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Before we even see fear in a character’s eyes, we often hear it first – through a screeching violin, a sudden silence, or the low hum of an ominous drone. Sound is often seen as secondary to the moving image; however, it carries a profound power to shape a film’s emotional landscape.

While visuals may dominate, sound often deepens narrative meaning and mood. Maxim Gorky, the world’s first film critic, wrote that early moving images felt strange, like people “condemned to eternal silence…glid[ing] noiselessly along the grey ground”¹. Without sound, even energetic laughter feels lifeless, as if a punishment. For example, in the Lumière short “The Card Party,” the soundlessness not only deprives the card players of believable emotion but condemns them to an unnatural and inhuman world. His review shows how sound is an inseparable part of making cinema alive. What we see ultimately becomes more vivid and emotionally resonant when paired with what we hear. The absence of these details in earlier silent cinema made even joyful scenes feel uncanny, underscoring Gorky’s insight that sound doesn’t just support image – it animates it.  Modern filmmakers would realize this power and use it deliberately, allowing sound not only to accompany action but also to interpret, enhance, or even contradict it, giving film its full expressive range.

As Béla Balázs writes in Theory of the Film: Sound, “close-up sounds” like footsteps, a breeze, or a quiet voice, function like visual close-ups, revealing a scene’s psychological depth and emotional texture². Sound has the ability to render the internal external, capturing fear, nostalgia, or tension in ways visuals alone cannot. In Casablanca, the simple piano melody of “As Time Goes By” evokes nostalgia and also foreshadows the emotional reappearance of a long-lost love. The scene remains visually understated, yet the diegetic music provides psychological weight, allowing us to feel what the characters cannot yet say.

Silence—that is, momentary silence—also profoundly impacts a film. It is not an absence, but a powerful effect that creates spatial depth and emotional suspense. Utilized in live-action and animation (i.e. Hunter x Hunter and Psycho), silent pauses enhance suspense and draw us into a particular point or detail in the story. However, the emotional and narrative power of silence is not limited to diegetic presentation. Non-diegetic silence is often equally effective when used intentionally. For instance, the final scene of Waltz with Bashir utilizes the starkness of complete silence to intensify a montage of death.

A soundtrack has the power to change a film. As Elisabeth Weis notes, “even sophisticated audiences rarely notice the soundtrack”³, letting it subconsciously speak to us and put us in touch with the characters emotionally. Sounds, diegetic or otherwise, add space, depth, and immersion, bringing us into a scene to feel the characters’ emotions. For instance, in Psycho, Norman and Lila’s heavy footsteps highlight the tension in the scene and make us feel their anxiety as well.

This exhibit will explore how films such as Psycho, Casablanca, and Waltz with Bashir use soundscapes, sound effects, and music to guide audience perception, elevate emotional states, and construct suspense.

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Clip from Casablanca (dir. Michael Curtiz, 1942), Segment [32:40–33:32] – Sam plays “As Time Goes By” for Ilsa Lund in Rick’s Café.     

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Clip from Casablanca (dir. Michael Curtiz, 1942), Segment [32:40–33:32] – Sam plays “As Time Goes By” for Ilsa Lund in Rick’s Café.     

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In the scene where Sam plays “As Time Goes By” in Rick’s Cafe from the movie Casablanca requested by Ilsa. As the gentle piano melody starts, the surrounding ambience fades, thus isolating the sound and immersing the viewer in a moment of deep nostalgia and emotional tension. However, as the camera remains relatively still and short dialogues, the piano melody then carries the dramatic weight. Ultimately it becomes a tool to bridge the past and the present, also foreshadows the sudden re-entry of Rick and the reactivation of Ilsa’s buried emotions.

Throughout this scene it exemplifies Balázs’s concept of “acoustic close-up,” he defines that the moment when “intimate voices, and made them speak to us separately in vocal, acoustic close ups; when these isolated detail sounds will be collated again in purposeful order by sound montage,” and reveal emotion that would otherwise remain overlooked⁴. While Sam’s piano becomes an emotional lens, focusing attention on Ilsa's interior world. This quiet melody thus functions as a close-up for the ear, and offers a psychological insight before any visual cues occur.

Overall, this scene supports the exhibit’s theme: how music and soundscapes shape audience perception and emotional tension. The diegetic music guides the viewer’s emotional response without the existence of dialogue. While Sam’s performance becomes more than a song – it anchors the scene in a shared memory and emotional depth. Finally, this moment demonstrates how even simple sound can drive narration and intensify tension without much visual spectacle or verbal expression.

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Casablanca : Warner Home Video : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive

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Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart), who owns a nightclub in Casablanca, discovers his old flame Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman) is in town with her husband, Victor Laszlo…

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Clip from The Best of Walt Disney’s True‑Life Adventures (dir. James Algar, 1975 compilation), Segment [YouTube 0:51–1:59] – Two jawfish engage in a territorial struggle, accompanied by light orchestral music and subtle underwater sounds.

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Clip from The Best of Walt Disney’s True‑Life Adventures (dir. James Algar, 1975 compilation), Segment [YouTube 0:51–1:59] – Two jawfish engage in a territorial struggle, accompanied by light orchestral music and subtle underwater sounds.

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In this segment from the film The Best of Walt Disney’s True-Life Adventures, two jawfish engage in an intense competition over a shared burrow between the segment 0:51 to 1:59. As they compete for the rock back and forth, competing for control over the entrance, the light orchestral music highlights their back and forth movement – while playful, and deliberate. However, as there’s no dialogue between the fishes, thus allowing the music and the underwater ambience to take over the emotional stage. This scene also highlights Baláza’s argument that silence and sound together can intensify meaning and drama. He writes, “the facial movements of a silent figure may explain the reason for the silence, make us feel its weight, its menace, its tension”⁵. Here, the jawfish takes on this expressive role. Their silent competition over the rock gains narrative tension through the film’s sound design – gentle music turns their small struggle into a compelling moment filled with emotional depth. The scene functions as an “acoustic close-up,” allowing the audience to focus their attention on the subtle gestures and movements that might otherwise be overlooked. The combination of the minimalist soundscape and precise musical cues guides viewers' perception, making the small-scale animal interaction feel both intimate and meaningful. Ultimately, it makes it a perfect example of how sound – and its careful usage– can elevate the emotional impact of a scene, even without any dialogue or traditional human drama being displayed.

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The Best of Walt Disney's True Life Adventures Clipping (1975)

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Clip from Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960) - Lila finds out the truth about Mrs. Bates as Norman searches for the intruder.

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Clip from Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960) - Lila finds out the truth about Mrs. Bates as Norman searches for the intruder.

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In this Psycho scene, the most prominent sounds are suspenseful music and footsteps. Balázs’s point that sounds are heard differently “if we know that it is a warning of impending deadly peril” applies here⁶. Our awareness that the scene is building towards a climax, something is wrong with Norman, and Lila is nearing the truth, transforms everyday footsteps and the door slamming into a “warning”—specifically, heightening the suspense towards the big reveal. As Weis notes in Sync Tanks, sound provides space, depth and immersion⁷. Here, Norman and Lila’s footsteps and the door slam situate the audience within the house, focusing us on the search. This adds realistic depth and increases apprehension for the scene. Heavy footsteps subconsciously connect us with the characters, letting us feel their tension.

Suspenseful, discordant string music gradually increases in volume as Lila searches. It peaks as she finds the basement door, then drops, creating a brief silence filled by the creaking door. This diegetic sound further immerses us, making us feel anticipation and nervousness. The music resumes with long, ascending notes, reaching a scream-like pitch as the revelation occurs. Overall, sound is aptly used to create and heighten suspense, drawing the audience into Psycho's world, sending shudders down our backs as if we were right there with Lila.

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The Truth About Mother - Psycho (11/12) Movie CLIP (1960) HD

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Clip from Episode 51: A x Brutal x Battlefield of Hunter x Hunter (Yoshihiro Togashi, dir. Hiroshi Kōjina, 2011) - Chrollo dedicates the massacre of the Mafia as a requiem to Uvogin.

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Clip from Episode 51: A x Brutal x Battlefield of Hunter x Hunter (Yoshihiro Togashi, dir. Hiroshi Kōjina, 2011) - Chrollo dedicates the massacre of the Mafia as a requiem to Uvogin.

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At the beginning, there’s a moment of silence as Chrollo raises his hands to ‘conduct’ a requiem for his fallen comrade. As Balázs notes, cutting to silence with a closeup (here, of Chrollo’s hands) gives the subject its significance and tension that seems to provoke the following events⁸. Chrollo’s near-ritualistic gestures amplify the anticipation of an imminent turning point in the story. The weighted pause emphasizes his resolve, hinting at the menace of the ensuing bloodbath.

Furthermore, Balázs writes that “the reflected effect of the music…[suggests through] the listener’s facial expression some experience touched off by this musical effect”⁹. As triumphant orchestral music swells, it is immediately re-contextualized as foreboding as we see the massacre play out. The following close-up of Chrollo’s solemn, determined expression at 0:49 highlights his grief and willpower. Concurring with Balázs, this music is a window to his soul. His decision to commit mass murder as a ‘requiem’—signified by the glorious music—shows his distorted moral compass and reveals to the audience his terrifyingly apathetic character. Overall, this scene’s use of sound highlights the chilling nature of the events unfolding within the story, and the combination of Chrollo’s expressions and the music/lack thereof guides our perception of him and his Troupe’s roles in the story as indifferently brutal murderers.

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Clip from Waltz with Bashir (dir. Ari Folman, 2008), Segment [1.22.12-1.23.10] - Video footage scenes.

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Clip from Waltz with Bashir (dir. Ari Folman, 2008), Segment [1.22.12-1.23.10] - Video footage scenes.

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Although permeated with the sounds of violence and war, Waltz with Bashir still maintains an excellent usage of silence to convey its message of trauma. This brief clip represents one such moment where a cut from the screaming survivors of the Sabra and Shatila massacres forces us to view the bodies of those who did not survive. The imposition of a distinctly non-diegetic silence – signified by the lack of ambient sounds – upon this graphic montage of lifeless forms not only contrasts effectively with the previous shot of vibrant but also communicates the hopeless loss of identity in death. According to Balázs in his theory on silence, “there are thousands of different sounds and voices, but the substance of silence appears one and the same for all”¹⁰. This imposition of total silence homogenizes the affect of death in agreement with Balázs’s theory and is in many ways crucial to Folman’s presentation of mortality. Just like the soldier who could no longer hide behind his “camera”, so too are we forced to step outside the protection of diegetic sound and witness the truth of death in its depriving silence.

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Waltz with Bashir (2008) BURNED ENGLISH SUBS- Ari Folman - DVD003574

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Clip from Grave of the Fire Flies (dir. Isao Takahata, 1988), Segment [1.16.41–1.18.38] – Setsuko's final moments.

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Clip from Grave of the Fire Flies (dir. Isao Takahata, 1988), Segment [1.16.41–1.18.38] – Setsuko's final moments.

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Another sonically intricate example of subtle sound presentation and silence is displayed in this scene from Isao Takahata’s Grave of the Fireflies. After perceiving her deteriorated condition, Seita’s initial enthusiasm for seeing Setsuko again is instantaneously shattered, with sudden tears springing to his eyes. Although one of the most emotionally poignant moments in the film, this scene does not rely on a swell of instrumentals or a dramatic cry to communicate emotional depth. Ambient elements–such as a light rustling of trees, the faint sound of running water, the rustling of Seita’s clothes–permeate the “tonal milieu” with a soft and natural sense of space while the intensity of Seita’s fear is shown in his eyes and facial contortions¹¹. As Balázs comments, “the physiognomy of [someone] is more intense when they are silent”¹². Indeed, the aural landscape of Seita’s sadness–the silence of his cries coupled with a barely audible natural backing condenses his emotion to its simplest manifestations. With no need for an overly evocative score or piercing lamentation, Takahata presents grief in its purest form, devoid of non-diegetic dramatization.

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Two orphans fight for survival in post-World War II Japan, but society is harsh and they struggle with finding food and escaping the hardships of war. Watch trailers & learn more.

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Film Studies Final Project Bibliography and Footnotes