Wylie Stateman and Harry Cohen: shaping Tarantino's sound

Sound continues to build the scene when the camera does not show its source. Stateman and Cohen work on that relationship between what is visible and what is heard.

Wylie Stateman and Harry Cohen began their collaboration with Quentin Tarantino on Kill Bill. Stateman has taken on sound editing supervision and Cohen sound design roles. Their responsibilities complement each other: organising the construction of the soundtrack and developing material capable of expressing an action, a space, or a point of view. Their continued presence on the team does not allow every sound in a film, created through many crafts, to be attributed to them automatically.

In a 2016 interview with Matthew Toffolo, Stateman described his work as a creative coordination that accompanies sound from planning through to delivery. That perspective helps us understand that the soundtrack needs to be organised as a whole. A close voice, a song and a distant ambience can coexist, but the scene changes depending on which of them demands our attention at a given moment.

Supervising, designing and mixing are different responsibilities

Supervision needs to maintain an overview of the whole: which elements are needed, how they relate to one another and which decisions must be coordinated with other departments. Sound design may focus on creating a particular identity for an action or on transforming materials so that they work within the film. Final mixing organises levels, positions and relationships between elements. These tasks are interconnected, but their credits are not synonymous.

Nor are they equivalent tolocation sound recording. The voices recorded during filming belong to another stage and to other professionals, even if they later require editing and treatment. Confusing all crafts under the label of 'sound' makes the chain of decisions invisible that allows us to hear a conversation clearly while ambience, music and the actions around it remain active.

InKill Bill, that chain can produce very different results. A blow can feel dry and close; another may belong to an exaggerated stylisation of combat. Footsteps can alert us to a presence or be absorbed by the music. The choice does not always respond to the volume the object would have in reality. It also responds to the information and energy the scene needs to convey.

The viewer's experience depends on contrasts. If everything demands attention with the same intensity, it is difficult to recognise what changes. A relatively silent moment can prepare an intrusion; a continuous ambience can make its disappearance perceptible. Stateman and Cohen work within a cinema that uses these differences to move from conversation to threat without verbal explanation announcing every transition.

Inglourious Basterds: the sound of one film within another

Nation's Pride, the propaganda film screened within Inglourious Basterds, needs to distinguish itself from the world that contains it. Its sonic identity helps us recognise a representation fabricated to stir up a Nazi audience. The wartime actions it shows have spectators within the fiction, while we also observe the conditions of its screening. That difference in position changes what the same gunshots mean to those who hear them.

The difference between the projection and the auditorium also shapes attention. The viewer hears a war representation while knowing dangers that the attendees ignore. The sound of the film within the film can fill the space and help certain actions go unnoticed within the fiction. In this way, the soundtrack connects two narrative levels that the image alternates between, maintaining the sense that both are happening in the same building.

That work requires more than adding a recognisable distortion. The texture must be compatible with the place from which we are listening and with what is happening around it. A voice coming through loudspeakers does not have the same presence as a person standing nearby. The scene can use that difference to shift our attention between representation, audience and threat. Sonic materiality helps us understand what belongs to each level.

Wylie Stateman'ssound design work allows us to examine other concrete examples. In a professional profile, it matters to recognise that these effects arise from coordinated decisions and from a conversation with the edit. The soundtrack can provide a continuity that joins separate shots or introduce a rupture that transforms our perception of space without needing to change setting.

Hollywood and a city heard in layers

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood combines traffic, radio, conversations and television productions. The city does not end at the frame's edge: engines and broadcasts suggest an activity that continues beyond it. At the same time, a radio can accompany a character during a journey and give it emotional unity. Sound makes a route habitable that visually crosses different spaces.

Professional interviews about the film also distinguish Stateman's work from that of the mixers Mike Minkler and Christian Minkler. That precision helps us recognise how the final relationships between the materials are built. The listener receives an integrated experience, even though different contributions lie behind it. The analysis ofambiences, foley and soundscapes develops these functions without reducing them to a single name.

The collaboration between Stateman and Cohen allows a film to change its sonic density without losing clarity. A room can feel occupied, a street can continue beyond the camera and a television broadcast can belong to another era. Their work does not simply make violence louder: it organises what we hear, where it seems to come from and how much mental space it leaves for what we still cannot see.

More information: Tarantino's technical team.