2 out of 5

Directed by: Peter Borg

An underwhelming ghost story that can’t quite settle on tone, or characterization, but manages some strong visuals and a tip-toed sense that there might be something about to happen. There… rarely is, or at least not that hasn’t been telegraphed by plenty of other similar films, but the commitment to that promise of tension at least stifles yawns for it runtime.

Peter (Peter Mitchell) is mooching off of his girlfriend, Kristen (Sarah Richards), and picking on her deaf son Dennis (Dennis Richards), which isn’t as mean-spirited as it sounds – only childish. Peter is a big ol’ man baby, and one of Sounds of Silence’s various curiosities is whether or not writer / director Peter Borg and co-writer Marc Fiorini intended for us to like Peter – there’s a character arc where he gains some maturity in dealing, eventually, with the spirits which come to haunt Dennis, but he’s also pretty much a big ol’ man baby throughout the plot setup and execution: Peter inherits a home in Sweden; the couple and kid go there to maybe sell it but end up staying; then the ghosts come out at night. The movie is up front with the hauntings, not making us fight to get to the supernatural stuff, but it also comes in pretty minimal dribbles, and with an unscaled sense of stakes that gives off harmless vibes, making it seem out of place when it spikes into moments that are above a PG range.

This is the main humdrummed sin of the movie, though, as it seems designed more out of bits and pieces than something cohesive: the childish boyfriend is a trope, but this isn’t balanced by final girl energy from Kristen; Dennis’ deafness gives, in part, the movie its title, but it doesn’t really play any role in the movie; and when we get around to establishing some rhyme and reason for the ghoulish business, it’s similarly only half there – halfway to a trope, and then left sitting so the movie can wrap up.

Apply this same wishy-washiness to the characterizations in general, which include the well-intended but unhelpful authority type, and the miserly old man villain and his Igor-esque sidekick: I’d credit that we get some solid performances (except perhaps the Igor role, played by Johnny Harborg like he’s pantomiming for a silent film), but besides the in-the-moment emotions of the actors, these characters only exist while they’re on screen; there’s no inner life for them, and there’s no inner world to the movie.

Despite this, and a very unedited slow pace, where pauses in conversations and those little moments that are generally cut (pick up a phone, pause, dial, etc.) are all left in, the camerawork and lighting tends to be pretty engaging, and although the score is sometimes hilariously out of place, it’s at least specific to the film. These are the elements that give that aforementioned “maybe the next scene will fall into place” sensibility that can keep one going, but much beyond the hour and forty runtime would be a hard stretch.