There are plenty of famous films and cinematic moments that use silence artistically, and there are those that were silent by default before the invention of synchronized sound.
Since 2011’s The Artist, however, there has not been a use of silence in film so dynamic as the box office-erupting hit that dropped just two weeks ago.
A Quiet Place, the brainchild of director/actor John Krasinski, and writers Bryan Woods and Scott Beck, is perhaps the most popular mainstream horror film since It, and for good reason. Since the first trailer came out, I heard scores of people talking about it, all of them fascinated by the one predominating factor that many filmmakers have left behind–silence.
Krasinski stars as “Lee Abbott,” the father of a family struggling to survive a post-apocalyptic state wherein most of the world’s population was killed by nameless creatures of unknown origin. The catch is that, while these creatures–which look like a cross between the creatures in Alien andPredator–are blind, they are equipped with unbelievably strong hearing, enabling them to hunt down prey from miles away if it so much as sneezes.
Naturally, this creates some problems for the Abbott family, and, because silence is such an important policy for the family, it’s also one for the film itself. This means the majority of the dialogue is in sign language. There are long unbroken scenes with no music or ambiance, and the score and sound mixing are positively Oscar-worthy in their effect. The viewer is suspended constantly in the middle of it all, waiting in agony for the next sound to disrupt the silence and endanger everybody’s life.
The premise is already a nightmare from the get-go, but Krasinski sadistically tosses in every imaginable worst-case-scenario as well. The daughter “Regan” is deaf, meaning she can neither hear the creatures’ approach nor how loud she herself is. Lee’s wife “Evelyn” is expecting a baby in a couple weeks, which, sound-wise, is equitable to an involuntary suicide. These and other catastrophes make A Quiet Place heart-stopping and the single tensest cinematic experience I’ve ever endured.
Unlike many such thrill-filled movies, A Quiet Place is not without heart. The relationship from one family member to another is relatable and makes for some pretty tear-jerking moments as the situation worsens and brings out some truths that, in all this quietness, were never expressed. This also gives the film a bit of a conceptual edge, though theme and commentary are its weak points. The viewer still is likely to walk away with some kernel of truth lingering in their mind–you know, under the gallons of stress and anxiety that come with it.
After the credits began and I exhaled for the first time in 90 minutes, I left A Quiet Place certain of three things: My hair had turned over 50 percent white, I had just lost 10 years of my lifespan and this is the single best film I have reviewed all year.
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