filmbore pick of the week - Berberian Sound Studio

Berberian Sound Studio

Director: Peter Strickland

Screenplay: Peter Strickland

Starring: Toby Jones, Cosimo Fusco, Fatma Mohamed, Antonio Mancino

Year: 2012

Languages: English, Italian

UK rental release: December 2012

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My awards season proved popular so I thought I'd begin another. With the recent confirmation of the speculated prequel to The Shining (what!?) and the pending remakes of Carrie and The Evil Dead (new version dropping the "The" from the title) it seemed fitting to start my next blog festival on the genre of horror.

In true filmbore style, however, I won't be partaking in any of these remakes (see my article on the subject here and you'll see why). Instead I'll be looking at some independent and non-English speaking pictures of recent release and previous. There is a severe lack of decent horror out at present, and has been the case for some time, so I hope to remedy that by reviewing some alternative horror pieces that may intrigue you...starting with Peter Strickland's reality busting Berberian Sound Studio.

Gilderoy (Toby Jones, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, Infamous), a timid, reserved sound specialist, starts his first day at the Berberian Studios. He awaits at the door of Berberian Studio 4, the "Silence" light pulsing to the sound of a heartbeat, unifying anticipation and audio. He's been brought in by an Italian film company for his expertise in mixing sound. Yet, he's presented with a different type of film to what he was expecting - not an equestrian film, as promised, but a Giallo horror.

He is not a sociable man, a vibe picked by his new boss, producer Francesco (Cosimo Fusco, Angels & Demons and Italian TV star). An abrupt man, Francesco is feared by some of the crew. During the start of his employment, Gilderoy has to argue constantly with the producer just to get his flight expenses reimbursed. He also struggles initially to get a meeting with the movie's director, Santini (Antonio Mancino), who is far more charismatic. He's proud of what's he's created thus far, which we assume is horror about a witch's curse. Santini believes it is not a horror though, but instead a movie that reveals the brutal truth behind some historical events.

There is strange relationship between both Santini and Francesco. In fact there's a feeling of the untoward between the entire crew; something is underlying, tangible but untouchable. This is felt most with the animosity for Gilderoy felt by the studio staff. By distancing himself however, he starts to notice the unease between them all, as he watches them patiently to the sounds he's recorded, accentuating a possible terror amidst them. Is he paranoid? Or does the soundscape assist in revealing the truth behind his new habitat?

Within all of this he finds a mild companionship with one of the artists, Silvia (Fatma Mohamed), who also feels the air of mistrust within the crew. She starts confiding in Gilderoy, but is she playing a game with him? Or does she bear some truth in what's happening around them?

Something is definitely amiss here. Why hire a man who doesn't engineer audio for horror? As Gilderoy questions his right for involvement on such a project, the haunting sounds start to plague him, causing detriment to his mind and he begins to break down as reality bends on a film he can't bear to work on.

British director Peter Strickland has delivered a near unclassifiable picture. It does belong to the horror genre, but does stand individually amongst it's brethren. Some of this applaudable segregation is due to some alternative filming techniques, almost alien sounds and interesting storytelling methods.

The film does present itself in a number of acts: timetables segment each chapter of sound that Gilderoy works on as we see his mental being unfold through his medium.  Stockpiles of used food from Foley recording build up as the tale moves forward, rotting away in their heaped state, as they are segued into mirrored shots of the studio equipment, which on occasion start withering itself. There are startling but welcomed interludes with the ADR  (Additional Dialogue Recording) scenes, where we view the artists from outside the vocal booth in soundproofed space. There is total silence, with just the expressions and oral contortions as the performers lay down their tracks.

The technique that brings the most impact amongst all of this is in that the Giallo movie's scenes are described instead of visualised. We never see what's on screen, which is a brave but, luckily, genius approach, allowing us to concentrate on the characters and the audible universe we are presented with. 

And what sound there is to appreciate! As we enter the world of Foley (recording the manipulation of household objects and degradable substances for sound effects - a dream job for many, including myself!) there are highlights of some captivating recording techniques. For example, we see how a blender and some Pasata can be used to great effect to generate the sound of a chainsaw cutting through flesh. Yet, beyond all of this the sound department on this film had to be of a standard worthy of the source material. I'm pleased to say that, in this area, Berberian Sound Studio is a triumph. There is some incredible sound design here, sometimes marrying with the recordings that our characters are manipulating, while at the same time drawing us away from normality with some absorbing and provocative audio. 

Strickland pairs the aural with the visual perfectly. From the off, we open on wonderful close-up shots on recording equipment - a motif that he perpetuates throughout the picture. It's shot very atmospherically, with slow pans and uncomfortable close-ups to breed anxiety in the audience. There's also some good use of side lighting to add to the claustrophobia.

This apprehension is thrived upon by the actors. The relatively unknown cast (Cosimo Fusco is probably more recognised as Rachel's Italian squeeze, Paolo in the US TV comedy behemoth, Friends) do a great job at crafting a bewildering sensation of discomfort through their disconnecting personas. They're a rich collection of characters that gently meld to create the necessary environment to throw curve balls at Gilderoy. 

Standing above all of this is the victimised lead. English born Toby Jones is a great casting choice for our troubled sound engineer. He's had some strong roles over the years, only really receiving big opportunities more recently. Here, his subtle performance holds together a film that could appear confusing, as he allows you to buy into this surreal world.

A Lynchian world, if you will. There is no disputing the dream-like sense of awareness in the film that is so intrinsically bound in David Lynch's pictures. Yet, this movie has a personality of it's own thanks to it's simmering, nervous dread. Tension slowly builds throughout, and you're never sure if something's going to happen (and I won't say either way in case I spoil it for you). These hidden expectations; the anguish of the unknown - feelings that hark back to some of the best classic horror around, such as The Wicker Man and Rosemary's Baby. This sense of urgency and unease is generated from the tormenting journey the picture takes you on, experiencing the events through the alienated mind of Gilderoy. It's a unique take on horror - a distant connection to the genre while still completely enveloped by it.

A thoughtful homage to the sound techniques used by 70s British studios, while still nodding to the revered Italian genre of Giallo, there's no ignoring the fact that Berberian Sound Studio has seriously split audiences - this may not be for everyone. But if you're bored of the same, standard horror fare and want to step into the unknown, treat yourself to this and behold one of those rare things...an art-house horror. 

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