Humans are very easily influenced by sound, even if most of us are reluctant to admit it. You hear three notes from a song you loved in school, and suddenly you are back in that hallway, or on that bus, feeling things you thought you forgot. The same brain that does that is the brain sitting in a dark cinema, watching a screen. And the people who make films are well aware of this.
Often, you don’t even notice it working. You walk out of a movie and talk about the plot, the twist, the acting. The soundtrack sits in the background like air. Yet, if you removed it, the scenes would feel strangely flat, almost empty. That quiet, hidden power is exactly why music is one of the most important tools in film storytelling.
Music as an emotional guide
You know how you can look at someone’s face and still not be sure what they really mean. Film can be like that. A shot can be read in several ways. Music pushes you gently toward one of them.
Soft piano can turn a simple scene of two people talking into something tender and hopeful. Sharp strings can turn that same scene into something tense, even when no one raises their voice. A low, pulsing sound under a quiet hallway suddenly makes you expect danger, even though all you see is a door.
Directors and composers frequently use this technique. They decide where they want you to lean emotionally, and the score does a lot of the quiet work. It does not force you, but it nudges. And because sound reaches us faster than thought, half the time you feel nervous or relaxed before your brain has worked out why.
Music Builds Memory Inside the Movie
One of the clever tricks film music uses is simple repetition. A certain melody or rhythm is often associated with a character, an idea, or a relationship. Each time you hear it, your brain connects the dots without you needing to think, “Oh, that is his theme.”
You can think of big examples like the Star Wars main theme or the two-note shark line in Jaws, but the same idea shows up in quieter films too. The shy character might get a small, hesitant tune on a single instrument. The love story may be wrapped in a single chord sequence that plays in various forms throughout the film.
What this does is build memory inside the movie itself. When that theme comes back later in a different scene, you feel everything linked to it at once. A victory theme played slowly on a sad scene can break your heart, because you remember how it once sounded full of hope. In that way, the music carries the story around, connecting moments that may be far apart.
Music Shapes the Pace of Films
Music also influences the pace of a film. Fast cuts, quick drums, and rising melodies can make a simple chase feel like your heart is going to jump out. Long-held notes with almost no rhythm can stretch a scene so much that every small movement feels significant.
Editors often use music intentionally. They let a punch land with a drum hit, or a kiss line up with the peak of a swell. You might not notice this on first watch, but you definitely feel it. It is the same feeling as when you walk in step with a song without thinking about it.
Sometimes, silence in the midst of music can be even more powerful. The score stops, everything goes quiet, and suddenly each breath and each footstep becomes loud. The film utilises the absence of music to draw you in.
Music Builds Worlds and Time Periods
Music also tells you where and when you are, often before the dialogue does. Old-style jazz, dusty guitars, traditional drums, electronic pads, all of these carry cultural weight. A film set in rural Kentucky will feel different from one set in a Tokyo nightclub, partly because of what you hear around the characters.
Some of this music lives inside the story, like the song playing on a character’s radio. Some of it lives outside, as pure score that only the audience hears. Both layers matter. A pop song from a specific year can help fix the film in a particular time. A traditional melody can quietly explain a character’s background better than a long speech.