Lionel (Mescal) is a talented singer from rural Kentucky raised on the songs his father would sing on the front porch. In 1917, he leaves his family farm to attend the Boston Music Conservatory. There he meets David (O'Connor), a charming music composing student who is soon drafted into the end of the war. In 1920, the two spend a winter walking through the forests and islands of Maine, collecting folk songs in order to preserve them for future generations. Lionel drifts through Europe in his twenties and thirties, building a new life of profound success and happiness, and experiencing new loves. Yet he is constantly drawn back to memories of his brief time with David, trying to understand the impact of their relationship. Eventually, a reminder of their work together reveals why their connection rang loudest.

 

The History of Sound is truly a work of art. Director Oliver Hermanus (who crafted one of my favorite films of the last decade Living (2022), delivers his most artistic cinematic composition yet. It is a film that contains arguably career best performances from Mescal and O’Connor, it’s creaking under the weight of many themes, and it’s poetically shot with gorgeous cinematography. 

 

But the challenge with such a film is that it doesn’t quite feel like all of those wondrous pieces come together to make a completely emotionally cohesive narrative. Central to the story is the romance between Lionel and David and while there are clear moments of connection, it feels like those moments are kept at arms length, never really committed to fully in a passionate way that will break your heart because of what occurs later in the film. 

 

The collection of folk songs that David and Lionel embark on could have packed more of a hefty punch if mirrored with the protagonists romance or journey or even been less than a meandering notion. The folk songs and the communities that hold them are all quite beautiful but again I was, after experiencing Hermanus’ Living, expecting more of a gut punch here and there that never really came. 

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There could be an argument that as we are experiencing the film from Lionel's perspective that this is why it seems a little disconnected. But if so the longing to be back with David would be visceral, not altogether restrained. The cinematography, especially in the capturing of Lionel's home and across the landscapes where they search for folk songs, is an exquisite work of art. 

 

Achingly beautiful in its lead performances and production design, The History of Sound is more of an ode to memory of long lost love than an exhilarating romance in and of itself.