Sound Design for “The Rule of Jenny Pen” #5 - Dialogue

A series of posts on Sound Design for “The Rule of Jenny Pen” (5 of 5)
Director: James Ashcroft

When filmmakers discovered synchronised sound, dialogue kicked music off the throne, to become the most important aspect of the film soundtrack. For the vast majority of films, the spoken word became the main storytelling medium. Actors rose to the top of their games with their excellent performances and delivery of lines. Hence, capturing and preserving these performances became crucial. 

Our dialogue department was particularly meticulous in saving every dribble, every flubbed utterance by the ailing characters, every supercilious chortle and pompous sigh. As well as this, we recorded a multitude of offscreen lines and vocalisations: nurses offering their patronising platitudes to the residents; overworked staff calling out to each other; sick, injured and frightened residents just offscreen, mumbling, chewing, laughing and sometimes even screaming. These little extras contribute to an oppressive sense of chaos and stress, as the well-meaning workers struggle to cope with their immense workloads. 

With a film like Jenny Pen, we were able to subvert some of the technical conventions. This was due to Stephan’s descent into his illness. As his mind becomes disconnected and fragmented, his vision and hearing become similarly affected. His visual and sonic nightmares begin to invade his waking life. Likewise, we aren’t quite sure whether that doctor’s line we just heard is happening at that moment, or is in Stephan’s memory, or perhaps even some kind of waking nightmarish hallucination. One scene that completely upends the cinematic breakthrough of having synchronized sound (thanks to Gretchen Peterson’s excellent picture editing) is the one where Stephan has his appointment with the specialist. The specialist’s lines come haphazardly, but in every shot he isn’t speaking. He remains the only character whose lines are deliberately never in sync. The voice of hope and authority in modern medicine is literally disintegrating, very poignantly adding to poor Stephan’s confusion. 

There are several moments where the dialogue echoes and repeats, glitches and becomes disembodied from the speakers’ actions, at least from Stephan’s perspective. DOP Matt Henley also made some exquisite choices; most notably, shooting with the use of mirrors. Several times, a tense or pivotal scene is shot via a convex surveillance mirror. In one, a prowling Crealy antagonises the nurses late at night. We see the reflection of his actions of course on screen; but we hear his dialogue far off in the surround speakers. Immediately disconcerting, the audience is treated to a hint of what Stephan must experience at seemingly random times, where visual and sonic information is disjointed. We feel, subtly, what our main character feels, which adds to his (and our) sense of unease. 

Mixing all these unconventional elements together was where James’ intention was crucial to understand. Being the only person who had an overall bead on the project, from actors’ performances to cinematography to music and sound, it was up to him alone to gauge whether the story was shining clearly enough through these ‘artsy’ bits. 

Some of his best directorial decisions in my opinion were in taking these sonic risks and letting them loose on the audience.