The Loudest Unsung Hero in Cinema

If somehow you were plucked from your life and dropped into a much earlier time period, you probably wouldn’t be tending crops or forging iron into armor. You’d be labeled a wizard. Or worse, a witch. Not because you can conjure a ball of fire, but because that gizmo on your wrist has to remind you when it's time to stand up. And if you happen to pull out the phone it syncs with? Oh man, it’s game over.

That’s the power of technology. It can make the impossible seem routine. Take filmmaking, for instance. The art only exists because someone built the tools to bring it to life. 

In that way, the industry has always walked hand in hand with the machines that made it possible. While I don’t consider myself a tech wiz by any means, I can appreciate the innovations that have pushed the art forward – improvements in digital tech, the rise of CGI, advances in editing software. The list goes on until finally, it lands on the one that’s easy to forget. The black sheep of the family, the innovation that showed up early, did some significant lifting, and rarely gets noticed unless it’s gone. 

Sound.

Maybe that shouldn’t come as a surprise. Film was introduced to the world as a visual experience. In 1895, the Lumière brothers hosted what’s considered to be the first commercial motion picture screening at the Grand Café in Paris. The event featured 10 shorts, each less than a minute long and none with any kind of synchronized sound. 

This period became known as the silent film era, lasting into the late 1920s. After decades of work and development, technology finally took a step forward, giving filmmakers the ability to sync sound to picture. Don Juan, released in 1926, became the first major motion picture to utilize some of this new tech. Ironically, it didn’t take full advantage of what the advancement offered, most notably dialogue. But hey, baby steps.

What Don Juan did showcase, however, was a musical score and the use of sound effects. Not long after, audiences were treated to the first feature with synchronized dialogue, The Jazz Singer in 1927.

Here’s a fun exercise for all you members of the modern viewing audience. Choose any movie you’ve seen recently. Now imagine it without dialogue, without the score, soundtrack, or all the sound effects added in post. It becomes an entirely different production, one that pretty much fails to work at all. 

There’s a reason that shortly after the advent of synchronized sound technology, silent films began to fade. That’s not a knock on silent films because they have their own relevance, but the integration of sound in cinema blew the doors wide open with new possibilities, new ways to tell stories. Dialogue, yes, was a huge part of that. Still, it’s just one part of the larger picture.

Think about how effective sound can be at enhancing a story. Sound can help create environments, introduce characters, stir up the audience's emotions, and build suspense, just to name a few.

Take an all-time classic like Jaws. The audience doesn’t need to see the shark to feel its presence. Granted, Spielberg and company had their fair share of issues with the mechanical shark, which the production team nicknamed Bruce. Yet that didn’t prevent Bruce from looming large. All those underwater shots of the shark’s approach combined with John Williams’s iconic musical score build so much suspense that it's more than enough to give the audience goosebumps. To be exact, it was just two notes that today are so memorable they’ve become synonymous with danger.

Here’s another example: Star Wars. No, not another one of John Williams’s famous musical scores. Undoubtedly, it adds a lot to the experience. However, let’s think smaller. The humming of a lightsaber, the sound they make when they strike one another. It’s one of the most recognizable audio effects ever heard on screen.

Could Star Wars have gotten on without it? Sure, in a darker and far more boring timeline. Because here, in this world, when two energy beams collide, we know exactly what that sounds like. At least, how it should in a completely fictional space opera. Don’t even get me started on the TIE fighters. Really I shouldn’t go down that rabbit hole. But next time you watch the franchise, take a listen. There’s more to it than meets the eye.

Sound. What is it good for? A whole lot. For me, it’s a no-brainer. It might not be the sexiest part of filmmaking, yet it’s easily one of the greatest additions the art form has ever received. It’s an unsung hero. Invisible to the untrained eye. Really, to all eyes.

Here’s a better analogy. Think of it more like the offensive line in football. Yes, I know. We’ve drifted to talking about sports in a post about sound in movies. Give me a fifteen-yard roughing the reader penalty, and try to stick with me. Everyone knows the skill players get all the love: the quarterback, the running back, the receivers. They score the touchdowns, they sell the jerseys, and they get the highlight reels. Still, it’s hard to imagine any of that happening without the big boys up front. A good offensive line does a lot of dirty work that rarely gets the praise it deserves.

Tell me that doesn’t sum up sound in cinema. Its contributions go unnoticed, even overlooked, yet it hits you at every turn. Fans are quick to salivate over the quarterback’s howitzer of an arm or his chiseled jawline. What does it matter if he’s getting crushed on every play? That you’d probably hear loud and clear. Because that’s what sound does. It elevates the visuals, protects them so the play can stay alive. And more importantly, it shapes what you’re watching, adding an entirely different dimension to the storytelling process. 

Now it’s time to get out there and give sound its due. Have a film sesh with your favorite movies, ones you’ve seen too many times to count. Listen for the moments when that offensive line is setting up its blocks, creating space, and springing the picture loose. 

Also, just a heads-up. If you do this right, you might hear the imaginary head coach, Charlie Sheen, on the sidelines, headset draped around his neck, pointing to the heavens as he hollers, “That’s what I call winning.”