Sound of Noise is a surreal and ever so slightly barmy Swedish comedy designed to make you look at your household and everyday items in a completely new light. What the film lacks in budget is substituted by the huge ideas incorporated within the story by directors Ola Simonsson and Johannes Stjärne Nilsson who build a world around the ideals of a fine art project.
Sanna and Magnus are two musical mavericks, determined to break away from traditional convention yet they find themselves frustrated at the small scale impact their projects appear to have on their home city. The first of which is seen as they speed down the motorway pursued by the police. Magnus manically beats the drums in the back of their van whilst Sanna revs and changes gear in time with their signature metronome.
That will give you a heads up of the running theme throughout the film. They want to make a bigger impression with their work by pushing the musical scope of the city, making people stand up and listen to their passionate creativity. The bottom line is they want to dispose of the rubbish music they fear is ruining their soundscape.
Meanwhile Amadeus (Bengt Nilsson), a tone deaf police inspector, picks up on their trail that slowly develops into a personal journey to overcome the years of frustration spent as a side note amongst his own family. His father was a world renowned classical composer and his brother Oscar, a childhood musical prodigy, continues the family tradition as a leading composer in the country.
A familiar cops and robbers theme develops between the inspector and the musicians, although never over complicated or serious enough to detract from the light and fun tone so evident throughout.
The 'musical terrorists' build their movement around four signature pieces of work in the city, incorporating inanimate objects and whatever materials lay nearby. It brings to mind the work of Matthew Herbert, a classically trained British electronic musician who pioneered the use of everyday objects into the modern electro movement.
These set pieces are a joy to behold – wonderful short snapshots of music that are warm, catchy and in the case of the last 'Electro Love' quite poignant.
Firstly they take a famous patient 'hostage' in a local hospital, then proceed to play music in, around and actually on him, using the operating materials and machines to get the beat and rhythm formed. The bank is next; except they do not want to steal the money instead shred it through the machine whilst the sound bounces off the stamps being hammered behind the desks.
Each example gradually grows in scale making the fourth and last by far the most impressive and one of the most original ideas I have seen on or away from film.
Scaling up pylons and across the gigantic electricity lines, they shut down half of the cities power supply then use them as chords to reverberate their final piece deep into the city. The stakes are then raised as they play with the power on, creating a rhythm with the power source so the whole city becomes subject to the throbbing lights played in time. Shops, houses, office blocks and whole streets switch between dark and light in a fantastic crescendo leaving you to wonder how such a small film pulled off such an expansive visual treat.
Dig a little deeper and you could use this as an analogy for the young generation to have their voices heard, something indicated later in the film when the cities musicians are rounded up. I could also sit here and pick out some of the flaws with the characters or plot but there would be no point to that at all.
Just enjoy the feel good factor, stretching the boundaries of your imagination that will leave a content smile on your face as the bossa nova outro sees you through the door.
Sanna and Magnus are two musical mavericks, determined to break away from traditional convention yet they find themselves frustrated at the small scale impact their projects appear to have on their home city. The first of which is seen as they speed down the motorway pursued by the police. Magnus manically beats the drums in the back of their van whilst Sanna revs and changes gear in time with their signature metronome.
That will give you a heads up of the running theme throughout the film. They want to make a bigger impression with their work by pushing the musical scope of the city, making people stand up and listen to their passionate creativity. The bottom line is they want to dispose of the rubbish music they fear is ruining their soundscape.
Meanwhile Amadeus (Bengt Nilsson), a tone deaf police inspector, picks up on their trail that slowly develops into a personal journey to overcome the years of frustration spent as a side note amongst his own family. His father was a world renowned classical composer and his brother Oscar, a childhood musical prodigy, continues the family tradition as a leading composer in the country.
A familiar cops and robbers theme develops between the inspector and the musicians, although never over complicated or serious enough to detract from the light and fun tone so evident throughout.
The 'musical terrorists' build their movement around four signature pieces of work in the city, incorporating inanimate objects and whatever materials lay nearby. It brings to mind the work of Matthew Herbert, a classically trained British electronic musician who pioneered the use of everyday objects into the modern electro movement.
These set pieces are a joy to behold – wonderful short snapshots of music that are warm, catchy and in the case of the last 'Electro Love' quite poignant.
Firstly they take a famous patient 'hostage' in a local hospital, then proceed to play music in, around and actually on him, using the operating materials and machines to get the beat and rhythm formed. The bank is next; except they do not want to steal the money instead shred it through the machine whilst the sound bounces off the stamps being hammered behind the desks.
Each example gradually grows in scale making the fourth and last by far the most impressive and one of the most original ideas I have seen on or away from film.
Scaling up pylons and across the gigantic electricity lines, they shut down half of the cities power supply then use them as chords to reverberate their final piece deep into the city. The stakes are then raised as they play with the power on, creating a rhythm with the power source so the whole city becomes subject to the throbbing lights played in time. Shops, houses, office blocks and whole streets switch between dark and light in a fantastic crescendo leaving you to wonder how such a small film pulled off such an expansive visual treat.
Dig a little deeper and you could use this as an analogy for the young generation to have their voices heard, something indicated later in the film when the cities musicians are rounded up. I could also sit here and pick out some of the flaws with the characters or plot but there would be no point to that at all.
Just enjoy the feel good factor, stretching the boundaries of your imagination that will leave a content smile on your face as the bossa nova outro sees you through the door.