At the Cannes Film Festival, director Oliver Hermanus presents The History of Sound, a period romance set in early 20th-century New England. Starring Paul Mescal and Josh O’Connor as two men drawn together by love and music, the film explores a tender but tightly reined-in relationship that ultimately struggles to ignite genuine emotional intensity.
The story follows Lionel (Mescal), a reserved young man from a Kentucky farm, and David (O’Connor), a wealthy orphan from Newport, Rhode Island. Both study music at Boston’s New England Conservatory. In 1917, they meet at a piano bar where David sings a folk song that deeply resonates with Lionel, whose musical roots run deep through his family. Their initial connection is intimate but subtle, expressed more through glances and shared music than open declarations of affection — a reflection of the repressive social attitudes toward homosexuality at the time.
While The History of Sound aims to evoke the emotional complexity of forbidden love, it stops short of delivering the raw passion necessary to elevate the story. The restrained direction by Hermanus, who adapts a short story by Ben Sharrock, results in a visually polished but emotionally muted film. The subdued palette and formal staging create a contemplative atmosphere but also a sense of distance, making the narrative feel more like a minimalist chamber play than a fully realized romance.
O’Connor’s performance as David is magnetic, capturing the character’s mix of bravado and vulnerability with compelling subtlety. Mescal’s portrayal of Lionel, however, feels overly cautious, lacking the warmth or spark needed to fully engage the audience. This imbalance undermines key moments, including pivotal scenes that hint at deepening intimacy and love.
The film’s narrative arc follows the couple’s attempts to navigate their relationship amid societal constraints, interrupted by World War I and personal loss. David returns from the trenches eager to resume their bond through a shared musical expedition into Maine’s wilderness — an evocative metaphor for their quest for connection and freedom. Yet the emotional stakes remain muted, and their tentative romance rarely transcends the confines of polite restraint.
Comparisons to Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain are inevitable. Whereas Brokeback Mountain depicted the heartbreak and longing of hidden love with aching power, The History of Sound feels like a toned-down, minimalist iteration lacking comparable emotional depth. The film’s subtlety and formalism, while artistically deliberate, result in a romance that is more suggested than fully lived, more stilled than stirred.
As the story progresses, Lionel’s journey takes him to Italy and England, exploring complex relationships that further complicate his inner conflict. Yet the film never quite breaks free from its quiet, almost clinical composure. Despite strong individual elements — including evocative period detail and a haunting score — the film ultimately falls short of becoming a memorable portrayal of love’s turbulent beauty.
The History of Sound offers a refined but ultimately restrained glimpse into early 20th-century queer love. Its subdued style and hesitant performances may appeal to some, but those seeking the emotional richness of classics like Brokeback Mountain may find it wanting. The film’s ambition is clear, but its impact is muted — a poignant story told in hushed tones that may fade quietly from audiences’ minds.
Related Topics
- Netflix’s “Fear Street: Part One – 1994” Leads Global Charts
- Final Destination Bloodlines — Bloody Legacy Sparks Moral Controversy
- The Howling: The Overlooked Werewolf Film of 1981