Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Darius Marder
Starring: Riz Ahmed, Olivia Cooke, Paul Raci, Lauren Ridloff, Shaheem Sanchez, Chelsea Lee, Jeremy Stone,
Mathieu Amalric
Of all musical passions, there is something uniquely ardent about the
fandom of metal. In Britain, metal was the beloved soundtrack of bleak
suburbia, with the genre’s urgency and sonic blatancy providing escapism
and catharsis for oddball kids who were far removed from the action of
metropolitan cities, offering a sense of community in sown on patches,
distressed denim and scrawled classroom graffiti. Deeply uncool (metal’s
greatest originators, Black Sabbath, came from the Midlands, after all),
metal fans don’t give a fuck about your trends or fashions; it was only
the music, that screaming assault on the inauthentic, which mattered.
It is a lifestyle commitment which is palpable in the opening scenes of
Darius Marder’s (Co-screenwriter, Abraham Marder; Co-story
by Derek Cianfrance) critically garlanded
Sound of Metal. Ruben (Riz Ahmed), is a drummer in a rock group with his
romantic and musical partner Lou (the great Olivia Cooke). In a
very cool Winnebago-come-home studio they traverse middle America playing
the circuit and getting closer to that elusive big break. In excellent
early scenes, we feel the sweat and spit of performance (watching
Sound of Metal you are reminded of how ‘wet’ and physical
live music is) This is their life: their hopes, passions and relationship
tied together like the vivid symphonies of noise which they enact each
night.
So, it comes as an especially cruel blow when Ruben begins to lose his
hearing, along with his ability to play drums effectively and,
consequently, his entire way of living. And it happens so quickly, too.
Within a few terrifying sequences we are subject to the whispering
tinnitus and blanked sounds which infiltrate Ruben’s hearing, and the
hopelessness with which his initial denial is overruled (I watched
Sound of Metal wearing headphones - an unpleasantly
authentic experience).
Of course, Riz is incredible. Sure, the commitment to the role is obvious:
he’s ripped, bangs the drums convincingly, and is, eventually, fluent in
U.S. sign language (like King Kong). But it is Ahmed’s natural and intense
vulnerability which provides the film’s guiding beat: those big fawn eyes
amongst those tight, pretty features, his frustration and acceptance that
everything which mattered is being taken away irrevocably. Further
catalysing the horror is the factor of Ruben’s previous heroin addiction,
which results in Lou convincing him to pack off to a retreat for deaf
recovering addicts.
Here is where the film falters a little. The retreat is new age bordering
on cult, but we are supposed to accept its tenements as beneficial for
Ruben. Paul Raci’s retreat despot Joe has this confrontational edge
to him, as if Ruben is somehow the arsehole for losing his hearing, or at
least for bemoaning the bereavement of his entire life. This theme is
further muddled by the implication that Ruben’s previous heroin addiction
(which is given only lip service, with the character’s sobriety in
seemingly no danger of lapsing) is akin to his need to regain, not even
his hearing essentially, but a foothold in, what was until mere weeks ago,
his entire being. Joe says that ‘this sounds like addiction’ when Ruben
asks for money to get cochlear implants, but I don’t think it does,
really! Ruben argues that he can drum according to cues and is entirely
focussed on returning to Lou and their idyllic, devotional way of life:
not even in the same ballpark as substance abuse. We get the sense that it
is not even ‘hearing’ that Ruben is frightened of losing, but his access
to the supra-cult of rock and all the belonging which that particular
counter-culture entails.
Without wishing to get into spoiler territory, there is a definite sense
that Ruben’s loss of hearing has perhaps permanently excluded him from his
prior context with Lou, and that we are supposed to be uplifted when he
kowtows to a new normal. Ending with not a bang but a whimper, while
Sound of Metal’s candid and positive approach to disability is refreshing, the film’s
ultimate transposition from its sweaty opening is somewhat off-key, and
untrue to the intimate sense of belonging inherent to the suffix of the
film’s title. It is Ahmed’s tight performance which keeps
Sound of Metal’s emotional rhythm on point.
Sound of Metal is on Amazon Prime
Video UK/ROI and in UK cinemas now.
