A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Search This Blog

Monday, June 15, 2026

The History of Sound (Oliver Hermanus, 2025)

Josh O'Connor and Paul Mescal in The History of Sound

Cast: Paul Mescal, Josh O'Connor, Molly Price, Raphael Sbarge, Chris Cooper, Hadley Robinson, Emma Canning, Emily Bergl, Brianna Middleton, Gary Raymond, Alison Bartlett, Michael Schantz. Screenplay: Ben Shattuck, based on his stories. Cinematography: Alexander Dynan. Production design: Deborah Jensen. Film editing: Chris Wyatt. Music: Oliver Coates. 

Director Oliver Hermanus and screenwriter Ben Shattuck work hard to keep The History of Sound being smothered by the genre in which it inevitably falls: the doomed gay romance movie. We know from the moment Paul Mescal's Lionel meets Josh O'Connor's David in a bar with a male clientele in 1917 Boston, that as attractive and compatible as the two men are, things won't work out for them. They're separated by the war, into which David is drafted (Lionel is exempt because of his eyesight), and from which he returns an outwardly unscathed but inwardly mutilated man. They reunite for a musicological tour, collecting folk songs in rural Maine, and then they part forever. But Lionel doesn't know that it's forever, and we follow him through the rest of his life as he's haunted by this past love. It's not enough of a story to hang an entire feature-length film on, and Hermanus and Shattuck aren't able to give the film a satisfying shape and ending. But as a mood piece it benefits from the wintry ambiance of Alexander Dynan's cinematography, the melancholy beauty of a soundtrack full of traditional British and American folk songs, and most of all the performances of Mescal and O'Connor -- the latter is especially good at showing the war wounds that linger in hiding.