaking the tense silence of the scene, only add to that growing sense of paranoia. And here, unwittingly, we as audiences have dipped into the sonic world of this specific character, her’s alone, in an intimate moment of connection where her perception of sound is privileged over everyone else’s. We experience only her reality through her experience of sound.  

This year, the student-run Perspectives Film Festival: Breakthroughs in Cinema, is dedicated to celebrating both the enduring experimentations with sound in film, as well as the immersive power of sound to convey a multiplicity of realities. Perfect Days (2023) and Blue (1993) both exemplify the use of sound in portraying characters. The former echoes the thoughts and feelings of a mostly unspeaking main character, and the latter forces us to rely solely on auditory means of characterisation through its innovatively visual-free sound.  

But why stop there? Sound also carries an empowering air, amplifying the voices of silenced minorities and cultures. Consider Smoke Sauna Sisterhood (2023), which offers women a safe space to engage in unapologetically authentic conversations, and Black God, White Devil (1964), which illuminates the struggles of the impoverished in Brazil.  

Widening our viewpoint, sound can also symbolise wealth and honour. We witness the importance of the sonic arts in films such as Paco (2023), which explores the realities of sound recording for film, and The Music Room (1958), which emphasises music and the performing arts as markers of power and freedom.  

In many ways, sound not only supports, but also becomes the very plot of a film itself. For example, in The Shout (1978), we spend the entirety of the film waiting in anticipation on the edge of our seats for the appearance of its titular shout. In the same vein, we also can sit back and enjoy the musical performances that both Trances (1981) and The Klezmer Project (2023) promise.  

When we really start to consider the role of sound in film, we must always keep in mind that sound, and whatever it is meant to gesture towards, are ultimately subjective interpretations. So, as you explore the world of sound through PFF 2023’s lineup, do so with your ears wide open. Who knows, you might just find yourself stepping onto the sound-stage.