Avaliações de usuários

The History of Sound is a slow, almost meditative narrative that follows the brief but intense relationship between Lionel and David.

While I did enjoy it, I had hoped the film would focus on and explore their relationship more on screen, rather than relying on fragments for us to infer from. This isn't always a bad thing, but for a film that is about their relationship and love, I expected more of it to focus on that. That part was a little disappointing for me.

My favourite scenes were when Paul and Josh were together. They're both great actors in my opinion, had amazing chemistry. I just wish we had gotten more! Having these two as your lead actors, the possibilities are endless. Perhaps my expectations were too high. That said, I loved the beginning and the last 30 minutes. Another positive is that it's a beautiful film, with gorgeous shots!

Overall, it's a good film and one plan to see again.

Side note: I have a soft spot for Josh O'Connor, so it's always a delight to see him on screen.

Honestly, this film has been on my watchlist since 2021, and after the whole COVID-19 mess, I was pretty sure I'd never get to see it.

But unfortunately, it ended in major disappointment.

First off, it's important to point out that this is an adaptation of a book/short story which I haven't read.

Back to the film: the portrayal of 1917 is absolutely stunning. From the color palette to the costumes, even the tiniest background details are handled beautifully. I wouldn't be surprised if it gets an Oscar nod in one of those categories.

But not everything runs so smoothly. Nearly half of the film's most powerful scenes feel like carbon copies of Paul Mescal's earlier work-almost shot-for-shot, moments he's already known for in other films and series.

Why they chose to do that, whether it was director Oliver Hermanus or cinematographer Alexander Dynan, I don't know. But I can say for sure it was the wrong call.

Add to that the weak dialogue and a queer storyline that feels underdeveloped, and the film ends up miles away from where it's clearly trying to go.

That said, the music choices and Chris Cooper's presence earn it some points back.

I guess David didn't know how to quit you, Lionel... Brokeback Mountain with the older, more closeted generation.

Those songs are really beautiful. Very deep and very specific and surprising.

What can I say, I have no more to say. A beautiful, sad story. The sound of their life.

Did not expect that twist.

From the outset of its announcement, I closely followed the development of The History of Sound. The reason was straightforward: like Brokeback Mountain, it is adapted from a short story. Expanding such a compact narrative into a feature-length film inevitably demands significant intervention from the director and screenwriter. While the original text offers only fleeting descriptions of many scenes, the filmmakers must decide whether to elaborate upon these gaps or to remain faithful to the sparseness of the source.

It is therefore almost unavoidable to compare this film with Brokeback Mountain. The comparison became especially acute as I left the cinema after the credits had finished. Both films address themes of loss and regret, yet the crucial question is whether a director can transcend this now familiar framework. Regrettably, I contend that Oliver Hermanus does not. Entering the cinema already familiar with the short story, I could anticipate the emotional trajectory with surprising accuracy. For viewers, such predictability undermines emotional force, since foreknowledge diminishes impact.

That being said, the film's atmosphere is crafted with undeniable skill. The staging and visual tone exert considerable power, and the occasional impressionistic passages recalled for me the aesthetic precision of Luca Guadagnino. Yet therein lies a difficulty: when the world of the film feels so palpably real, the characters must embody a corresponding authenticity. Otherwise, their emotions risk appearing contrived. This is the director's central challenge, and I do not believe the balance was fully achieved.

In its articulation of love, the film remains overly restrained. Once again, comparison with Brokeback Mountain proves illuminating. The two narratives follow strikingly similar trajectories: a restrictive social milieu, two people isolated from the world, eventual separation, marriage to others, and Sudden death. These stages align almost exactly. Yet the difference in characterization alters the effect. In Brokeback Mountain, Jack is the active force, the instigator who propels the story forward, making his sudden death profoundly disruptive. Ang Lee's shift of perspective from Jack to Ennis further deepens the emotional resonance of Jack's absence. By contrast, David in The History of Sound is introverted and reticent. Employing a similar structure undercuts emotional engagement, for audiences struggle to empathize with the bond between David and Lionel, rendering the final revelation less powerful.

The difficulty lies in the representation of their relationship, which appears too attenuated. Though the story spans decades, built upon waiting and promises, the two are in fact together for only a few months, as the short story explicitly states. This similarity to Brokeback Mountain intensifies the challenge. With so little time shared, the director needed to accentuate details that would mark the relationship as unique and indispensable. Only through such emphasis could viewers be persuaded that Lionel's lifelong memory of David was justified. Hermanus, however, chose continued restraint. Even in moments when emotional intensity seemed required, the film remains subdued. The result is a narrative with limited emotional modulation. Beautiful images and carefully curated atmospheres are not sufficient; without variation in feeling, they become mere surfaces, unable to sustain the weight of love.

It is worth noting that the moment which moved me most did not involve the central romance at all, but rather Lionel discovering his mother's embroidery, accompanied by a cut to her smiling face. Curiously, in the short story the mother is almost invisible, scarcely described. This indicates that the director did invest thought in certain details, though in this case channeling emotion into a secondary character. If such attention had been more consistently integrated into the interactions of the protagonists, the love story might have acquired greater depth.

This is not to deny Hermanus's care. The pillow feathers, a bird's tail plume, and the final reel of recorded sound each elicited genuine emotional response from me. Yet these moments, though affecting, are too brief and too dispersed to sustain a two-hour film. They glitter as fragments but fail to coalesce into a continuous emotional line.

In sum, The History of Sound is a work of considerable poetic ambition and period sensibility. Its cinematography, atmosphere, and details affirm the enduring resonance of its love story. However, these strengths remain largely on the level of aesthetic beauty, lacking integration with emotional depth. Hermanus's preference for restraint grants the film serenity but also deprives it of resonance. The embedded details, while thoughtful, might be better suited to brisker narratives that reward repeated viewings. In a slow, narratively expansive drama, such reticence proves limiting. For me, The History of Sound is beautiful but not fully moving: a finely written love letter without sufficient passion to ignite the reader's heart. Compared to the original text, it falls just short of achieving its potential.

A love story is at the core of director Oliver Hermanus' slow-moving 2025 period drama, but his introspective approach doesn't generate enough heat to make it palpable beyond what is portrayed onscreen. Scripted by Ben Shattuck, the time-spanning story centers on music conservatory student Lionel Worthing who bonds with fellow student David White in a pub over their mutual love of folk music in the days before World War I. War separates them for a time, but they reunite when David asks Lionel to accompany him on a trip across Maine to record folk songs performed by the rural locals. They part ways again, each seeking his own way to reconcile the love they found with each other. By design, the movie focuses more on Lionel's journey and leaves David an elliptical figure. As a result, the inchoate narrative takes a presumptive view of their relationship and leaves intentional plot holes that get addressed late in the movie. The lead performances are not at fault and in fact, help address some of the narrative deficiencies. In a quietly adept turn, Paul Mescal shoulders most of the emotional burden as the more recessive Lionel, while Josh O'Connor plays David's seemingly bolder character with almost a wistful resignation. Chris Cooper pretty much steals the film as the much older Lionel quietly confronting his past. In muted tones of brown and gray, the production values are first-rate even if they get monotonous. There are inevitable similarities to "Brokeback Mountain", but the chemistry between the principals here is just too muted.

I came expecting to love this one and came away merely liking it, a lot in some parts and not so much in others. During the First World War and in the years following it, two young men bond with each other over their shared love of music (specifically traditional folk ballads as performed by country people who grew up with them) - sounds like it should be great, right? And two wonderful actors who do create magic together, if not, for reasons I'll get to, with the kinds of sparks you might expect.

Along with a lot of little quibbles, two issues muted my enthusiasm. The first is the decision to have Ben Shattuck write the screenplay from his own short story. I haven't read the story, so I'm guessing here, but my impression is that he had a hard time paring down his material and adapting it for truly cinematic purposes. The result is that there's a lot of ponderous, literary, no-I-don't-think-people-really-talked-that-way dialogue, and a lot of stuffing that is too obvious, with very brief segments in Italy and England, in particular, in which incidents and characters are introduced only to serve plot purposes, showing what became of the protagonist, Lionel (Paul Mescal) over the many years that follow his separation from David (Josh O'Connor), and how the absence of the love of his life has stunted him emotionally, building up to the film's moving, if overdetermined, climax. The supposed love objects in these cases (a boy and a grown woman), despite some perfectly fine acting, come across as mere props.

My second concern relates to the first. The film opens, we are told, in 1910, with a precocious young boy (a talented Leo Cocovinis) growing up on a Kansas farm, making us aware of his sensitivity and of his unique relationship to music (he "sees", we are told, the notes). The boy appears to be 11 or so. Cut to 1917, and the boy has grown into the wonderful Paul Mescal, who is off to the New England Conservatory, where he meets and bonds (also erotically, though, in this tasteful film, not with any visible excess of passion) with Josh O'Connor. But through some freak genetic phenomenon, the 11-or-so-year-old Lionel of 1910 appears in just seven years to have drifted somewhere past his 30th birthday, as has David. There's no effort made to make these guys appear to be late teenagers or young adults, with all the fire and passion you'd expect: they're mature, guarded. In a narrative film imbued with otherwise straightforward realism, this jars. Had others taken more of a hand in the screenplay, truly adapting, instead of (apparently) transposing Shattuck's story, this could have been corrected while keeping the talent in place. Since the specific events of 1917 are critical to the tale, the Kansas prelude could have been set in 1901 instead of 1910, with the circumstances of Lionel and David's meeting in Boston adjusted accordingly, and this problem (which bothered me throughout the critical sequences showing their time together) would have been obviated.

Then there are the quibbles. Let me list just a few: while Lionel is shown to be a talented musician and likely (conveyed via one particularly nice sequence that allows Mescal - particularly the Mescal of "Aftersun" -- to show us his amazing range) teacher, the matter of his "seeing" music and integrating his sensorial impressions more generally, evoked in the prelude scenes, is completely dropped, kind of like one of those what-ever-happened-to characters.

And then smaller details intrude on the film's realism. For example. Lionel at one point sits down to a meal in what is clearly a quite ordinary middle-class household in the 1920s, and, deep into Prohibition, there's a carafe of red wine on the table, with everyone imbibing with no further comment, like we were in, well, 2025. Or, on the music side (much of which is beautiful and moving), an Edison recorder with wax cylinders is used by Lionel and David to capture the magic sounds of unvarnished ballad singing in the wilds of Maine. But, after some scratchiness when the playbacks are started, the recorded sound comes through loud and clear, with none of the well-known primitive thinness (and associated clarity) of the real thing, as anyone can hear on YouTube, as if Mr Edison had invented high-fidelity LPs on his first try at sound recording. Such jarring anachronisms, combined with the wrongness of the protagonists' apparent ages, kept jerking me out of my (usually) very willing suspension of disbelief. They're irritating and unnecessary.

Still, there is much to enjoy and be moved by in this film, particularly in the subtle interplay between the two stars, and in many of the cameos. Thankful Mary Swain provides perhaps the film's emotional high point, softly crooning an ancient ballad for the Edison as the island refuge she and her formerly enslaved community have settled on is about to be violently destroyed. Also, it's a great pleasure to re-encounter the wonderful Chris Cooper, who plays Lionel, very movingly, in old age and, as such, gives us the retrospective voiceover narration of the opening sequence. And much of the cinematography is very beautiful.

So the film, despite unsatisfying loose ends, has much to offer a viewer and should be seen. In its reticence, it embodies, in a way, how oppressive the 1920s were for two men who loved each other. I will leave to others the inevitable comparisons between Oliver Hermanus (who had given us, in his 2019 "Moffie", set in modern, mostly White South Africa, another take on similar themes - and a more powerful one) and Ang Lee. Here, in depicting a bottled-up era in the way he does, he has given us a film that is often touching, quite beautiful, and wonderfully acted by two major talents, but that is a little too passionless and a little too distancing.

I'm an old man and over the years have had many gay friends (I worked in the arts). Most of them are not effeminate and most of them have served in the armed forces. The story I've heard repeatedly is that there is a lot of homosexuality in the military, but it is not acknowledged, even among the participants. This movie is sort of like that, too. The two lead characters do become physically involved, but they never really talk about their relationship. It's not the "love that dare not speak its name," but the love that dare not speak at all. That's why this movie is significant.

The story, which takes place in the early years of the 20th Century, concerns a farm boy (Paul Mescal) who also happens to be an instinctive musical prodigy and was gifted with perfect pitch. He can tell what key that roosters crow in. He meets a New England professor his same age (Josh O'Connor) who is impressed when he sings a folk song in a bar. They strike up a friendship and end up taking a trip together doing field work on collecting American folk songs, transcribing and recording them on an early recording machine that utilizes wax cylinders. The sex scenes are very subtle and are not sensationalized. I did not find them offensive. Their relationship is simple and full of mutual respect. When World War breaks out, the New Englander is drafted, but the farm boy is not because of his eyesight. (He wears glasses.) The war causes them to question what's next after it's over. The New Englander encourages the farm boy to go to Europe and sing professionally, which he does very successfully. They carry on a correspondence, but one day the letters stop coming. But life goes on. The farm boy becomes sophisticated and also has a love affair with a rich young British woman and they plan to marry. Revealing more would necessitate spoilers, which I don't to do.

The movie looks gorgeous. The American scenes in particular are reminiscent of the paintings of Andrew Wyeth. Art decoration and cinematography are beautifully detailed. The music is all based on American folk songs wonderfully augmented by evocative music composed by cellist Oliver Coates. All the actors, from even the smallest roles are pitch perfect. In the leads, both O'Connor and Mescal give powerfully understated and realistic performances. This is especially impressive because neither of them is an American. I was unfamiliar with the director, Oliver Hermanus, but I will seek out his other work. The work here is super. This movie is probably not for everybody, but those interested in folk music and American history will find it rewarding. I was tempted to add "gay studies," but I think that would be somewhat misleading. That is, however, the central issue, even though it never takes center stage. I think that's what makes the film so haunting.

So many reviewers seem to have preconceived notions about this film, most of which are described prior to seeing it.

This film is a masterpiece in disguise, and if you allow yourself to see it without spoiling every detail you're going to love it.

The music, the cinematography, and the plot are so well intertwined that it's worth watching alone as a tribute to the artform. Another viewing for the love and characters.

More than anything though, the direction and production are astounding. How they nailed the setting, the time period, the outfits, everything; I can't imagine the enormous efforts but for those who are fans of movies you'll love the detail work.

Amazing job to all who worked to create this, thank you from a fan.

No doubt, Oliver Hermanus's historical and romantic tale about two men and their love for music and relationship is quite palette and stunning. Hermanus's direction on the atmosphere, the heartfelt and meditative approach, and tone is clear with it's setting and characters. Helping to establish it's time period, the folk atmosphere, and the music.

Throughout, there are some gorgeous production designs, the camerawork is beautiful, and the music, sound designs, and some of the singing elements felt realist, genuine, and heartfelt. I really did like the composition of the music score and how Hermanus directs the singing layers. Alongside with two great performances between Josh O'Connor and Paul Mescal, even Chris Cooper during with his scenes.

However, as much the writing does have good intentions and a clear message, as a historical piece, it does succeed with capturing the atmosphere and essence. But as a romance drama, it didn't fully take advantage with it's creative nature. Because as much the performances are good, the characters feel too thin nor interesting to connect with. The main two characters romance and chemistry, unfortunately, doesn't have strong chemistry nor charm together, which made the romance and emotional elements feeling somewhat lacking and flavorless.

Alongside with some of the dialogue being a little clunky, the pacing is what makes the movie struggle a bit. Slow meditative movies can be good but some of the pacing really does drag certain scenes. Overall, Hermanus does a decent exploration about the love tale of music and people, but it didn't fully work as it could have.

Every frame of this film is pure beauty. The music, cinematography, direction, and story all come together perfectly, but what stands out most is the chemistry between Mescal and O'Connor. There isn't a single element out of place; everything blends seamlessly, guiding you through a romantic and melancholic journey with grace. If you're a romantic at heart, this film is a must-watch.

Two men gets acquainted with their love of folk music. They discover much more that they love actually but has their other problems to face. Years after, they meet again and discover their passions yet again but yet another set of personal problem. Only years, later that things would again make sense.

The first half of this film is quite standard romance film that rides into this tragedy of two people who just wants to see the 'world' but actually is running away from each other. It was just moods and all of two interconnected humans. I

But the last half was just like a long and particularly drab sequence of gay tropes you definitely had seen before. It just needs someone who can play against Mescal's Lionel as his search ends up being like an email of things he missed out. It was dull. It was particularly uneventful but it took hour to get through - what the heck.

I personally think the performances was great initially but as noted, the second half is a mess and bore in terms of writing. Mescal took over, and like the writing, was just on autopilot drab drama acting. He was no Ledger, who I believed saved Brokeback Mountain to just being a 'basic' gay film tbh. He could only do much with that kind of writing.

Not Recommended.

I knew nothing about this movie nor the book. The conclusion is that it is not a perfect movie, not even close, but I enjoyed the movie.

It is a slow movie. Lionel (Paul Mescal) takes most of the screen time but David (Josh O'Connor) stole every scenes. From his gaze to moving his mouth, Lionel was no wonder under David's spell and followed David wherever he went. It makes the heartbreaking when Lionel found out what had happened to David.

Capturing the history of sound back in the 20s was hard, just as finding a forbidden love in that era. I wish the director used more dialogs to express their feelings to each other and run parallel with the project they did in the movie.

When I heard these 2 actors were staring in a movie together I was very excited to see it and I did expect a slightly better movie but it's still pretty good. I think this film is at its best when it solely focuses on the love of music, and the other things it talks about are still good but the best parts are the stuff involving the love for music with Lionel & David. It has a lot of positive vibes while also being very sad.

Everyone who sang in this film was excellent, so much talent, everyone had great singing voices.

There was something about the performance of Josh O'Connor that felt much more natural and comfortable than Paul Mescal's performance, O'Connor was definitely better here, and I get that it's probably an adjustment for a straight man to play a gay man.

The conflict of this movie is the main issue I have with it, it just wasn't that interesting and was a little dull. If I were to compare this movie to another movie with similar themes like Luca Guadagnino's Queer from last year I don't think they are in the same category in terms of quality, the conflict and drama is way more interesting and compelling than this.

There is still a lot to like about this movie, the singing, O'Connor's acting, the chemistry. Visually it's solid, there are some cool shots but nothing crazy. When O'Connor & Mescal are on screen together it's much better than when they aren't and they aren't for a decent portion of the film so that didn't help it. The connection between Lionel & David is very good but I don't feel they portrayed it as well as it could have been in terms of consistency, the ending portrays it in such a deep and emotional way and that was one of the best parts of the movie for me.

Some inconsistencies for sure but a good film.

74/100.

"The History of Sound" presents an audiovisual narrative that immediately captivates viewers with its stunning beauty and enchanting music.

The film's framing beautifully captures the pristine rural landscapes and nostalgic atmosphere of the 1990s with visually captivating detail.

The music not only accompanies the story but becomes an integral part of its soul, leaving a warm and memorable presence.

Despite its many strengths, the film has a clear weakness in its screenplay.

The narrative progresses slowly, and due to shortcomings in character development and script, the story - despite its high emotional potential - fails to touch the audience's heart deeply, leaving numerous unanswered questions about the characters.

Overall, "The History of Sound" is more of a feast for the eyes than something that touches the heart!

It's a beautiful audiovisual experience, but not a lasting drama.

Slow moving, beautifully photographed and acted, exquisitely crafted love story. One for the ages. Make no mistake about it, this is a profoundly moving motion picture experience that defies all expectations. The cumulative effect of using unknow actors. An achingly slow pace and a naked score (you will know it when you hear it) assures you will pay attention to the subtleties and nuances of the plot, the anguish of the characters and the final denouement. This is not for modern day action junkies nor attention deficit disorder victims. Huge wordless spaces between fragments of dialogue will alienate modern day adventure junkies who need a jolt every ten seconds. This is an exquisite filme.

The History of Sound is a quiet, contemplative film that listens deeply to folk music as a vessel of memory and truth. The unfiltered voices of the actors give the songs an intimacy that feels lived-in, almost archival. Visually, the film captures the texture of an older era with restraint and patience, allowing atmosphere to do much of the storytelling.

While the mood and intention are strong, the emotional core falters. The romance, though implied, never fully resonates; the connection between the two lovers feels distant rather than felt. The narrative's turn toward violence in the final act feels abrupt and discordant, cutting against the intimacy the film initially promises.

In the end, the film's sound is haunting and beautiful, but the love at its center remains strangely unheard.

Mescal and O'Connor deliver beautiful and honest performances in this gorgeous movie. Audiences will detect shades of "Brokeback Mountain," but the rawness of Appalachian folk music brings an added honesty and simplicity to the story. One of the best films of the year.i strongly recommend the movie.

Very compelling story, meaningful and very artsy. This is more like a history of your lover very sad and soothing. The story is simple yet very significant of a person truly a old movie vibe.

Just very sad of old days you can't present your love to whom you choose, because of Homophobia. It's entertaining.

With this film you get more from the actual trailer than from the actual film. The film's official trailers showed the most important scenes and what was left in the actual film was, filler. Disappointing filler that went nowhere. There's literally no need to see the film, because the most important parts were already shown to the public.

Paul Mescal and Josh O'Connor get squandered by a film that literally tries to be Brokeback Mountain 2.0, without the drama and constant shouting, that is.

In conclusion, if this film tried to show us more scenes with actual substance and care between the two titular characters, then maybe more would care for this film and subsequently rate it better.

I thoroughly enjoyed this film and its compelling story. It connected with me in so many ways, deep inside. The connection that Lionel and David were able to make was rooted in their love for music, its emotional power, and the emotional ties they had formed with one another over the years.

The deaf reality of their unspoken connection plucks and then rips. It was easy to empathise with either Lionel's or David's perspective, yearning to hear what was needed, but instead hearing deafening silence. Each of their experiences feels so profoundly moving, so deeply sad, that we should walk away from this film borrowing Lionel's authored foreword articulating folk music:

Their relationship, their story as people creating that bonding connection, each experiencing sadness so great that it needs a song written about it. A song with melodies that, as they sing it and we listen, we pass down to be collected, making their and our collective hardship lighter.