Berberian Sound Studio (2012)

Berberian Sound Studio is that rarest and most delightful of things: a genuinely original movie. Directed by Peter Strickland, it features the excellent Toby Jones in the lead role as a sound engineer who travels to an Italian film studio to work on what is clearly a horror movie, although the director objects vehemently to that label. Part of the film's strength comes from the fact that we never see a single frame of the film that is being made and that Jones is working on; appropriately, we only hear it. This gives the viewer a lot of freedom to imagine what has been filmed, especially if one is familiar with the Italian giallo tradition of horror film that Berberian is clearly referencing. I hesitate to call it an homage to the giallo, however, precisely because Strickland's film is gore-free (and for that reason might disappoint a certain kind of horror fan). What we are treated to instead is a subtler kind of violence that pervades the whole film and the film-making process, seen most explicitly in the interactions between those who are in control of the making of the film (all men) and their exploited employees (all women). At first, Jones' character seems excluded from this dynamic, partly by virtue of his Britishness and partly because he has never worked on this kind of film before. As the film progresses, however, Jones becomes gradually infected by the atmosphere of violence that not only soaks the atmosphere of the studio but also seems capable of altering the nature of reality (for example, towards the end of the film, Jones' character begins (without any explanation) speaking Italian fluently). With a sense of helplessness, we watch Jones gradually turn into a kind of monster who is as willing and able to torment the women he works with as any of the other men. Most interestingly, Jones' transformation also starts to be reflected in the very texture of the film itself, as scenes repeat, Jones becomes a character in his own film, and the line between reality and illusion becomes ever more blurred. As a reflection on gender roles in horror film, and as a distinctly old-fashioned tribute to and warning about the power of film, Berberian has a lot to offer to viewer who is willing to look beyond the absence of blood.