In this chapter we talk about Primavera Sound and the most recent 'Papa Sound'. "And is this news?" is the question we often see in the comments of news about gossip magazines and pop culture. And, obviously, they are not news that occupy the front pages of newspapers, but they are issues that we often discuss with friends or family around a table or at the bar counter. And this is what we do in this podcast: move to a venue to review some social chronicle news that serve not only to keep up with the most outstanding gossip, but also to talk about love, friendship or breakups.

At a moment of weakness, one might be tempted to agree with viewers who believe that The history of sound is fussy, soporific, and cutesy. It would be to deny the evidence that the film has a languid narrative, that the love story it tells is presented in a dull manner, and that the overall production of the film sometimes seems as if it were designed to be accompanied by the hashtag #OnePerfectShot. But if we think twice, in the end, there's no need to agree with them. Because if the sixth film by South African director Oliver Hermanus is this way, it's because, clearly, it wants to be. It's a stylistic choice, a fully conscious vote for creative rigor.

The adaptation of book by Maggie O'Farrell The film opens with the protagonist nestled in the woods, viewed from a bird's-eye perspective that emphasizes how organically she fits into nature, like a baby in its mother's womb. Chloé Zhao's film thus deviates from the novel's opening to underscore its singular element: the centrality and autonomous identity of the protagonist, Agnes, who doesn't become William Shakespeare's wife until well into the narrative. From the outset, the film establishes how Agnes embodies a heterodox, yet idealized, model of femininity: the woman who doesn't conform to social or intellectual conventions, instead connecting with forms of experience and knowledge linked to the natural world. Zhao, therefore, sets aside the point of view of Hamnet, the young son of the main couple who gives the story its title, whose subjectivity doesn't take center stage until the dramatic turning point—a challenge the director resolves convincingly. O'Farrell's successful novel immerses the reader in Agnes's world through sensory experience. Zhao opts for a restrained, precious aesthetic that avoids academic constraints. However, in comparison, it feels somewhat flat. His most interesting decision is to film many interior scenes frontally, thus evoking the perspective of a theatrical audience. For example, when the son's room is left empty, it creates a continuity with the stage on which the father is staging a play. HamletAnd the idea of ​​trafficking, which visualizes the transfer of the child, makes sense. The entire final section, the theatrical performance, acquires an undeniable cathartic power, thanks also to the immense talent of Jessie Buckley, the actress who best embodies the role of the "normal" woman in contemporary cinema.