Sound of Metal (2020)

 Score: 4.5 / 5

Ruben is a heavy metal drummer, in a touring band with his girlfriend/singer Lou, when his hearing starts to fail. We're hardly introduced to him before we witness his realization of this failure, in a devastating scene at the specialist's office, when he fails a test by 80-90% and is told the rest of his auditory sense will soon be gone. This isn't a gradual problem, it's a crisis. Will they have to cancel the tour? How will they survive without the income, living in an RV? Can he continue to play drums without hearing? Will a surgery fix the problem, or can he get aids to help? How will he ever be able to afford it? Ruben's fear manifests not as anger, at first, but as denial. On to the next show, he says. I can still hear enough.

Much will be made of actor Riz Ahmed (Nightcrawler, The Night Of) in this movie, and rightfully so. His stunning performance combines impossible restraint and nuance with some of the most emotionally brutal realism I've seen on screen in the last year. Given that his character could easily have been violent, melodramatic, and explosive, Ahmed often goes for the less obvious and more effective responses. Subtly eking out the ravages of his soul, he allows Ruben to breathe when we expect him to scream, keeping his anger and sorrow dangerously bottled up; when he does lash out, it's earned and believable in a heartbreaking way, surprising us not with its grotesque performativity but with tragic authenticity that is never once exploited by the filmmakers.

The movie collects and grounds itself before moving forward when Lou (a quietly strong supporting performance from Olivia Cooke of Bates Motel and Thoroughbreds) gets Ruben checked into a compound for Deaf people run by Joe (Paul Raci). Knowing that Ruben, a recovering addict, is close to letting this new trauma push him over the edge, Lou is determined to help her boyfriend. He is terrified that she will continue with her life and leave him behind; without her love and their music, what is he to do? We don't suspect for a moment that he has any healthy ties with family or other friends, and he has no work experience or skills to halt his free fall. As much as this will be known as a movie about Deafness, it's also a movie about addiction; some of the most powerful scenes include AA-type meetings with the compound members, who discuss the ways they've coped with isolation and disability.

Joe tells Ruben immediately that he cannot be fixed. This compound is a sort of halfway house, a bootcamp for Deaf people to learn skills, language, compassion, and joy before going back to the hearing world. He will need to learn how to live with deafness, or he will never move on from his current bitter, angry rut. Most of the movie stems from this, as Ruben watches children learning sign language or journaling his thoughts to purge his demons and embrace the silence. Speaking of silence, the sound design of this movie often pushes us into Ruben's audio-awareness, and we often feel suffocated by the Charlie-Brownish muffled sounds of dialogue. It's not consistent, and I think another viewing would be required simply to analyze why and how the soundscape shifts into and out of Ruben's perspective. It helps, too, that director Darius Marder avoids a score of music, allowing the silence to deafen us as well as Ruben, forcing us and the character to deal with the raw reality of his circumstances without musical manipulation. 

This movie is all about empathy, and it's an incredible disservice to it that it's only available streaming through Amazon Prime. This movie should be seen on a big screen in a dark room with surround sound. So when you watch it -- not if but when -- do yourself a favor and get rid of all distractions. Put on good headphones if you must, and put your phone down. This is meant to be immersive in order to work, and if you let it work its magic, it'll stick with you for a long time.