Beginning part: looking for the green ring

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All the dialogues of the main characters in the film were recorded live, because we wanted to retain the imperfect texture and background sound of the live recording.

the film works is so different than the Sound works, there is not that big among every version I designed and created for this film, such as reducing chords, deleting music tracks, and fading the high-frequency sound. And the final result is that each version becomes simpler and simpler.

The sound design process for this film was highly conceptual and emotionally driven. At the start, my main goal was to use sound not just as background, but as a psychological extension of the characters’ inner world—particularly that of the male protagonist. Because the film plays with the boundary between dream and reality, I knew early on that the soundtrack had to shift in tone and texture throughout the narrative. My first step was to analyze the script and visual cues to identify which scenes called for stronger musical presence and which demanded more restrained, ambient soundscapes.

The opening scene, where the protagonist searches for the green ring, became my central focus. I wanted to create a sound environment that felt both haunting and fragile—mirroring the character’s internal sense of desperation and hope. I chose to use string instruments layered with synth textures to produce a melodic but dissonant atmosphere. The strings carry emotional weight, while the processed synthesizers add an otherworldly quality. In this way, the soundtrack subtly signals that the events may not be entirely real, setting the stage for the film’s eventual twist.

As the film progressed into more dialogue-heavy scenes, I had to rethink my approach. Initially, I was inclined to continue layering textures and musical elements to maintain a strong sonic identity. However, through discussions with the director, Wentao Liu, it became clear that simplicity and space were more appropriate for many scenes. He wanted the visuals and character dynamics to speak for themselves without being overshadowed by sound. This was a turning point for me—I had to shift from “how can I make this sound better?” to “how can sound serve the story better?” It was a humbling but insightful experience that reshaped my design choices.

In the middle portion of the film, my focus shifted toward creating minimalist ambient layers that could blend seamlessly into the environment. These sounds were not meant to stand out, but to subtly enhance the pacing and emotional tone of each scene. I used low-frequency drones, urban background noise, and light reverb to add a sense of atmosphere without clutter. I also made sure that transitional sounds—the shifts between locations or emotional beats—were smoothed out through subtle sonic bridges, helping the film flow more cohesively.

Another interesting challenge was matching the rhythmic pacing of sound to the film’s editing style. In the early phases, I created a few demos that felt musically complete, but they clashed with the visual rhythm of the cuts. I had to go back and rethink timing—not just in terms of tempo, but in how long a sound should hold or fade out. This led to a more refined understanding of timing as a narrative tool. I learned to respect silence as much as sound.

By the end of the process, the final sound design consisted of a carefully balanced structure: a rich, emotionally layered introduction; a restrained and immersive middle section; and a final moment that subtly revisits earlier motifs in a more subdued tone. This arc mirrors the story’s dream-to-reality progression, making the sound design feel cohesive and meaningful. While I started the project thinking about individual scenes, I finished with a clearer vision of how sound can create narrative continuity and emotional depth across a full film.