29/01/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

The History of Sound is another ‘small’ but momentous film, one that narrates the story of an on-off relationship between two gay men, in an era when such liaisons had to be conducted in secret. It pretty much spans the central character’s lifetime and is set in several different locations, but at every turn is flooded with a pervasive mournful yearning for what could – should – have been.

We first encounter young Lionel Worthing (Leo Cocovinis) living with his parents in a shotgun shack in the wilds of Kentucky, already developing an interest in the folk songs played by his father to help pass the long, lonely hours. When next we meet Lionel, it’s 1917 and (now played by Paul Mescal) he’s a student at The New England Conservatory of Music. In a pub one evening, he encounters David White (Josh O’ Connor), who is sitting at a piano and singing a song that resonates in Lionel’s memory. He introduces himself and, when David tells him that he ‘collects folk songs’, Lionel ends up singing Silver Dagger, a song from his childhood – and an attraction sparks between them. They become lovers.

But just one year later, David is called up to serve in the American Army and, though the two men promise to stay in touch, it’s several years before Lionel hears from David again. His classes at the Conservatory suspended, Lionel is compelled to head back to Kentucky, to care for his ailing mother (Molly Price), now a widow and still living in the same humble home in which Lionel grew up. It’s a thankless, hard-scrabble existence and Lionel is desperately lonely there. So when a letter from David arrives out of the blue, he reads it with mounting excitement. David is now a teacher at Maine college and is planning to spend the summer on a 100-mile trip across America, seeking out and recording American folk songs on wax cylinders. Would Lionel like to join him on the trip?

Of course, he says yes, even though he feels horribly guilty at the thought of leaving his mother alone. The ensuing summer is the happiest time of his life – but, as the two men make their way across country, Lionel has no inkling of what is to follow…

Directed by Oliver Hermanus and written by Ben Shattuck (based on his original short story), this is a handsomely mounted film that skilfully captures the changing eras and several different locations with great skill, thanks to Alexander Dyan’s dazzling cinematography and Miyako Bellizzi’s costume designs. Mescal and O’Connor play their roles with absolute distinction – little wonder that they are two of the most prolific actors in the firmament – and Oliver Coates provides a lush original score to supplement the traditional folk songs sung by the strangers the duo encounter on their travels. (I’m pleasantly surprised to discover how many of the ballads are familiar to me from my own youth).

A lengthy section set in Rome in the 1920s provides a lush, sun-drenched contrast to some of the earlier scenes but, here – as well as later in Oxford – Lionel’s attempts to find happiness in a more conventional relationship are destined to fail; and there’s a heartbreaking coda set in 1980, where an elderly Lionel (played by Chris Cooper), now an eminent musicologist, receives an unexpected parcel, containing memories of more optimistic times.

I won’t pretend this isn’t a sad story; it most certainly falls into that category. But it’s utterly compelling throughout and is the kind of film that leaves you thinking about its themes, long after the credits have rolled.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney