They say silence is golden. While this is not necessarily always true in real life, in films, it is a mighty storytelling tool. How so? Let’s discover why together!
A disclaimer first. Under “silence,” we don’t mean “silent films.” That’s an entirely different topic and a crucial part of the motion picture’s history. However, on this occasion, we dive instead into silence as an abstract concept, observing it from different angles. This might sound a bit abstract at first, but stick with me – by the end, you’ll have a set of clear, practical techniques you can apply to your films, scripts, and stories.
Why is silence as a storytelling tool so impactful?
There is an excellent exercise for directors to try out whenever they notice something is off in the dynamic between the actors. (We discuss these kinds of techniques here, but let me tell you about this one anyway). Imagine you’re rehearsing a dialogue scene, but for some reason, it sounds like characters spill out lines one after another, and that’s it. No tension. No connection. Dull. Now, try this: Take one of the actors to the side and tell them to count silently to five once their partner has finished talking and before they respond. Repeat the scene and observe how everything changes.
We didn’t give them any new direction. No emotion was inserted into the scene, merely the silence. Yet, it profoundly affects both of the actors. One will have to deal with an uncomfortable pause that his or her partner creates; the other will have an urge to respond immediately. You will see the change in their faces, in their voices, in their bodies, and in their energy straight away. Why? Because we humans tend to avoid discomfort. Unexpected silence in a dialogue can indeed be very unpleasant, as well as something that hinders your ability to speak.
Silence as a storytelling tool in dialogues
Prolonged pauses in dialogue affect not only the acting but also the viewer’s emotional response to the scene. That’s one of the reasons I felt somewhat anxious when I watched the following short student film from Vienna called “Nelly’s Story.” The title on YouTube says it’s a short “about a child-influencer,” but it offers many more story layers to uncover. If you have 19 minutes, I recommend watching it and paying attention to the tools the creators use to raise tension. One of which is silence. It is the silence in the dialogues when the mother cannot really comprehend the situation or doesn’t immediately have an answer to a question. But it is also silence of another quality…
Tell me a story without telling a story
…Namely, avoiding discussing the real, underlying, and all-consuming conflict. Did you notice how this short film delivers snowballs at just the right moments, escalating the tension and making the situation unbearable for the mother? First, the locked door, then the locksmith calls the police, and the police officers, in turn, involve the firefighters. The protagonist is in sheer panic. But what led her to this state? Only these things floating on the surface? No. Her problem is more profound. She either can’t or chooses not to talk to her daughter, avoiding the topic of the breakup with her father. As viewers, we’re aware of it all along, but the characters leave it unspoken—and it’s this disconnect that creates the film’s tension.
Not talking about something important, rather than talking about it? It reminds me of something. Ah yes, “the great and horrible” subtext!
Touching on subtext
Recently, we wrote about effective dialogue and gave some examples, which you can read here. One of them belongs to the master of subtext – Quentin Tarantino. As you may remember, in “Pulp Fiction,” his characters don’t talk at all about the cruelty and gore happening around them but rather about hamburgers, the Bible, etc. Yet, in one of his other movies the underlying subtext makes the drama hit us hard – “Inglorious Basterds.” For example, in the scene below. At first glance, it might seem like a casual conversation about milk, rats, and other trivialities, wrapped in fake smiles and delivered with Christoph Waltz’s friendly tone. However, as we know what is at stake, the scene feels so tense it’s almost unbearable to watch it.
In his MZed course “Cinematography for Directors,” seasoned filmmaker and film school educator Tal Lazar also touches on the topic of subtext. He explains the difference between the plot and the story. Whereas a plot is a series of events connected through cause and effect, a story goes much deeper:
Story or a meaningful series of events which begins somewhere at a specific time or place and arrives somewhere is often referred to as subtext.
As Tal explains, great films use cinematography to tell the story rather than the plot. The central idea is that you construct effective images that communicate the internal state (and development) of your character without words. How do you do it? That’s another topic that we touch on here and here. However, it seems that silence as a storytelling tool and the visual subtext often go hand in hand.
Literal silence as a storytelling tool
Of course, we can also observe silence from a more literal perspective, as in “the absence of sound.” Let’s rewatch the subsequent scene from “Star Wars – Episode VIII: The Last Jedi” as an example:
In the last moments, Vice-Admiral Holdo (and the commander of Resistance) slices through the enemy’s flagship at lightspeed. It’s her sacrifice to cripple the First Order fleet. A powerful and also rather emotional moment. “Star Wars” normally has a mighty sonic landscape consisting of a pompous score and loud signature sound effects, yet, when the explosion happens, everything is suddenly silent. We observe how one ship after another blows up and bursts into flames without any noise, making us gasp for air. The contrast (of the visual and audial fields, as well as of how it felt before and how it feels now) makes this scene even more dramatic, and it definitely remains in our memory.
Music or no music?
Another technique rooted in literal silence is the absence of music – typically a constant presence in films. If the composer did their job well, viewers won’t even notice the score because it becomes an organic part of the story, just like the camera movement and the acting. Thus, when it’s not there, we unconsciously feel that something is different. Quiet. Weird. Tense. Nervous. Think of “No Country for Old Men.” Over the course of 122 minutes, there is no background music, and it adds loads of the overall tension to the story.
Why? Suddenly, we perceive the movie as very close to reality. In “normal” life, we don’t have a score that subtly pushes the story forward or emphasizes emerging emotions. So, try that out if you want to increase the immersion or make a scene get under the audience’s skin. For example, this trick works brilliantly in the psychological horror “The Blair Witch Project.” The movie generally has a documentary vibe, filmed handheld with a “daddy cam” look. At the same time, the absence of a conventional horror/thriller score makes the film even scarier.
Rules and restrictions encourage creativity
That reminds me of “Dogme 95”–the Danish filmmaking movement founded by directors Lars von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg. Their goal was to create films based on the traditional values of story, theme, and acting while excluding technological support (for instance, artificial lighting or any camera stabilization systems) and special effects. For that, they wrote a manifesto and defined a set of rules to be followed if you wanted your film to be accepted as a “Dogma” film. One of these rules was: “Music must not be used unless it occurs where the scene is being shot.” Oftentimes, restrictions are great for creativity. They push us to look for different solutions, which can lead to hidden treasures. Like silence.
What about you? How else can we use silence as a storytelling tool? What other film examples of using subtext or the absence of sound come to mind? Let’s talk further in the comments below!
Feature image source: a film still from “Star Wars – Episode VIII: The Last Jedi” by Rian Johnson, 2017.
Full disclosure: MZed is owned by CineD.
Additional source: “The Film Director’s Bag of Tricks” by Mark W. Travis, 2011
