Media and Music: Storytelling and Sound Design in “Saw”
Horror mastermind James Wan and former Nine Inch Nails member-turned-composer Charlie Clouser form a chilling alliance in conjuring the sinister “Saw” soundscape, delicately woven by the emotions in the film — devastatingly capturing Jigsaw’s twisted reign of terror.
In Media and Music, our writers take a deep dive into how movies use scores and songs to engage viewers, give new meaning and tone to some of our favorite scenes, and establish themes. It almost goes without saying, but there are spoilers abound.
By Grace Risinger
Images courtesy of Lionsgate
Content Warning: This article includes graphic descriptions and language on violence.
It’s quiet – nothing but the sound of water trickling, rushing quickly down the drain. Rusted metal chains scrape against the cracked, tiled floor, rattling menacingly. A tape recorder glistens above a seeping pool of blood.
James Wan’s 2004 directorial debut, “Saw,” opens with two strangers awakening in a decrepit, squalid bathroom. Ankles shackled to tarnished metal pipes, separated by a dead body, zero recollection of how they got there.
Hesitantly pressing “PLAY” on the blood-stained tape recorder, the creaking silence is abruptly severed — like a blade sliced through the thick, tense air. A deep, gruesome voice booms over the tape, echoing against the walls, “You’re gonna watch yourself die today.”
Dr. Lawrence Gordon and Adam Stanheight quickly come to the stomach-dropping, potentially life-ending realization: the Jigsaw killer wants to play a game.
At its core, the grimly captivating film is quite literally a puzzle, one that feels incomplete without its industrial-metal-influenced audio landscape, courtesy of Charlie Clouser. Working closely alongside Wan, the carefully cultivated score is the guiding force for the characters’ emotions, pinpointing important plot details, and dragging the audience alongside the victims into the trap.
In both the score and the scenes, “Saw” unfolds as a slow burn. The simplistic score embraces a lo-fi aesthetic, seamlessly weaving into the gritty atmosphere of the “Saw” universe. As the audience shadows Adam and Lawrence through the ominous bathroom, Clouser utilizes a low, hauntingly melancholic hum to underscore their tense exchanges. In the film’s initial 45 minutes, the score remains neutralized, with its swirling, droning buzz enveloping the ill-fated space with little deviation.
Enter The reverse bear trap, an iconic piece of “Saw” machinery that haunts the 10-movie franchise with its reappearance three times. Yet, its infamy wouldn’t be possible without the resilience of our final girl: Amanda Young.
As Young slowly awakens in an abandoned warehouse, her wrists loosely bound, the sound of electrical zapping fills the air. A dim, green light casts an eerie glow as she frantically attempts to free herself and discovers the large, menacing metal device attached to her head, inside her jaw. The score builds, suspenseful whooshes spiraling around her, capturing the severity of her predicament through the auditory chaos, louder than ever.
Silence falls as the tape begins — a moment of impactful pause allows the audience to absorb Jigsaw's message and the terror he instills in his victims. The tape's static marks an escalation in both score and scene, leading to a shock cut of Amanda relentlessly thrashing in the chair.The score explodes into blistering industrial metal, pounding guitar riffs and hysteric whooshes amplifying the intensity. The chaotic murk, resembling a distorted lion's roar, accompanies the trap countdown like a heartbeat.
In this drastic shift, Clouser immerses the audience in the chair, pushes the bear trap onto their head, and smashes "PLAY" on Jigsaw's tape. The amalgamation of industrial metal and the sound of physical struggle create an undeniable surge in heart rate and palpable tension.
Against the conventional horror movie rulebook, Wan and Clouser manage to transcribe the horror of the reverse bear trap into sound, capturing a visceral experience for the audience. However, as the film progresses and Adam and Lawrence find themselves entangled in Jigsaw’s sadistic game, their once-prominent hope begins to wane.
The score, once a curious, guiding force in the narrative, undergoes a metamorphosis, darkening progressively to echo the characters' descent into despair. In a dramatic departure from conventional scoring methods, Clouser physically banged on pots and pans, using metal grinders to create a chaotic murk that resonated with the characters' increasing desperation.
As Lawrence and Adam fail to escape Jigsaw’s trap in time, they find themselves in an intense state of hopelessness — so much so that Lawrence saws his own foot off to escape his shackles. To mark this sinister, intense shift from moments that almost resembled two guys casually hanging out in a bathroom, Clouser opts for the physical sounds of the character’s actions rather than an excessively elaborate orchestral score.
Heavy metal doors slam shut, a cell phone desperately rings, and gunshots ring through the air. The sound of Lawrence’s hysterical screams and cries are so raw — it’s nauseating.
Clouser establishes a low, repetitive tone anticipatory of the looming, dreadful end of the film. There’s clearly no fairytale ending here, as Lawrence’s newly decapitated foot lies on the bathroom floor chillingly, unmoving. The sound of gushing blood infused with Adam’s horrified screams engulfs the audience as the frenetic murk grows louder and louder.
Then, once again, silence.
The bloody saw rattles against the cracked floor, tossed. The single bullet is loaded into the gun. Lawerence pulls the trigger.
Clouser’s expert incorporation of natural sounds and strategic use of silence elevate the intricate narratives in “Saw” to a nuanced level of poetic storytelling. The audience not only hears, but feels the intimate pain shared between the two men — their mutual need for each other, and their vulnerability. Their profound bond is shaped by the struggle for survival and lies at the heart of the film, with emotions simmering to the surface and resonating in the haunting echoes of the gunshot that lingers.
GAME OVER.
“Saw” wouldn’t be complete without one of the most shocking plot twists of all time. Adam isn’t dead, and crucially, neither is the unidentified body in the bathroom. As Adam presses “PLAY” on another tape recorder, every puzzle piece finally falls into place.
Arising from the bloodied floor, John Kramer is unmasked as the Jigsaw killer, accompanied by the “Saw” theme, “Hello Zepp” — freezing time in a gut-wrenching, jaw-dropping revelation, sending shivers down the spine.
As the echoes of "Hello Zepp" resonate in the aftermath of “Saw”'s chilling revelation, Charlie Clouser's musical prowess solidifies its place as the John Carpenter-esque “Halloween” moment of the franchise. In this dark hero's interpretation of John Kramer, Clouser masterfully composed the franchise theme, infusing it with the twisted lens of mortality, suffering, and the noble motives of revenge.
Characterized by a cutting fusion of orchestral elements and technological effects, the song's introduction features a repetitive piano tune akin to "Halloween." Yet, it takes a darker turn as devastating, low violins swirl, and the murky hum grows even louder. The violins intensify, creating a cacophony of tension, suspense, and unease.
These musical elements ensure that "Hello Zepp" mirrors the emotional intensity of the film. Clouser, with his intricate composition, captures the essence of tragic nobility and misguided heroism, making the theme an integral part of the “Saw” experience.
Clouser's musical genius, much like Jigsaw's intricate traps, leaves an indelible mark on the chilling narrative of “Saw. The haunting melodies become an inseparable part of the twisted journey through mortality, revenge, and the enduring legacy of John Kramer.
As the credits roll to “Bite the Hand That Bleeds” by Fear Factory, John Kramer’s message is clear: most people are so ungrateful to be alive.
But not you.
Not anymore.