In 1920s New England, two young men fall in love as they collect folk songs from working-class people and preserve them.
They (usually) don’t make them like this anymore. The History Of Sound, directed by Living’s Oliver Hermanus, spans most of the 20th century, its prologue set in 1910 and epilogue in 1980. But even for a period drama it’s decidedly, almost defiantly old-fashioned. Those hoping to see scene after scene of it-boys Paul Mescal and Josh O’Connor in the throes of passion will be rather disappointed; this is a much subtler and more sedate affair, reminiscent of Merchant-Ivory or the films of Terence Davies. Adapted from his own short stories by Ben Shattuck, what it lacks in heat it makes up for in sheer emotional power.
Reflecting its literary origins, the film is narrated by Lionel (Mescal), a poor Kentucky farm boy. He has an affinity for visualising and even tasting musical notes, sparked by singing traditional folk songs with his father. At the Boston Conservatory, fellow student and folk enthusiast David (O’Connor) catches his eye, and David is enraptured by Lionel’s beautiful voice and his authentic connection with these songs. But a sense of melancholy permeates, all grey winter skies and sparse, colourless bedrooms, and David is soon drafted to fight in the First World War, leaving Lionel devastated. O’Connor is such a charismatic yet understated presence that we as audience members miss him terribly, too.
Paul Mescal’s performance is naturalistic and restrained.
They reunite several years later when David invites Lionel on a trip around New England, recording folk songs as oral histories. Here they conjure their own private world of romance and pure music. Their devotion is expressed not so much in words but in the transcendent power of the songs they collect from the most ordinary of working people, achingly beautiful ballads that have been passed down by generations.
But the mental scars of trench warfare have left their mark on David, while Lionel is frustrated by David’s lack of understanding of working-class life. With his run of Aftersun, All Of Us Strangers and Hamnet, Mescal has become synonymous with the weepie. But, like O’Connor, his performance is naturalistic and restrained, and the real gut-punch is delivered by the wonderful Chris Cooper as a much older Lionel in an epilogue.
Younger LGBTQ+ audiences have understandably demanded stories that represent the queer experience as something other than emotional torture and tragedy. Although this is the kind of sad gay period drama that’s out of style and at times a little too muted for its own good, grant The History Of Sound patience and grace and you might be richly rewarded.
A profoundly affecting story of doomed love and lost time that boasts captivating performances from Mescal and O’Connor. Come for the boys, stay for the magic of storytelling through song.