DVD Review: Speaking in Code

This compelling doc looks at electronic music and its effects on the lives of those who create and consume it.

By Kathleen Keish
Published: May 21st, 2010 | 2:20pm

There may be a fine line between passion and obsession, but there is an even finer line between obsession and addiction, the blurring of which filmmaker Amy Grill explores in her documentary Speaking in Code. As much about electronic music as it is about the effects it has on the lives of those who create and consume it, Grill examines what it really means to get lost in the music—and whether you can ever be found again.

Much like the music it centers on, Grill’s film lacks structure, jumping from one subject to the next with random bouts of introspection thrown in between informative interviews and footage of performers in dim underground nightclubs. Though somewhat representative of the entire genre, Grill has chosen a select group of those within the electronic music industry to talk about their craft, including Berlin-based group Modeselektor, now-defunct electro duo the Wighnomy Brothers, Robert Henke of Monolake fame, the owners and artists of enigmatic techno label Kompakt, music journalist Philip Sherburne and even her own husband, David Day, a techno-obsessed jack of all trades.

They discuss the impact such music has had on their lives as much as they discuss the music, with each interviewee injecting their own bit of reality to the subject matter. The boys from Modeselektor and the Wighonmy Brothers ruminate on life and love in Germany after the fall of the wall, while Shelburne sheds tears over his deceased father and the cochlear implant he received before his death, which allowed him to experience sound like his son. Tidbits such as these reflect the role music has on and in everyday life, with its ability to impact various monumental occasions from womb to tomb.

But perhaps the most stringent examples of the effect this musical obsession can have on real life are those involving Grill and Day, whose relationship is well-captured in the film. Unfortunately, their marriage does not follow the same continuous uprise as the music they love and it becomes evident that their respective obsessions (which have seemingly become addictions, his with promoting the music and hers with documenting it), though enriching their individual lives, is impacting their relationship.

It’s also ruining their credit score, as Grill shamelessly reveals that she and Day are using borrowed money to finance their various passions. Though Grill makes no detailed commentary on the dissolution of their marriage, other than in voiceovers to explain that through production, she and Day had realized how much they had grown apart, it's obvious that she is asking a rhetorical question both of herself and the viewers: what is the price, both literally and figuratively, of passion? And is that price tag worth it?

The film itself is artfully constructed and skillfully shot considering the scope of locations Grill had to work with, including outdoor music festivals and indoor night clubs so dark that the music seems to emanate from an invisible source. Though the transitions from one subject to the next are a bit rocky, and as the various locations of shooting and dialects of the subjects often make it difficult to understand where they are at any given point, Grill effortlessly weaves in a theme of exploration that compliments both the music and her lifestyle. Random shots of airplane wings cut in between scenes, and many of the interviews take place in cars and trains, emphasizing the accelerating speed of the music and the life force behind it. Just as techno is constantly moving, so are the people involved, whether dancing in the club or flying from one locale to another.

Sometimes it takes losing yourself to find yourself, and even if you don’t particularly understand the code in question, Speaking in Code shows us that passion is a universal language.

Find out more and buy the DVD at MySpace.