From the moment the movie opens with this group performing at a gig, we see the lovers Ruben (Ahmed) and Lou (Cooke), their career as a metal duo named Blackgammon, and their life as they drive across the country in their RV to perform shows. While their act consists of loud music characterized by Lou’s distorted guitar sounds and Ruben’s thunderous drum playing, away from it they live an otherwise idyllic van life. What could go wrong?
Apparently, a lot. And it has to do with the consequences of being exposed to loud noises.
What started as a sharp ringing sound in his ears before they did their soundcheck begins to deteriorate rapidly: Ruben’s hearing sometimes become muffled, even having to rely on Lou’s playing in one gig to serve as his cues. Eventually the frustration boils over and he walks out in the middle of one particular performance, after which he finally confesses to Lou about his gradual loss of hearing.
When an Affliction Makes Passion and Purpose Collide
Director Marder deftly shows in the film how one’s passion becomes all-too-consuming when left unchecked. Faced with the looming possibility of going permanently deaf, Ruben audaciously decides to carry on with their music. While he reasons out that the money they’ll earn can pay for expensive cochlear implants, Lou on the other hand wants Ruben to stop performing for his sake and safety.
We can see where this strain is going from a mile away.
Sometimes we tend to think that by pursuing our passion, we thus have purpose—which isn’t even remotely true. What we don’t realize is that more often, we can have purpose even as we have to put our passion on hold. And given Ruben’s singular focus on performing, not only does his hearing become cloudy, his outlook in life does as well.
As he at last acquiesces to the wishes of people around him, Ruben commits himself to a rural community for deaf people where is taken in warmly by Joe (Raci), who explains to him that he established the place on the belief that deafness is not a handicap that needs to be fixed.
Left with little to no choice, Ruben eases himself into the community, as we the audience root collectively that he finds his purpose there.
The Understandable Struggle to See How Silence is Golden
This is where we get to appreciate the nuances Ahmed brings to his character, even without saying a word and—especially—between those moments of muffled vibrations. In a career-defining performance, Ahmed’s Ruben Stone is near-perfect as someone grappling with his new normal. His is an evocative portrayal of someone full of frustration and pent-up anger, but also cognizant enough to realize how kvetching wouldn’t increase a proverbial volume in his life.
Even so, we get to see him lashing out during moments of silence when he couldn’t hear a thing. We see him lose it in the middle of the daily assignment Joe tasked him to do every morning, wherein he needs to be comfortable in silence while doing nothing but to sit down.
Think about it: if Ahmed’s performance weren’t so affective, we would have dismissed Ruben as a young, whiny man who has to grow some spine and accept his reality. Instead, we empathize with the character’s struggles to appreciate the quiet when he’s so used to performing loud music before a vibrant crowd. I mean, how does Joe expect Ruben to appreciate silence when his mind is currently shouting epithets and cursing at life at the same time his ears are completely shot?
This is why “Sound of Metal,” if nothing more, is a film that utterly showcases Riz Ahmed as a terrific actor who has barely scratched the surface of his potential. Imagine the acting performances he can gift us when given the right material—such as this—to work on moving forward.
A Film That Embraces Deafness Without Romanticizing It
Having all of these said, perhaps the most important thing in “Sound of Metal” is that it takes the experiences of the deaf community center stage without romanticizing it. A big credit goes to Marder, whose directorial choices prioritize the importance of showing the audience the realities of the everyday life of deaf people as seen through an objective lens. Joe’s idea of a deaf community being productive members of society that can be accepted as they are is a refreshing take most films don’t show.
Usually, mainstream films depict afflictions and impairments as things that need to be fixed to make the person’s life whole again. “Sound of Metal,” conversely, makes sure that the objectivity stays intact, instead showing Ruben’s character arc as someone who obstinately believes he needs his hearing back to be normal again, even as he warms up to the community and their experiences to live their lives having the auditory impairment as their characteristic, and not as their disability. Thankfully, the filmmakers know the big difference between these words, and the film shows both sides of the spectrum who view deafness accordingly.
When the movie finally unfolds during the third act, we see the two characters from the beginning of the film, and their newfound appreciation for the curveball life threw their way. In the end, we see two people—who met at their most broken and decided to build each other up—take a break and pick the pieces up on their own. If anything, “Sound of Metal” gives us a perfect symbolism of Ruben (and in a lesser degree, Lou) and his journey from the noise to the silence; it’s not that they were bad together—maybe they were just better off apart.
And with the last shot of Ruben finally closing his eyes amid the chaos around him, we don’t know what he’s actually thinking.
But we know what he has finally appreciated.
*You can watch “Sound of Metal” now on Amazon Prime.
