As Frank Collins wrote in a brilliant 2013 essay in the web journal Cathode Ray of Accident, “the film opens with a formal shot of the exterior of Stephen’s country house. The camera begins to track in towards the house. What strikes you immediately is the use of sound – an aircraft overhead, screeching owls, dogs barking and the tapping of typewriter keys – to augment the thick, primordial atmosphere, where sound becomes another character in the film and signals, with the deafening sound of the car crash, the emotional wreckage from which the rest of the film spills out.
Losey’s use of sound booms and telescopic rifle mikes adds sonic highlights to a film in which he plays with sensual memory, including the ticking engine of the crashed car, footsteps, farmyard noises, water trickling, children playing, kettles, busy offices, frying omelettes et al in the structuring of Stephen’s memory. A fascinating aspect of Stephen’s recall is how Losey manipulates the flashback to obscure certain moments, his embarrassment at falling into the river or his reluctance to play the mock-rugby game at Codrington Hall, for example. What’s missing is just as important as what is evident.
Sound as a ’sonic flashback’ is vital when the film narratively comes full circle and Losey returns to his formal shot of the house, tracks back and repeats the sound of the car crash just before the end titles. In a sense we are entering the present moment of the crash, then travelling back with Stephen into the past to understand what happened to the victims, how it occurred, having them return to its squalid aftermath and reemerge into the light of day by the time the film ends.”