'Sound of Metal' Review: Unexpected but Inspiring Beginnings

(Spoiler alert: This article discusses parts and the ending of Sound of Metal.)

Before the first return to Phase 2 (Heightened Alert), I had the pleasure of watching Sound of Metal at The Projector. It was unplanned and I had only briefly scanned through the gist of the plot, but it certainly did not disappoint. I was captivated for the entirety of the 2019 American drama film, which has become one of my favourite films of all time, and also the go-to film when someone asks me for a recommendation of what to watch.

Directed and co-written by Darius Marder, the film is about heavy-metal drummer and ex-addict Reuben grappling with hearing loss, and how he overcame challenges to adapt to his new life. Starring Riz Ahmed, Olivia Cooke, Paul Raci, Lauren Ridloff, and Mathieu Amalric, Sound of Metal has gathered 163 nominations and won 82 awards including coveted Oscars.

The critically acclaimed film received raving praise for the screenplay, sound design, and Ahmed and Raci’s performances. Fittingly and deservingly so, it won Best Sound and Best Film Editing at the 93rd Academy Awards.

Shot in a documentary style and on 35mm film, both things that I am a major fan of, it is not just the clever edits and stunning shots that I remember. It is the sound design and how it blends perfectly with those elements to craft a film that is unarguably brilliant and heart-wrenching.

We are thrown into a world of immersive soundscape — designed extravagantly by a five-person sound design team with Nicolas Becker — paired with stellar performances and intense moments that undoubtedly flood us with scales of emotions. The way noise and sound are cut in and out; the way it is manipulated throughout the film leads audiences to be in the same space as Ruben (Ahmed) and to partly experience what his deafness was like. There are stark differences in the loud music (the music that is Ruben’s life, and partly what held his relationship together), the pitched rings, hums and reverberations when Ruben starts to lose his hearing, to the absolute silence. We hear all of it, and each speaks millions and leaves us pondering.

One of my favourite sequences is at the first quarter of the film when he first realises there was something wrong with his hearing. Before that, we see and hear a series of routine activities Ruben goes through in the morning: water gushing from showerheads, the electrical whirring of blenders, music and human noises. After another night of playing a show and the next morning, we see the exact same scenes of activities but without sound. There is something horrifying yet comforting about it — still being able to go on with the routine, of course, but with the fear that it may be forever.

In the midst of Ruben navigating through new circumstances, learning how to live with being deaf and rediscovering his identity, we also see his relationship with band-mate Lou (Cooke) change. Starting with a fun, wild and loving image of the idealised musician duo, we soon find out that they are highly dependent on each other. Ruben will not go back to heroin if Lou refrains from self-hurting. As the story unfolds, little nuances within the film show and explain why the couple is not a great fit after all, and that may be in a way they were holding each other’s potential lives back.

Other than illustrating an authentic experience by consulting with the deaf and speaking with audiologists, Sound of Metal has been acknowledged for the genuine examination of the world of the deaf and its use of deaf actors; highlighting the best-supporting deaf culture and sign language. Raci (Joe), a child of deaf parents and nominee for best supporting actor Oscar for his role, believes that the film has started a bigger conversation of representation, inclusion and casting of differently-abled people on-screen.

Narratively, the film explores what people who do not live with disabilities might not fully comprehend, which is whether Ruben sees his disability as a “shortcoming” or as a different way of living. Though I have never experienced what the characters had, the film did let me understand it in a new, more insightful way.

The film ends with Ruben’s realisation of Joe’s wise words on "moments of stillness". While we witness the moment where he finally accepts being deaf as a part of his identity, we also witness a vibrant shot of him sitting in the middle of a bustling city but in complete silence — a vastly different mood from the dark and loud scenes at the beginning of the film. The ending, though uncertain, left me with a unique sense of hope — that it was in fact a new beginning. With all that each character, especially Ruben, has been through, I find myself wanting a bittersweet yet content closure for him before he goes on with what will be a very fulfilling life (which we had a snippet of towards the end of when he was learning and teaching music to deaf children).

I think here, what we allow ourselves to think of the "ending" and possibilities, on a certain level, tells us our mindset and approach to life.