*minor spoilers ahead*
I recently watched the Oscar winning film, The Sound of Metal and couldn’t help but ugly cry throughout its entirety. As an addict stumbling to find my way down the path of sobriety while not in complete control of my senses, I deeply resonated with the plight of the film’s protagonist. The movie is about a musician, Ruben (played by the remarkably captivating Riz Ahmed) who, happy in his routine of traveling the road with his lead singer/lover, making them breakfast and smoothies to enjoy in the bed of their airstream, and playing loud rock shows, is suddenly disrupted when he loses his sense of hearing. His sense of control over his sobriety is also put to the test.
This isn’t your typical movie about addiction. You never see the addict use, buy, relapse, or really even mention what it is they are addicted to. He is simply an addict. The movie is not addict-porn, the way A Star is Born is, or even a different 2021 Oscar film, Another Round could be considered to be. Those movies framed their addict characters as desperate and doomed, and addiction as another person’s problem.
What the character is addicted to is not the point in The Sound of Metal, nor is Ruben’s fall from grace the plot, although there are moments in the film where you fear that might happen. The possibility of him using again hovers over you throughout the film, and it makes you hold your breath. But while you watch, you get to the heart of the story, which is dedicated to the simple human act of being.
To qualify this point is one of the most poignant scenes of the film: Ruben is getting used to life in a sober living and deaf community. Still isolated from others and barely able to understand sign language, he attempts to make himself useful, wandering the property looking for things to fix. Joe, the deaf man in charge of the recovery group, spots Ruben mending roof shingles and urges him to stop immediately so that they can talk. Joe carefully signs to Ruben that he needs to stop. Stop looking. Stop fixing. Stop doing.
He asks that Ruben, instead, sit and be still. He tells him to write his thoughts down if he needs to, but mostly just to sit and quiet his mind. This is not only understood as a way for Ruben to process and come to terms with his new deaf life, but to fully grasp his life in recovery as well. As I mention in my post, Tiki Temptation, when finally given the opportunity to sit in silent solitude and be fully content, my mind quickly jumped to alcohol. I didn’t know how to be still, and believe that this will be an ongoing struggle for me.
Ruben was able to stave off addiction before he became deaf by filling his life with distractions. He was always on the move; he was traveling, playing music, and dating. He always had things and people to keep him from sitting with his silence. When he lost his hearing, he also lost the touring, the music, and the relationship. He nearly relapsed. Even when he found a new community and a new sense of purpose, he truly struggled to just be. He was uncomfortable with being content, and looked for a way to somehow return to his former life. But he found that that life no longer existed.
I find that a huge part of my recovery journey so far is learning how to ride the waves of change. You can survive and stay sober through a very difficult period in your life, only to almost fall back into drinking when everything is going right. It is learning to appreciate those peaceful moments - when you can just sit and be completely content.
I give The Sound of Metal 10/10.