The Tron universe has never been about sheer volume. It’s about weight; how a sound lands, reverberates, and breathes. In Tron: Ares, directed by Joachim Rønning, Tormod Ringnes and his longtime collaborators return to one of the most sonically ambitious franchises in sci-fi to push it somewhere new. The result is darker, more physical, and more human than ever before.
Every hum and pulse feels engineered yet organic, as if the digital world itself has grown a heartbeat.
Building a New Sonic Code
Ringnes’ creative partnership with Rønning goes back to their early days post film school. Along with sound designer Baard H. Ingebrigtsen, he’s been part of the director’s inner circle for years, shaping the sonic landscapes of Pirates of the Caribbean: Salazar’s Revenge, Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, and Young Woman and the Sea. So when Disney greenlit Tron: Ares, there was never much question who would help define its sound.
They were joined by Addison Teague of Skywalker Sound, and from day one, the goal was clear. “From the very beginning, our conversations centered on continuing the Tron tradition of creating sound and music that is truly groundbreaking,” Ringnes said, in an interview with People of Post. “At the same time, we wanted this new chapter to feel darker, grittier, and more physical — to push the system to its limits.”
The early collaboration with Nine Inch Nails, who composed the score, set the tone. Ringnes began mixing their first cues alongside his sound effects, sending iterations back and forth. That exchange, he said, became the creative roadmap for the rest of the film. The process was fluid, open, and driven by instinct, more like a band than a post-production crew.
The Code Evolves
Honoring Tron’s sonic heritage was non-negotiable. The original film, with its pioneering work by Wendy Carlos, practically invented what “digital” sounded like on screen. Tron: Legacy doubled down with Daft Punk’s grand, orchestral synthscape. For Ares, the team wanted something that still felt unmistakably Tron but less polished, more tactile.
“The previous Tron films are masterpieces of sound and music, so we wanted to respect that legacy while still pushing into new territory,” Ringnes said. “This film expands the universe — with new vehicles, new environments, and the Tron world breaking out of the Grid and into the real world.”
That meant building a new library from scratch. They recorded everything from e-bikes to race boats to massive truck tires, capturing the friction and rumble of the real world. Foley artists even performed footsteps on glass, which Ringnes and Ingebrigtsen layered with tones from vintage Moog synthesizers, a subtle bridge between the analog warmth of the 1982 film and the new digital frontier.
Classic Tron elements weren’t ignored. For scenes set in the “old Grid,” they reintroduced and reshaped familiar sounds, threading them through modern layers. “We fused organic and electronic textures so the world feels both human and digital,” Ringnes said. “Exactly what Ares himself represents.”
Where Sound Becomes Story
The Light Skimmer sequence captures everything Tron: Ares tries to achieve. It begins as a pulse. A rhythm of engines, drones, and ambiance tuned to the score, and it builds until it’s almost musical.
“It’s one of those moments where sound design, music, and storytelling completely merge,” Ringnes said. “The drones had to feel terrifying and alive, their mechanical tones pulsing in sync with the music’s rhythm.”
That merging was no accident. During the final mix, Ringnes handled effects while Ron Bartlett CAS focused on dialogue and music. Working side by side, they sculpted transitions and dynamics so that every frequency supported the emotion on screen. Weekly review sessions with Rønning and the composers kept the film’s tone unified. A living, evolving soundscape rather than layers stacked on top of one another.
The scene is a prime example of what makes the Tron world so unique: sound doesn’t follow the visuals; it leads them. The mix doesn’t just describe what’s happening, it defines it.
The Human Pulse in the Digital Grid
What makes Ringnes’ approach stand out is how personal it feels. His work thrives on contrast — synthetic noise shaped to feel emotional, or mechanical sounds that somehow breathe. Throughout Ares, that truth is in the tension between the mechanical and the human. Circuits hum like arteries. Engines feel alive. It’s a sonic collision of artificial and organic life. “We wanted every sound to carry weight,” Ringnes said. “Something you could almost feel in your chest.”
That ethos ties the film back to the very roots of cinema sound. There’s spectacle here, yes, but also restraint. For every massive set piece, there’s a quiet moment where silence becomes its own kind of score.
Tron: Ares could have gone bigger, louder, flashier. Instead, Ringnes and his team went deeper. The mix is dense but never cluttered, immersive but never overwhelming. It bridges decades of Tron history, from Wendy Carlos’ analog experiments to Daft Punk’s digital symphony. and carries it somewhere raw and new.
For a franchise obsessed with the boundary between man and machine, the sound team found its sweet spot right in the middle.
