Reel Review: That Alien, Sound (2024)

“That Alien, Sound” is a charming indie sci-fi dramedy that explores the pain and wonder of human experience through fresh eyes.

That Alien, Sound is such a simple, sweet, sincere labor of love that’s difficult not to be charmed by.

Ostensibly, it’s a sci-fi film, but it’s much better described as an indie dramedy that serves as a love letter to music and the act of creation, and the search for identity and meaning in a world that can be utterly devastating but also extraordinary if we remember to look at it with the right eyes.

The film opens in a record store where Mika (Mia Danelle) works with her boyfriend and shop owner, Shannon (Will Tranfo). She’s rocking out to some music on her headphones. Suddenly, she screams in terror and drops to the floor. She’s crying and calling out in confused terror. Shannon rushes over to see what’s wrong.

Mika begins to say strange things, insisting she’s not Mika but a sound wave that’s somehow inhabited Mika’s body. She’s overwhelmed by the experience of being human and being able to explore the world with her senses.

As the alien sound wave, who will later be dubbed Sound by her older brother, Danelle is endearingly quirky and irresistibly charming.

She plays Sound like an enthusiastic child, full of wonder and awe, discovering something new that feels utterly magic.

Shannon, however, remains decidedly uncharmed by her new personality. Refusing to believe Mika/Sound’s story of alien invasion, he reacts with growing hostility and frustration. He wants his girlfriend back, and he assumes this new amnesiac act is a reaction to Mika’s fear of taking their relationship to the next level.

Throughout Sound’s journey, it’s easy to dislike Shannon and see him as the bad guy, especially when everyone else in Mika’s orbit is so cool and supportive, even if they think it’s just an identity crisis.

This circle of love and friendship includes her parents, Debbie (Amy Hill) and Alan (Richard Masur), her compassionate brother Deyo (Deyo Forteza) — the first to fully embrace Sound as Sound, and Deyo’s wildly cool friend group.

Deyo invites Sound to watch him and his friends, part of a terrible metal band, play a jam session, where she experiences live music for the first time.

The song is terrible, and she hates it but loves every second of the experience.

This leads to one of the film’s more poignant moments of the film, when Sound soliloquizes on the beauty of music, the resounding impact of the complex chaos inherent in sound, and the impossibility of music being bad; it’s not bad or good, it’s all in how it makes you feel.

It’s a potent reminder for all art criticism, including the act of film criticism I engage in: not everything works for everyone, but that doesn’t make it any less important or meaningful. The existence of art itself is worthy of celebration and what makes life, in all its complicated messiness, so beautiful.

The film asks us to consider what it would be like if we could experience the world as if it were all brand new.

As Sound looks for a way back home, she tries to figure out her place in the world and where she belongs. It’s a metaphor for how alien we all feel at times – uneasy, unsure, in a world still so undiscovered.

What if we could experience life with fresh eyes and an innocent understanding of the world around us? How much different would the world appear to us? How much more in awe would we be? How much more grateful for every moment and enraptured by every experience would we be?

Scripted during COVID — a universal time of struggle, confusion, uncertainty, and a forced re-evaluation of life and the world around us — it’s a message that resonates now as much as it did back in 2020/2021.

Sure, the world is full of horror, and it can feel like that’s all there is if that’s all you focus on. But there is also so much worth experiencing and appreciating, and we’d all be better served if we could look at the world with fresh eyes and consider how fortunate we are for so many simple pleasures we take for granted.

That Alien, Sound is a celebration of life in all its oft-unheralded glory, but it’s not disingenuous.

The filmmakers know the world is not all about listening to music you love, spending time with loved ones, eating delicious food, and exploring your passions. There is pain, heartbreak, suffering, and cruelty.

When Sound bemoans the fact that no one seems to believe her, she asks Shannon why everyone on Earth is so mistrusting. He cooly explains that it’s because humans lie, cheat, and kill each other. Sound insists that’s not what life is about. “I know,” he says with pangs of despair, “but it’s true.”

As a result, writer/director Brando Topp infuses the film with social commentary and discussions of heavy topics like global warming and materialism.

I mentioned Shannon was easy to dislike, but he’s trying his best. Like so many of us, he’s not comfortable in his own skin; he doesn’t know who he is and doesn’t think anyone really sees him. It begs the question: how much of the world’s evil is born out of fear, insecurity, and a lack of understanding?

With all that said, this isn’t a social horror film, and it’s not the kind of speculative science fiction that serves as a nihilistic warning about humanity’s downfall.

This is a film that understands humans can be awful and do terrible things, but we are also capable of so much love and joy and tenderness. We are capable of great destruction, but we also create extraordinary works of art that make the world more beautiful.

When the choice is between nihilism and hope, Topp chooses hope.

Topp and his life and business partner Danelle undertook this project in the true indie spirit, with little more than passion and determination.

They called on friends to help, sourced shoot-ready locations, miraculously snagged a screen legend (Richard Masur, The Thing) for a pivotal role, raised whatever funds they could through crowdfunding and personal sacrifice, and set about bringing their vision to life.

The result is a feel-good romp that’s fresh, smartly scripted, beautifully acted — especially by Danelle; she’s a revelation — sweet, funny, and thought-provoking without being too heavy.

Life is pain. But it’s also love, hope, and beauty. That Alien, Sound reminds us we all have time to be who we want to be. We all deserve second chances and don’t have to stay stuck in the ruts we’ve fallen into.

It’s magical, heartfelt, and endearing, and I loved every minute of it.