of the apes in the prologue reflect Kubrick’s point
of view that aggression and violence have always
been a part of the world—indeed, that such behav-
ior removes the distinction between such concepts
as primitiveand civilized. The sounds of switches,
latches, and doorways on the space shuttles have a
peculiar hollow sound all their own. The electronic
sounds emanating from the monolith reflect its
imposing dignity, but also mirror the awe and fear
of the astronauts who approach it.
Although Werner Herzog usually shoots his
visionary movies with direct sound (meaning that
it is recorded on-site), he frequently augments that
sound with haunting musical scores by the German
group Popol Vuh. These sounds, as well as Herzog’s
very deliberate use of silence, are part of what ele-
vates such films as Aguirre: The Wrath of God(1972),
Nosferatu the Vampyre(1979), and The Enigma of
Kasper Hauser (1974) beyond being mere poetic
movies to being philosophical statements about
human life. Aguirrerecounts the failed attempt of
Don Lope de Aguirre (Klaus Kinski), a sixteenth-
century Spanish explorer, to conquer Peru and find
the fabled city of El Dorado. From the opening to
the closing moments of this extraordinary movie, it
is clear that Aguirre is mad. Indeed, Kinski’s per-
formance as Aguirre leaves no doubt that he is pos-
sessed by ruthless ambition and greed.
Herzog’s style is frequently called “hallucina-
tory” (as well as “visionary”) because it produces a
feeling in the viewer of being somewhere between
fantasy and reality, which is exactly where Aguirre
is. In the opening scene, in which Aguirre and his
forces slowly descend a steep mountainside toward
a river, most of the action is shot in real time, help-
ing us to understand just how arduous and danger-
ous the expedition will be. The primary sounds are
people’s low voices, footsteps on the path, and Popol
Vuh’s minimalist score, which mixes electronic and
acoustic sources with choral monotones. This
music makes clear Herzog’s view of the futility of
Aguirre’s quest. Thus at the end, when Aguirre is
alone on a drifting raft spinning slowly out of con-
trol on the river (photographed impressively from a
helicopter, which, of course, we do not hear), we are
not surprised to hear this musical score again—
except that now Aguirre too seems to understand
the futility of his quest. This reuse of music rein-
forces the prophetic nature of the director’s point
of view.Rhythm
Sound can add rhythm to a scene whether accom-
panying or juxtaposed against movement on the
screen. In Citizen Kane(1941; sound: Bailey Fesler
and James G. Stewart), in the comic scene in which
Kane moves into the Inquireroffice, Orson Welles
uses the rhythms within overlapping dialogue to
create a musical composition—one voice playing
off another in its pitch, loudness, and quality (see
“Sound in Orson Welles’s Citizen Kane” later in this
chapter). In Atom Egoyan’s The Sweet Hereafter
(1997; sound: Steve Munro), two conversations
overlap, joined in time but separated in on-screen
space: Wendell and Risa Walker (Maury Chaykin
and Alberta Watson) talk with each other while
Mitchell Stevens (Ian Holm) speaks with his daugh-
ter, Zoe (Caerthan Banks), on a cell phone.
A montageof sounds is a mix that ideally includes
multiple sources of diverse quality, levels, and place-
ment and usually moves as rapidly as a montage
of images. Such a montage can also be orches-
trated to create rhythm, as in the famous opening
scene of Rouben Mamoulian’s Love Me Tonight(1932;
sound: M. M. Paggi)—one of the first films to use
sound creatively—in which the different qualities
of sounds made by ordinary activities establish the
“symphony” that accompanies the start of the day
in an ordinary Parisian neighborhood.
Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro pay homage
to Mamoulian’s sound montage in Delicatessen(1991;
sound: Jérôme Thiault). One comic scene in the film
functions like a piece of music, with a classic verse-
chorus-verse-chorus-verse-chorus pattern. When a
butcher, Monsieur Clapet (Jean-Claude Dreyfus)
makes love to his mistress, Mademoiselle Plusse
(Karin Viard), the mattress and frame of the bed
squeak noisily and in an increasing rhythm that
matches their increasing ardor. As the tempo
increases, we expect the scene to end climactically.418 CHAPTER 9SOUND