GLR January-February 2026

FILM

The Music Lovers

I CAME TO The History of Sound with high expectations, given the cast ing of Paul Mescal ( All of Us Strangers ) and Josh O’Connor ( God’s Own Country ) as Lionel Worthing and David White, respectively. The two young men bond over their love for the mournful folk music of isolated, rural American com

man responding enthusiastically to the other. But as the tenor of the film precludes a full-throated erotic charge, their assigna tion is barely explored until the next morn ing, when the nude landscape of Lionel’s back as he lounges alone in bed suggests that the men’s attractions were fulfilled, and then he finds a handwritten note from

A LLEN E LLENZWEIG

The History of Sound Directed by Oliver Hermanus Mubi

David arranging a follow-up date. So begins a romance on the down-low in a time when it would have been impossible to express their affection publicly by word or gesture. Mescal plays Lionel as a quiet observer, and in his tweedy suits and wire-rimmed glasses, he seems like a taciturn music prodigy of the era. Meanwhile, O’Connor’s more privileged David, with his charming grin and voluble pres ence, reveals his aim to collect examples of rustic ballads ex pressive of both tenderness and heartache. World War I intercedes when David is called up and stoically accepts his fate. On the eve of his leaving, Lionel quietly com mands him: “Don’t die.” More than a year passes before Lionel

munities. I knew the film was set before and after World War I and that “gay love” probably would not have been a concept that either character could put into words, but this could be an opportunity for something new to blossom. From the start, the film maintains a tone of emotional aus terity, as an early voiceover by Chris Cooper, speaking as the much older Lionel, retrospectively identifies himself as a coun try boy raised on a Kentucky farm. He explains how his musi cal and vocal precocity sent him in 1917 to the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston, where we see him join other male students at a local bar one evening. Amid friendly chatter and the haze of cigarette smoke, the atmosphere is further soft

receives word from David, who tells him to meet him on the first of January at the train sta tion in Augusta, Maine. In the back country of that state David leads Lionel on daily hikes, seeking out cottages and farms where residents might share beloved songs they’ve nursed since childhood. As a local husband and wife or father and child sing for their audience of two, David records them on wax cylinders. His aim is to collect and archive a whole history of regional music as a practitioner of the emerg ing discipline of ethnomusicology. We may well wonder at the physical effort of these treks that Lionel and David take through the Maine woods, passing through a palette of burnt browns and dirty grays. The

Paul Mescal and Josh O’Connor in The History of Sound.

film’s cinematography catches nature at its least pastoral, stress ing instead the rough footworn paths that lead the two men on to each momentary stop, where locals offer mild hospitality. At night they sleep in a tent, so their private affections have the rustic cover of camping. Ben Shattuck’s screenplay, based on a pair of his short sto ries, might have allowed for a more visible expression of love between the two, though in Oliver Hermanus’ direction we find that the focus of their story is the torment of feelings repressed or withheld. When David proposes that Lionel seek a teaching position at the conservatory where they met, he’s really sug gesting a way for their relationship to find a place of respectable shelter. Lionel’s rejection of this idea means that the two will separate, at least for now. Instead, Lionel continues to roam, and we lose sight of David. Lionel’s travels take him to sunny Rome, where there’s

ened by the sounds of a pianist accompanying himself as he sings a folk ballad. Recognizing the song, Lionel quietly strolls over and watches the pianist. This is David, whose mild but en couraging response to Lionel’s interest seems appropriate and polite, barely hinting at any hidden motive. Thus begins a friendship based on a deep and enthusiastic commitment to the music of small towns and hamlets across the South and up into New England. But we quickly learn that this pair of musical aficionados is as much in thrall to each other as to the folk songs that they hold dear. Indeed in this first en counter, when they resist the least emotional expression, we are delighted but surprised when they let down their guard and ar rive at David’s residence, ostensibly for another friendly drink. Almost without warning, the interaction turns physical, each Allen Ellenzweig, a longtime contributor to these pages, is the author of George Platt Lynes: The Daring Eye (Oxford Univ. Press, 2021).

TheG & LR Continued on page 46

50