Sound of Metal: Disability Representation

Sound of Metal (2020) follows the story of Ruben, a heavy-metal drummer, who loses his hearing as a result of his lifestyle. He’s living in a van, touring with his loving partner, Lou, and is generally leading the life he wants to live. When his hearing loss sets in, Ruben is devastated - a common buzzword found in any description or review of this film. He is a fish out of water, and the world around him is suddenly foreign and unrecognizable. Ruben, pressured by Lou, joins a rehabilitation clinic for hearing impaired people, where he feels he does not belong. With the help of a mentor, Joe, and peers, Ruben begins to become acquainted with his new life and even welcomes it with open arms. Along the way, he stumbles and falls, desperately trying to assimilate back into a hearing world.

This Prime Original film garnered much attention from film buffs of all backgrounds. At once, viewers were struck by the technical skill that went into the film, most notably sound design. The talented cast was also outstanding, with a stellar performance by Riz Ahmed. Sound of Metal immediately lured avid music movie watchers in with the promise of the story of a drummer, a fellow music lover, who becomes devastated by his loss of hearing. The film’s marketing targets this audience of viewers so gracefully that I hadn’t realized how completely inconsistent my expectation of the film was with the actual film and storyline until after the credits rolled. The premise is exactly as advertised; a drummer does lose his hearing (spoiler alert). But the aftermath of this event is shocking and heartbreaking, and not at all in the way I, nor many other viewers, had originally anticipated. He had not lost his love for music, his ability to play, and he most definitely did not lose any sense of community. Instead, Ruben’s will to return to the life he led before was the real tragedy, whilst ever so apparent to the audience that his new life was truly invaluable.

The film has also gained support from people in hearing-impaired and deaf communities for its honest and thoughtful representation of disabilities. An Instagram post by @cpandm_e entitled ‘Contrary to what many movies portraying disability tell us…’ expresses the many problematic tropes that movies often reinforce. Of particular relevance is the point; “disability does not need to be overcome.” Sound of Metal emphasizes this point by showcasing the disappointment of the community as Ruben seeks out a cochlear implant, a decision that the community feels implies the necessity to remedy a disability, and negates the validity and joy of being part of the deaf community.

Another point stated; “disabled people are not automatically and continually bitter about their disability”, a sentiment which the film also expresses by highlighting Ruben’s newfound friendships and sense of purpose found in working with deaf children, particularly his euphoria in teaching them to play the drums. Of course, there is a steep curve for Ruben to get to this point, but the film also displays the lives of many other deaf people who are content with themselves and their lives, which helps Ruben get to this point, too. It is worth noting, though, that despite the representation for disabled people, the film still employs a hearing actor to portray a disabled character. Disabled communities are calling attention to this practice of “crippling up”, which does not help disability representation.

Whether or not a viewer has experienced hearing loss or any type of disability, one can immediately sympathize with Ruben as he yearns for the way things used to be, and the way things could have been. There’s something to be said for Ruben’s feeling of longing - a hopeless yet comforting feeling - which functions here as dramatic irony, whereby the audience feels compassion for Ruben, yet wishes he could see the happiness that is so attainable right in front of him.

No matter how caring and compassionate the deaf community is, Ruben still experiences grief. This is not necessarily the grief of losing his hearing, but of losing a life with his loving partner and his music at the center, (or at least the way he had known those lives). This change was thrust upon him without warning, and coming to terms with it is a frustrating journey for the audience, as Ruben attempts with futility to reassemble his old life. It’s a rollercoaster of heartbreak and happiness, joy and despair, and we’re all just going along for the ride.