In hard times, it's incredibly easy to think certain things. To ask yourself, "Why me? How can this happen? What can I do to fix this?" To say how effed up life is because of something that's happened to you. It could be that you got into a car accident or you flunked an exam. Maybe you lost someone you love. Or, if you're like me, you tested positive for COVID. And maybe, as you sit confined to your room for weeks, you stir and wonder what the point is. You think that someone got it wrong. And you refuse to believe it. And then, at an absolute halt brought on by the seemingly most random of things, you realize...you're where you're supposed to be. That's what Sound of Metal showed me.

In this film, we follow Ruben Stone (Riz Ahmed), a recovering addict, in the midst of his drumming career. He plays alongside his partner "Lou" (Olivia Cooke) in their band and travels across the country playing hardcore rock 'n' roll gigs. Gigs that, to Ruben's defeating surprise, begin to degrade his ability to hear. After trial and error after trial and error, Ruben finds support in a community of those with the same affliction, led by Joe (Paul Raci). Though Ruben is accepted and shows progress, we watch as he fights what is happening to him. It leads us to ask the prominent question: will we see Ruben pull through?

Point blank: I haven't written a review in almost three months. This movie brought me back. You better believe I loved it. Here's three reasons to see it and one reason to not see it.

1. Personal Performances

Riz Ahmed is an Oscar-worthy lead actor in this film. There it is. If the cards weren't already stacked with Oldman (Mank), Ben Adir (One Night In Miami), or the late Boseman (Ma Rainey's Black Bottom), he might have it in the bag. He's everything in this film: confident, lost, disoriented, arrogant, loving, cold, determined, desperate, empty, emotional, hopeful, hopeless. His range in this movie outplays virtually any role he's done before this. Usually, people will define "range" as an actor's ability to play many different roles across projects; here, Ahmed's impressively gripping range is kept to the confines of a mere two hours and played up in an orchestral fashion. What he does with the role is he finds a way to make "rough around the edges" balance with fineness in a way that holds us the entire time. He is impactfully credible in his performance. And I enjoyed every minute.

I also must take my hat off to his co-stars: Olivia Cooke and Paul Raci. Olivia Cooke brings life into this movie. She shows us the other side of loss - how it affects those we love most. Whenever things happen, there is always the direct "recipient" and then there are the people who deal with the fallout. Cooke volleys Ahmed's emotional plays beautifully, giving us a heartbreaking (yet motivating) image of what support looks like in hard times. She wears her emotions on her face so well, I caught myself inadvertently matching her looks as I felt what she felt. That same emotional buy-in was evident with Raci as well once he was introduced in act two. In each of his scenes, he is the center of attention (even if Ahmed is there) because he understands why he is where he is - and we like that in people. We love people who understand their purpose, that's appealing to us. It's even more appealing when they help others. But the age old understanding is that you can only help people as much as they want to help themselves. And Raci brings that learning to life brilliantly from the script to the screen.

From this trio to all those in the community, they made their performances feel strikingly personal throughout the film's entirety (and for Raci, it truly was).

2. Darius Marder - Bravo.

This is Darius Marder's feature debut. Not only did he write the screenplay, but he also directed the film. And, when you think about debuts in anything, you can expect and understand that if someone were to botch it...that it'd be okay! We'd probably still tell them nice things about their performance. But, here, I don't think there's much I could say to Darius Marder that he doesn't already know. Moreover, there were a few key things that could've went sideways or been off-putting that didn't and weren't thanks to Marder's brilliant foresight.

For instance, there are a number of movies where rock 'n' roll is depicted as drugs, sex, and grossness. Here, it's simply depicted as a man and woman who support each other. They have tattoos and struggle with addictions, but in the morning, they slow dance to music and eat breakfast with green smoothies. That's relatable. That's what we love to see.

Or, how about Ruben's reaction to losing his hearing? Marder could have easily found cheesy or over-the-top ways to show us a man who refused to accept what was going on. Maybe he could have relapsed violently or crashed a car. He could have put his hands on someone or broken the law and used his hearing as an excuse for such a wrongdoing. But Marder doesn't do any of that. He paints a realistic and believable picture of a fellow who's having a tough time accepting a sad breakthrough in his life. That's relatable. That's what we love to see.

Or, when Ruben gets around other deaf people and he joins the community. Those people could have been a bit more startling showing their loss of hearing. Maybe they talk "funny" and that scares Ruben off. Or the home comes off as phony and fake, with religious phrases on the wall and cliché "exercises". Again, Marder gives us a picture of a real group with real people learning to adjust to their new lives after loss. That's relatable. That's what we love to see.

Lastly, on Marder, he oversaw and implemented here some of the most impressive and complimentary use of sound mixing I've seen in order to effectively illustrate what hearing loss sounds like. It's not just on/off with some fading in and out here and there. It's pitchy, it's tonal, it's overwhelming, it's harsh, it's minute, it's painful, it's relieving even. He gives us the entire experience. He gives it to us so much so that I even had to blow my own ears out a few times just to make sure I was still all there.

3. The Message

I'm a fighter, too. When things happen to me, I tend to overplay how much I can control them. I think, at times, I can control life. How silly of me.

That's what Ruben tries to do, too. He plays along with and invests in the help that comes his way, sure. But deep down, he knows what he wants. He wants what he wants - it's that simple. And, come hell or high water, we can feel he is going to keep working at it and chipping away until he's accomplished.

Well, after a while, we get a chance to ask Ruben a question: was it worth it? We ask this because Ruben finds himself in a place where he counteracts the major piece of advice he's given by Joe, which can be summarized as "be still". But Ruben's a drummer in a rock band. He's a recovering addict in a place by himself now. He's like us - independent, will-driven, motivated, and has his own desires, wants, and needs that he can and will find a way to achieve. He lives in the twenty-first century, where we have phones, the internet, and everything else. Where life will pass you by if you don't keep up...how the hell is he supposed to "be still"?

Sound of Metal helps us see the beauty in pressing pause and simply being still. Immersing ourselves in the moment we are in. It shows us that if we constantly make the past our present, we lose our future. And, at the same time, if we remain too fixated on the future, counting down the days until something comes, we rob ourselves of the joy in the now. We forget that the future starts today, not tomorrow. There is a defining moment in being still where we meet ourselves. A lot of us aren't ready to accept who we are or where we are...that's why being still scares us. But, if you want to grow and progress, you must first accept. Then, you act. Not the other way around. Be still in times of struggle and see where it takes you.

Bonus: For those of you who have also seen Soul - *ahem*. Soul and Sound of Metal are the (exact) same movie. Think about it...o__0.

Here's one reason to not see Sound of Metal:

1. The (Other) Message

[Potential mild spoiler warning here] There is a part in the film where Joe says to Ruben that being deaf/going deaf isn't something that one "fixes", nor do the people who live in the deaf community believe that deafness is a "handicap". Additionally, despite things not being perfect or fully functional around their house, Joe expresses to Ruben that "nothing gets fixed [in the house]". Now, I've never been deaf, but I have been hurt. Sick. Broken, in ways. And each of those times, I've certainly wanted to get better and also understood how "fixing" myself would not only be nice, but probably necessary as well. And, truthfully, if something in my house breaks, I immediately jump to fix it.

In the movie sense, I get how that is inspirational in some way. However, as a takeaway, I don't know if that's necessarily a great belief to carry. If you want to try to fix something, you should feel comfortable and supported in that decision. And, please, if something breaks in/on your house, fix it before it worsens.

Sound of Metal is an eye-opening, realistic dive into one man's experience in losing a sense. In a lot of ways, it's his experience in losing all sense. It's a brash and fragile picture of overcoming loss that sifts through the noise and presents us with a thematic story of acceptance. I highly recommend seeing Sound of Metal. Some won't. Either way, I Scene That.