#also I haven’t made an animatic in AGES so it’s a little rough but it’s fine

[soepwashere]

Mad Dogz Video Call gone wrong

I could not for the life of me find the source of the audio, so here is the video that inspired this instead!

[letterboxd]

Life in Film: Michael Tyburski.

The Sound of Silence director Michael Tyburski shares some insights into the making of his debut feature, and answers our new “life in film” questionnaire.

In The Sound of Silence, Peter Sarsgaard is Peter Lucian, a house tuner in New York City who believes that the notes emitted from a household’s appliances must harmonize in order to bring peace to its residents. However, his state of mind collapses when he struggles to apply his methods for a new client, Ellen (Rashida Jones).

Directed by Michael Tyburski and based on a short film he made with co-writer Ben Nabors in 2013, The Sound of Silence debuted at the Sundance Film Festival and stood out for its “remarkably silly” unique premise and strong performance from Sarsgaard. Fans of ASMR, get your headphones out; the film’s sound design will trigger those sensations.

The Sound of Silence started life as your short film Palimpsest. Is the ‘house tuner’ occupation at all based in reality? Michael Tyburski: The short answer is no, it’s a fictional profession. The character idea is something that my co-writer Ben Nabors brought to me. Right away, I loved the idea of a practise where someone shows up at your door and offers you a solution to the emotional problems that you’re having.

A lot of alternative therapies exist in New York City so it didn’t seem so far from reality that people would take someone intellectual, dressed well in a tweed blazer, with professional-looking tools, seriously. I really liked that as a conceit. We tried to base it in real science and looked at sound engineers and acousticians for what tools they would use. We tried to make it exist in a very real New York City; that’s why we have touchstones like the character being profiled in The New Yorker.

How has your research into music theory affected your own domestic space? Actually, I moved, for the first time in ten years—after living on a pretty noisy commercial street—during the course of developing and making this movie. Somehow, during the edit, I made my first apartment move within New York City, to a much quieter street. I also took a cue from the main character, Peter Lucian, because I moved my office below my apartment, in a subterranean space. At least I can control the sound a little bit more now that I’m cut off from the surface level, similar to the way Peter does it in his “fallout shelter”.

Michael Tyburski and Peter Sarsgaard on the set of The Sound of Silence. / Photo: James Chororos

The character Peter Lucian feels like a perfect fit for Peter Sarsgaard. When did you have him in mind? He was my first pick. I knew I wanted him from the beginning when I first started thinking about who would be the perfect house tuner. I feel so lucky to have him and fortunately the script resonated with him right away. He’s someone who’s very musically inclined and he plays a number of musical instruments. I was so gratified that he connected to the part so closely.

He’s such a chameleon of an actor. He can play a lot of dark roles, but also he has a very scientist-like intellect. I also think he has one of the best voices, it’s very unique and I enjoy hearing him. So for a movie about sound, it kind of seemed fitting that someone with those types of qualities would work for the role.

What was important to you about keeping Peter’s house-tuning technology analog instead of digital? I think he’s just someone who has the philosophy of “if it’s not broke, don’t fix it”. Even though his tools are a little more dated, they’re still as effective. They might not be as efficient as digital technology so he’s a little slower, but they still work. There is at least one sound engineer in New York City who we found in our research who measures the sound in rooms, and there’s one thing called a spectrum analyzer that we use in the film that we completely got from this guy’s tool bag.

Director Michael Tyburski.

The film is carefully crafted and you have Peter obsessing over every inch of New York City. What degree of obsession did you have in the making of the film? I’m pretty obsessive as an individual in general. I like to be very organized and have everything mapped out. We had been developing the screenplay for so many years that I got tired of reading it, so before we made the movie, the first thing I did after Peter came on board was sit down and record the entire script in audio format. I kind of had this radio edit of the movie. That transitioned into a rough animatic of the film that I put into the timeline and I was able to add in location references, tonal reference photos, dialogue in different room tones, and then music.

Logistics-wise, we only had 21 days to shoot the movie which is very conservative especially because we had a lot of ground to cover, but I just needed to be as efficient as possible, so it was helpful to have that thorough, animatic tool.

With all the technical departments it was a very close collaboration and I like to be very involved in all details. For the sound design, I wanted to re-record all of the tuning forks, which were kind of an aural motif through the film. When you’re shooting in the elements, you don’t always have the control over the environment, so I hand-recorded each one of the tuning forks myself. We were aiming for that level of precision.

We’d like to ask a few questions about your life in film. What was the film that made you want to become a filmmaker? My choice is probably not that unique but when I was 13, maybe a little too young, I got a VHS copy of Pulp Fiction. That stunned me and took me from A to B. It shook up how I thought contemporary American stories could be told.

Which film do you think is the best love letter to New York? Annie Hall, closely tied with Midnight Cowboy. I suppose I love that era of New York.

Which film has the greatest sound design work of all time? There’s a lot, but one of my favorites is Play Time.

Nice choice. Greatest production design of all-time too. Yeah, not bad. I used a few frames for my look book.

Jacques Tati’s ‘PlayTime’ (1967).

Which is the most overlooked performance from Peter Sarsgaard? I loved him in Experimenter, which I think is an underrated film. More recently too, Errol Morris’s Wormwood. I don’t know how many people went down that rabbit hole because it was long, but I think he was so good in it.

What films did you watch to prepare you for The Sound of Silence? There were three that we were looking at, for a lot of different reasons. We watched Jonathan Glazer’s Birth for the mood and that fairytale vibe it has in a mysterious, alternate New York City.

Being John Malkovich for its bizarro version of science, and I love the naturalistic quality to that film. And obviously The Conversation for its production design and how it follows a man obsessed with sound.

This is a nicely-timed, autumnal, gentle film. What films give you those peaceful autumn vibes? My favorite is Hannah and Her Sisters.

What mindfuck movie changed you for life? I’ll have a couple Kubrick on this list, but for this probably A Clockwork Orange.

It’s Halloween next month. What movie do you watch every Halloween? The Shining! There’s my next Kubrick.

As a teenager, what film character felt like a total mirror to what you were feeling at the time? One of my favorite coming-of-age films is Harold and Maude. I definitely identified with Harold.

What’s your go-to comfort movie? And how many times do you think you’ve seen it? My favorite film of all time, which I promise will be my last Kubrick, is Barry Lyndon. I think it’s just a perfect movie and I’ve certainly seen it dozens of times. I think it does everything I want in a movie. I don’t even know what genre to call it because it’s funny, it’s dramatic, it’s an epic. I love the idea of doing a perfect epic movie that covers a lot of ground.

Stanley Kubrick’s ‘Barry Lyndon’ (1975).

What film do you have fond memories of watching with your parents? We were a big Chevy Chase household and National Lampoon’s Vacation holds up as a fine movie.

What’s a classic you could just not get into? Maybe Brazil. Admittedly I think I need to rewatch it because I first saw it when I was 14 or 15 and I just didn’t quite get it at the time.

What classic are you embarrassed to say you haven’t seen? Two Kurosawa films; Rashomon and Seven Samurai. They’re always on my list to brush up and they seem to come up in conversation more and more.

Which movie scene makes you cry the most? Definitely the holiday classic It’s A Wonderful Life.

What film was your entry point into non-English language cinema? That was a good one, I like that question. I remember when I was in my freshman year of high school I was given two VHS copies from someone who knew I was getting into film. One of those films was Persona, but then the other one, which I knew I watched first, was a film called Woman in the Dunes.

What filmmaker—living or dead—do you envy the most? If Kubrick, go for living… If it’s Kubrick go for living? Oh my gosh.

I feel like you’re going to say Kubrick. Yeah. Envy is a funny word. Kubrick has an admirable career for the depth of his filmography. You know, like a lot of film nerds I’m a huge Paul Thomas Anderson fan.

Christopher Nolan’s ‘The Prestige’ (2006).

What’s a film that you wish you made? I would love to make a movie about magic but ever since I saw The Prestige I think it would be hard to compete with that. That period, that Victorian era of illusion, I don’t know if you can top that.

It’s time for best-of-decade lists. What’s the greatest film of the 2010s? If we went back even further it would be easier. For the last 10 years, I think Phantom Thread is pretty great.

‘The Sound of Silence’ was released on September 13 by IFC Films and is in select cinemas now.

[whimsicat]

It’s been a slow day today. After the long and somewhat unpleasant workday yesterday--ten hours for the record--I appreciate the peace today. It’s raining outside. It’s about 9pm as I type this and I have to go for a shift tomorrow from 10am-3pm, which is not bad really. I’m currently addicted to listening to Broadway animatics, particularly Heathers the Musical, and I’m doing okay money-wise and health-wise.

Why is it then that I still feel so sad?

I have this deep, constant sense of feeling lonely. Probably because I am, in truth. I haven’t actually hung out with people my own age in a long, long time, though it’s not as though I’m unpopular or anything at work. It’s like I have a wall up and I can’t seem to fully connect with others. There’s some people I’d be okay with hanging with if they asked, and others that have asked but I’ve declined because I don’t drink alcohol and they usually just want to go drinking--and one girl gave me a strange look when I say I don’t drink, but I’ll go just to talk.

I have friends online, friends that I’ve had for years and years. Some I’ve seen in person, some I haven’t, some I will finally see when I go to a convention in February. That’s exciting. There’s one friend I talk to every day for hours at a time and she’s, unfortunately, also my long-lasting unrequited love.

I don’t really want to say “crush” at this point. i had a “crush” on someone who I’m no longer friends with because we had a falling out, though the conclusion at least was a mutual break off instead of a huge flare of drama. I’ve been in love with this person for around...six years, or so? Most of our friendship, give or take a year.

The problem is, this friend has known of this crush and rejected me around three times over the years. My feelings for them tend to come and go, but it always inevitably returns when my many other crushes in the past get rejected. I’ve written numerous posts on my horrible luck with love so I won’t repeat myself here.

I want to get over her. I do. I want more than anything to get over her. We’re friends first and foremost and have remained friends--unlike with the other person--even when we had a rough patch because of relationship problems and emotional toying. We’re perfectly fine again, now, more or less. It’s not awkward or anything. We’re regularly up to around 3-5am talking. Just...talking.

We both like to write, though she claims I’m the better writer. We make up entire stories and write back and forth to each other, RP’ing our own OCs in grand, elaborate plots. It’s almost always somehow romantic, especially our current magical school storyline. 

Gods, the amount of romance we’ve written. I forget sometimes I don’t know how a kiss or a hug or anything actually feels, that I’m just writing my assumptions on it, or copying how other people describe it. Writing two characters in loving relationships kinda makes my pain feel better, but inevitably it’s like over-indulging in some kind of substance, because my misery as the recollection hits me that I still haven’t had a single person date me before despite multiple efforts, leaves me teary-eyed. Some nights, it’s outright crying.

But the cycle continues.

My friend’s told me before about how she doesn’t think love is for her, or how she wonders if relationships will ever work out for her, after the failure of her last one. 

I want to scream. Make some kind of grand romantic gesture. What are you talking about?! I’ve loved you for years!! Let me show you how much someone loves you!

But she already knows my feelings. And still will not date me, despite being close friends with me. I simply don’t understand it. But I don’t want to sit around trying to change her mind. I just want to get over her then. Get over her so I don’t beat myself up again and again, wondering why I’m not good enough, wondering why my best friend bemoans her relationship luck yet simultaneously won’t even test what it’s like to date me. 

I remember once a while back, I broke down, asking why not? Please, why?

She admitted to not having an answer. 

That’s kind of...worse. It made me feel terrible. Why? She didn’t even know. My best friend doesn’t know why no one wants to date me, including her. I don’t either. So I just sit here second-guessing everything about myself. Looks, personality...something fundamentally broken that no one will ever be able to find. A glitch in the system. A factory error. A malfunction.

My friend’s been out all day today, having an actual life. I’m curled in bed with my laptop wishing I looked different or my voice was cute, or at least that I didn’t laugh like a hyena.

It’s misery like I can’t describe. I’ve written long posts on this subject but no matter how many times I try to put heart to words, nothing properly explains it.

Tonight, I think, I will write a lot on it. Just get it all out. So maybe I’ll repeat myself after all. Maybe something will connect on the off-chance someone reads this, and understands even a little of what I’m going through.

Or perhaps it’s just a way to pass time. Either works.

I suppose you could call me ungrateful for my gift. I love writing, and plots, and everything therein. I like to analyze movies and video games and I smile with excitement when something’s clever and and gleefully mock something when it’s terrible; this makes my older sister complain that I never enjoy anything because I examine it too much, but that’s not true. I enjoy things deeply when they’re good. And I pick apart things I like, even. It’s just what I do. She’s a counselor, so I point out it’s my version of analyzing people all the time, and she actually did acknowledge my point, so that’s something.

Anyway, why am I ungrateful? Because no one cares about writing. My parents sure don’t. They’ve never read a single thing I’ve created, not school assignments, not original work, and of course (I don’t expect them to) not fanfiction. My siblings don’t really read my fanfics and stuff either, though they’re more encouraging and will at least let me talk to them about my stories. My little sister--gods bless her--will talk with me at length about it. 

I’m also a bit jealous of her.

She’s a wonderful, wonderful artist. I’m so happy she’s so talented. I show my friends her stuff when she posts online and I commission her (though she’s baffled as to why I think I should pay her when we’re family) but it’s my way of supporting her. Not only that, but she talks to me about her own ideas, about a web comic she wants to do, and I love her stories. So original and charming.

I wish I had her talent.

No one really wants to read my stories. I’ve sent them to people. My older sister read a few chapters of something but dropped it and never started the second thing. But if I was an artist, all I’d have to do is show someone a picture and they could gush over it. Like when my parents coo over my little sister’s art. But my parents never once read my stuff. They just tell me “you’re going to be a famous author one day” but couldn’t tell anyone what I even like to write.

I’m a good writer. I think this much. I just wish I wasn’t. I wish I could draw as well as I write. I wish when I was younger I decided to pick a pencil up instead of reading books and wanting to write sweeping tales.

What was I thinking.

I never know what my younger self was thinking.

If there was one thing in my life I could change, just one, I would want to wave a magic wand and make myself a social butterfly. Ever since I was bullied in 7th grade, I’ve had a rough time connecting with others. Everything was beautiful my freshman year, but when we moved to another state (again) and I ended up in a tiny country town in Missouri, I became so apathetic and pained from losing everything again--because my father was in the military, we moved every 2-3 years--that I shut down. I finally gave up. And I dropped out of high school, only getting my G.E.D. years later. I have my Associate’s now and I’m going for my Bachelor’s in Sociology, with the intention of doing case-management and other work like that, but...gods. I wish I could go back and make myself social. Create high school memories that don’t suck. I was bullied in tenth grade and I dropped out in eleventh. Tenth grade in particular was horrible.

All of this stays with me. I just wish I could be charming. I’m apparently pretty funny according to my coworkers, but anxiety and depression and suicidal impulses have dogged me all my life. Like now. I’m always worried.

You will never meet someone who likes herself less, and I’ll tell you exactly why that is. As stated before, I’m 22 years old and I can’t get a date. No one has ever held my hand before. Even online, I’ve never had people confess to me. I’ve certainly confessed to other people, several times, but I always get let down.

So look back. I bet, to whomever may be reading this, you have some kind of relationship experience. It may not be the best, but you can look back on the excitement of a first kiss or a first love, when it was beautiful in the early stages; (or, if you’re still dating, now). I don’t have that. I don’t have any positivity associated with the word “love”.

And yet, I crave it desperately. It’s become almost like a mythological concept to me. Love, nirvana, heaven. A destination that I will one day reach if I do something, something, something.

And you know what happens, right?

I look back on every rejection and I crumble a little inside. Why not? What’s wrong with me? The first time, sure, she was out of my league and I knew it. At least she was nice about it. But what about after that...? And after that? How many times will I be rejected? Why not? Why not me? What’s wrong with me? What do I have to change, who do I have to become?

One person confessed to me. They even asked me to date them. My biggest regret in life so far is not saying yes. I was afraid, due to our somewhat complex, differing views on a lot of subjects, that we’d not be good for each other that way, though at the time we were good friends. I was afraid that I’d say yes just to date someone and not out of love, and I thought they deserved someone who loved them wholeheartedly. My friends told me not to date them. They said it’d be nothing but drama because of this particular person’s reputation. In the end all of these conflicting points had me think I probably wasn’t ready to date, and they deserved better, so I said the truth: I don’t think I know what love is, I’m sorry, I need some time. They were extremely nice about it. Understanding.

They’ve since moved on to a new crush. Someone near them. I wish them so much luck. I just wish I had said yes then. That I had given it a try. Because that was about two years ago and no one has ever said I love you since.

Maybe that was it. My one shot. And I missed it. Now I’m sighing and casting longing looks at my best friend and wishing she’d look my way and realize I know her so, so, well, better than anyone, and we could be good. I know we could. 

I just wish I was...something. Cooler. Prettier. I wish sometimes I had a different skin tone, that I was taller or not flat-chested. I never feel like a girl or a boy so I suppose that makes me nonbinary, but I don’t care about gender in the slightest. Hi, hello, I’m pansexual and I just want to like someone for who they are. Boys and girls are cute, and anything else. I can find something cute about anyone.

I wonder if I could be beautiful. If I were beautiful, maybe someone would look my way for once.

What if I let my hair grow out, if I got piercings or put on makeup for once. What if I stopped wearing Zelda shirts and carried name-brand purses, or learned how to walk without looking down or away when I pass people. What if I figured out how to be pretty in the way someone wants?

I wish and I hope that it’s something as simple as my appearance when it comes to my lack of “real-life” romance. Someone will at least look my way if I’m beautiful.

But I know...the problem is just...”me”. Because online, it’s just the same thing. No matter how warm and supportive I am, how much we talk, how much we have in common. I get the same message back, the same gentle voice on a call or video chat: “Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

My most hated phrase. I’ve heard it from everyone.

The problem is just “me”. And how can I change that? I’ve tried. For years, I’ve tried. I’ve...given up.

My biggest fear is that I’m going to turn 25 and be out of college or just about, and I still won’t know what it’s like to have someone call me their girlfriend. That I’ll never know what sex feels like, or a kiss, or have someone get all giddy because we’re having a date that night and they’re nervous, and I can see it in their eyes.

The feeling is oppressive. Humbling. Sobering.

I want to be beautiful and wanted. Instead you’ll see me living vicariously, writing romantic fanfiction and (hopefully, if I decide to live that long) adventurous fantasy stories with a dash of romance. Escapism for some poor teen in a miserable high school, trying to find someplace better, just like I did.

I told my friend I think I’m over them because I thought if I wrote it, maybe she’d believe it, but I don’t think she did. I also thought maybe I could convince myself of the fact. We’re going to see each other at the con in February with some friends. The worst part is I don’t know how I’ll be.

I’ll hug her for sure. I just hope I don’t do anything stupid. Life isn’t like a manga. She won’t magically change her feelings because I kissed her or something reckless. I’d more likely ruin the weekend. I entertain silly thoughts, but nothing will happen. I know I can control myself. It’ll be nice just to see her...

I used to wonder if maybe she just didn’t want to ruin our friendship in case we broke up. But then she casually mentioned on a call once about how one of her friends going with us to the con is also an ex. I felt my heart twist at that. So it’s not that. She still has friends who she used to date.

It’s just me.

Again.

She doesn’t want to date me.

I know it sounds so dramatic. I know. But I love her. I love her. I love her more than anyone I’ve ever had feelings for, and I’ve known her for years. She’s not dating now and I’m always lowkey hoping she’ll have an epiphany one day. That she’ll wake up after we talked to 6am again and think about how we laugh at the same things, about our joke where we both say “I was just thinking that!” That maybe she’ll feel something.

But at the same time I’m not. I just want to get over her if she won’t change her mind. I don’t want to be bitter toward her. if she doesn’t love me I can’t say I blame her.

i just want to fall for someone who can give me a reason why she loves me. Who’ll say something instead of “I don’t know” when I ask why?

I want someone to look at me and say, “Angel, you’re beautiful.”

And I want to believe them.