Oliver Hermanus’s The History of Sound, adapted from a short story by Ben Shattuck, made a quiet stir at Cannes, but Peter Bradshaw’s review casts a critical eye on its execution. Though admired by some, the film is described as “anaemic” and “laborious,” more enamored with its own elegance than with truly engaging storytelling.
Bradshaw compares it to Brokeback Mountain, suggesting that its mood leans heavily on “mournful awe” rather than emotional vitality. Despite the film’s intention to evoke sorrow and depth, Bradshaw argues it’s too self-consciously refined to fully resonate.
A Quiet Romance Undone by Restraint, Missed Potential, and Underused Emotional Depth
Set in early 20th-century America, the narrative follows two young men, Lionel and David, who connect through their shared love of music at a Boston conservatory shortly before the First World War. In the summer of 1920, they travel together through rural Maine, recording traditional folk songs and slowly developing a romantic bond.
The story carries a tone of melancholy, shaped by a love that is eventually interrupted by time and circumstance. However, Bradshaw argues that the film falls short of capturing the emotional or musical depth it aims for. The portrayal of their relationship remains restrained and emotionally detached.
Paul Mescal plays Lionel, a gifted farm boy from Kentucky with unique musical sensitivities like perfect pitch and synaesthesia, although these talents are never explored on screen. His counterpart, David, played by Josh O’Connor, comes from a more privileged background and lacks Lionel’s natural abilities.
While both actors have demonstrated powerful performances in past roles, Bradshaw feels their talents are underused here, calling their performances competent but passionless. The emotional chemistry that could have driven the film’s core is described as stifled and restrained.
A Beautifully Crafted Film That Lacks Emotional Heat, Urgency, and Authentic Connection
Despite its thematic focus on music and love, Bradshaw criticizes the film for treating both as sterile museum exhibits. The folk songs feel preserved rather than alive, and the love story is similarly static, evoking sorrow rather than intimacy or joy.
Dialogues and accents come off as overly rehearsed, and the romantic scenes are muted, as if designed for nostalgic reflection rather than genuine connection. This carefully curated tone, while aesthetically pleasing, ultimately creates emotional distance.
Bradshaw concedes that the film contains moments of tenderness, especially in the aftermath of the lovers’ separation, including Lionel’s solitary travels and his encounter with David’s wife. A final reunion, symbolically tied to the wax cylinder recordings, hints at a poetic closure.
However, despite high production values and artistic ambition, the film is ultimately faulted for its lack of emotional immediacy. In Bradshaw’s view, The History of Sound never quite escapes the confines of its own tasteful presentation to deliver something truly alive.
