Sound of Metal

In The Sound of Metal, one of 2020's best pictures, Riz Ahmed delivers a knockout performance as a punk-metal drummer who experiences a sudden hearing loss and must confront the fact that he may never regain his ability to hear. When we first meet Ruben, he has put together a good life for himself; travelling from gig to gig with his girlfriend and bandmate Lou (Olivia Cooke) doing nightly shows in small clubs. Ruben is a recovering heroin addict, Lou has a past that includes self-harm, but their relationship, their two-person band, and the music they make together have clearly helped them each overcome these challenges. Thus, the sudden deafness threatens every facet of Rubin’s life, and Lou fears he may relapse if she can’t find a sober place for him to learn to adapt to his new reality.

The premise puts a fresh spin on one of cinema’s oldest and most dubious subgenres, the “illness/disease” or “recovering from addiction” melodrama. These types of pictures usually showcase outstanding Acting (with a capital “A”) but are often accompanied by heavy-handed writing that can deliver oversimplified solutions or insulting depictions of the communities at the center of their stories. But The Sound of Metal, directed by Darius Marder from an original screenplay he wrote with his brother Abraham, avoids the usual pitfalls and clichés we've come to associate with films of this ilk.

Marder—whose background is as an editor of documentaries like the excellent Freeheld (2007) and who co-wrote the Ryan Gosling / Bradley Cooper neo-noir The Place Beyond the Pines (2012)—makes all the right choices in the screenplay and his execution of this richly detailed low-budget picture. Movies of this genre, by their nature, contain several near-mandatory scenes, which is why so many of these movies come off as contrived, but Marder makes each required narrative beat feel fresh, alive, and authentic. As each new character gets introduced, Marder allows the viewer to infer much of that individual’s backstory and draw our own conclusions about whatever history might exist between them and one of the principals. 

That level of subtlety and restraint is also what makes Ahmed’s performance so outstanding. I first became aware of him in the terrific British satirical black comedy Four Lions (2010), and he’s been giving attention-getting performances in crime dramas and thrillers like The Reluctant Fundamentalist (2013) and Nightcrawler (2014), as well as popcorn blockbusters like Jason Bourne and Rogue One (both in 2016). Quiet intensity has always been his strong suit, and he uses it here to create his best performance to date—underplaying the myriad emotions going on behind Rubin’s intense, frightened eyes. The looks on his face during nearly every moment of The Sound of Metal will be familiar to anyone who has known someone struggling with the fear that they may be losing their tenuous grip on a life they worked hard to pull together.

Cooke (Ouija, Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, Thoroughbreds) creates a richly textured and deeply sympathetic character in Lou, who despite limited screen time is a major presence throughout the entire picture. And the great French actor Mathieu Amalric (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Munich, Quantum of Solace) gives a memorable turn late in the movie. But perhaps the performance that deserves the most praise is that of Paul Raci who plays Joe, the deaf recovering alcoholic who runs a shelter for hearing impaired addicts. Raci is a character actor known for playing very small parts in movies and television. None of his prior work in roles like Agent #1, Homeless Man, Drunk Guy, Guy in Dark Suit, or Waiter would prepare you for the work he does in this movie. Raised as the hearing son of deaf parents, he came to the project fluent not only in American Sign Language but also in Deaf culture.

The Sound of Metal depicts the Deaf community accurately at every turn. Their issues, specifically the way most hearing-impaired individuals see themselves as a minority group with its own rich, long-standing culture and language rather than a group of disabled people, is properly explored and understood. And through the film’s astonishing use of sound design, we are literally brought into the auditory perspective of the hearing impaired, discovering subtleties as Rubin discovers them. Through a combination of cinematic, narrative, and acting techniques, we are transported into Ruben’s world and given the opportunity to experience his entry and acceptance into this infrequently examined culture. Thus, The Sound of Metal is a perfect example of the cinema’s unique status as what Roger Ebert dubbed "an Empathy Generating Machine." The film never generates pity, false heroics, or simplistic answers to life’s difficult questions. Rather it takes us into the perspective of one individual and lets us see (and, moreover, hear) the world through his eyes and ears.