Call of the Night: Clever use of audio to condition the viewer.
Hello everyone I am your local neighborhood u/Nick_BOI, and I am here to talk about one of my favorite individual scenes of the year. The scene in question is from the *Yofukashi no Uta Season 2*, and it is entirely contained within the last minute of the 10th episode. Be warned going forward, as below will contain spoilers for the show in question,so read at your own risk.
With that out of the way, let's begin.
After Anko’s plan to exterminate the vampires failed (a plan she knew would cost her her own life), she left Nazuna and Kou behind and walked away. However, Kou realizes that she may still be planning to die, and we hard cut to a room with only Anko and a revolver. There is no music here. She thinks back to her life, and the only sounds we hear is the gun shifting in her hand, her labored breathing, and a wry laugh.
We know that Kou and Nazuna are likely on their way, but because of where the scene cuts off, we have no frame of reference as to when they might arrive. This uncertainty, combined with the complete and utter lack of any external stimuli, builds the tension extremely quickly despite the short runtime. Anko has both the will and the tool to end her own life, and she even brings the gun to her head before taking one more deep breath. The urgency and pressure are absolutely suffocating, and it remains indeterminate if anyone is going to be able to save her until...
**BANG!!**
Kou arrives, slamming the door open.
I want to focus on that sound. I want to focus on its audible, abrupt, and extraordinarily loud arrival—not unlike one of gunfire, one that demands an immediate reaction from the viewer. Because of all the buildup beforehand, for a brief—a very, very brief—moment, I thought the gun had gone off. After all, humans generally process auditory information faster than visual information, and the scene exploits this to create a split-second panic before the tension spikes again when we see Anko still holding the gun.
This entire sequence is so short, not even a minute long, and yet the deliberate withholding of information and precise use of sound design condition the viewer so that Kou bursting in to save the detective feels like an *escalation* of the tension rather than a release. Even after we visually see that the sound came from the door and not the gun, the prior conditioning ensures that the viewer’s first reaction isn’t relief, but panic—an essential emotional setup given the struggle over the gun that follows.
The use of audio (and deliberate lack thereof), combined with the withholding of information to create uncertainty within a narratively enclosed space, is really what makes this so effective. Sequences like this take full advantage of the tools of the medium to create moments that are greater than the sum of their parts, even down to the briefest of seconds. I couldn’t imagine this scene being done any better.
With that out of the way, let's begin.
After Anko’s plan to exterminate the vampires failed (a plan she knew would cost her her own life), she left Nazuna and Kou behind and walked away. However, Kou realizes that she may still be planning to die, and we hard cut to a room with only Anko and a revolver. There is no music here. She thinks back to her life, and the only sounds we hear is the gun shifting in her hand, her labored breathing, and a wry laugh.
We know that Kou and Nazuna are likely on their way, but because of where the scene cuts off, we have no frame of reference as to when they might arrive. This uncertainty, combined with the complete and utter lack of any external stimuli, builds the tension extremely quickly despite the short runtime. Anko has both the will and the tool to end her own life, and she even brings the gun to her head before taking one more deep breath. The urgency and pressure are absolutely suffocating, and it remains indeterminate if anyone is going to be able to save her until...
**BANG!!**
Kou arrives, slamming the door open.
I want to focus on that sound. I want to focus on its audible, abrupt, and extraordinarily loud arrival—not unlike one of gunfire, one that demands an immediate reaction from the viewer. Because of all the buildup beforehand, for a brief—a very, very brief—moment, I thought the gun had gone off. After all, humans generally process auditory information faster than visual information, and the scene exploits this to create a split-second panic before the tension spikes again when we see Anko still holding the gun.
This entire sequence is so short, not even a minute long, and yet the deliberate withholding of information and precise use of sound design condition the viewer so that Kou bursting in to save the detective feels like an *escalation* of the tension rather than a release. Even after we visually see that the sound came from the door and not the gun, the prior conditioning ensures that the viewer’s first reaction isn’t relief, but panic—an essential emotional setup given the struggle over the gun that follows.
The use of audio (and deliberate lack thereof), combined with the withholding of information to create uncertainty within a narratively enclosed space, is really what makes this so effective. Sequences like this take full advantage of the tools of the medium to create moments that are greater than the sum of their parts, even down to the briefest of seconds. I couldn’t imagine this scene being done any better.
Commentaires
They know how to use both silence and sound to maximum affect.
You can do so [here](https://animeawards.moe/participate/final-vote).
And to Nick, nice post. Love how you explored that single sound's impact on the tension and tone of its immediate aftermath. Even if you low-key expect a fake-out, it still hits.
Honestly having the help coming not act like a release of tension is a tall ask, and the use of framing and sound to do this really stood out to me.
Also is it me or is the barrel of that revolver ridiculously long?
This season of Call of the Night was incredible and a step above the already-really-solid first season. And the directing of some episodes, this particular one included, was superb.
They understood the difference in medium here. While the masterful paneling and more detailed art is not present in an anime, they also have the additional tools or audio, cinematography, color, and more.
In order to retain the same feelings, the tools available to them would need to be applied in different ways.
Taking advantage of the tools of the medium while retaining what works and enhancing it when applicable without sacrificing a narrative is what separates an acceptable adaptation from an incredible one.