Director: Emily Carter
Writer: Emily Carter & Lucy De Silva
Cast: Lizzie Meech
Running time: 8mins
A 2022 study conducted at King’s College London collected data from more than 1,200 people through an application that collected their experiences in urban or rural life, and found that seeing or hearing the birds was linked to more positive feelings and a greater sense of mental well-being. That’s not just a fleeting boost – the impacts lasted as long as the next day.
Exactly why that is has been the subject of hours of discussion on The Blindboy Podcast alone – and I’d recommend giving it a listen at length sometime. But in part, it boils down to millions of years of evolution. Bird song has a distinct impact on the mental state of human beings, because our ancestors learned the connection between avian song, and safety.
When birds, who have a keen eye for danger, feel safe, they can devote their time to singing for the sake of courtship, or to lay claim to territory, or perhaps just for the joy of it. But when a predator is around, after alarm sounds, a deathly hush will descend on an area. The early people who noticed that association are largely the ones who survived our brutal origins.
It is no coincidence, then, that one of the most gut-wrenching moments of Emily Carter’s breathtaking student film No Light Here hinges on bird song. Trapped in an abusive relationship (a subject matter which IFL critics have regularly seen mishandled by filmmakers), the nameless protagonist lives in a world of darkness and solitude. But perhaps most disconcertingly, she lives in a world of silence. Carter, and co-writer Lucy De Silva keep the dialogue to an absolute minimum, while contrary to our expectations of film generally, we largely find ourselves in a noiseless stillness. And the longer we sit in the absence of the sound, the more filled with dread we become, the more keyed in to the desperation of our protagonist’s situation.
A key aspect of this, of course, is also Lizzie Meech’s lead performance. Anyone who has been in a similar situation will also recognise her mannerisms here – not just the desolate thousand-mile stare, but the faint spark of life which flitters into view, the moment her character has the time and space to collect her thoughts – and even to hope. To do so much wordlessly, with just your posture how you hold your gaze, is phenomenal work – I assume related to some kind of background in non-verbal performance (which also comes into play during a spellbinding performative dance sequence – a break from the crushing realism of the wider film, but one which is entirely earned).
In that space where there actually is light here, the beautiful warmth of the sun’s rays is first matched, not by music, but by bird song. For the first time, along with our protagonist, we are able to feel some semblance of comfort – the reassuring chorus letting us know for a moment we are safe. Following on, is a beautiful piece of music from Ayman Meddour. But when that moment passes, Carter’s film stands apart in its field from so many others, who might have been tempted to reinforce the horror of this scenario with an overbearing score. Because, far more upsettingly, we instead crash back into silence.
Complemented by stunning cinematography from Dylan Dawes and Charlie Ball – ranging between sweeping, desolate landscapes; and shadowy, claustrophobic images of domestic life – we get one of the most chilling, evocative depictions of domestic abuse I have seen. Meech’s character is both stranded in an endless wilderness, and cramped and confined without room to breathe, let alone think. But while there is plenty of horror, plenty of darkness, there is still room for glimpses of defiance, of hopeful bird song – and contrary to the title – of light. To any survivor, past, present or future, that is a depiction worth its weight in gold.
Let’s not stop short at student cinema. This is a high-watermark of independent cinema. An example of what is possible with ambition, imagination, and perspective. The filmmakers might be young, but they have displayed an impeccable maturity in this project. Aware of the limitations of their resources, they have worked around them to deliver film which might seem deceptively simple – but through its innovative sound design, delivers startling, socially and emotionally impactful results. I have high hopes for whatever comes next from these artists. Amid the gloom of the world, there is still light here.
