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. 

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.

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.

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.