Film Score Friday Top 5: “Star Trek” cues or themes

So part two of Film Score Friday Top 5’s homage to Star Trek is my Top 5 choices for individual cues or themes (with themes here being identifiable character/group of characters theme).  So with that said…onward, ever upward (forward, never backward).

1. “Klingon Battle” from Star Trek: The Motion Picture– Jerry Goldsmith:  How could I not put this one on top?  Not only is it one of my favorite cues, but Goldsmith’s music for the Klingon’s has come to define the warrior race.  Goldsmith himself reused the rocking open fifth horn call in his later scores, and the theme can even be heard in the television scores occasionally.  And even when it wasn’t directly quoted, the overall aural effect of the cue is invoked.  Good case in point is James Horner’s music for the Klingon’s in Star Trek III: The Search for Spock.  And speaking of Horner…

2. “Surprise Attack” from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan by James Horner:  My love for Horner’s Khan score was already stated last week, and after the Main Title, this cue stands out in my mind next.  Alternating between the ominous music for Khan and the Reliant and the more hopeful Kirk and the Enterprise sound truly ramps up the tension.  As Khan puts it, they’re “one big happy fleet!”  But my favorite moment might be one that is my first conscious memory of a music-sound-sync point when Spock is pointing out on a bridge screen the damaged portions of the ship after Khan’s attack and as he points to each blinking light, it is accompanied by a low trombone note.  It may seem corny on the surface, but even now, it really seems just perfect.  Listening to just the cue, I know exactly when those notes are coming.

3. “The Ritual Ancient Battle” from “Amok Time,” Star Trek by Gerald Fried:  Also know as the music when Kirk fights Spock, or just Kirk fighting anyone, or simply, “dun dun dunn dunn dunn dunn dun dun dum dun!”  This might be the most recognizable piece of music from the original Trek series, but it got its start in “Amok Time” as the music for the ritual fight between Kirk and Spock, as Spock is trying to work through his Pon Farr rage (you know…Vulcans only do it every 7 years, and if they don’t…bad things).  The cue, though, proved so good, that it was made into a stock cue for most subsequent fight scenes in the series.  Maybe this clip will help jog you’re memory if you still can’t hear it:

4. “The Cloud” from Star Trek: The Motion Picture by Jerry Goldsmith:  “Two cues from Motion Picture?” you’re asking yourself.  Yes.  I’m doing this for a few reasons, but mainly to drive home a point:  say what you will about the relative quality of this film – personally I think it’s underrated, especially the Director’s Cut – but Jerry’s score is really top notch.  His music here for the Enterprise’s first encounterwith the V’ger is a great ambient track with arppegiated harp notes and some of Goldsmith’s trademark electronic sounds.  In a recent episode of the sitcom The Big Bang Theory, the main characters (all nerds) are debating what is the worst Trek film, either Star Trek V or The Motion Picture.  One of them makes the argument that Motion Picture is worse because “it fails across the board: art direction, costuming, music, sound editing.”  Ya, I just about punched my computer screen when I heard that (yes, a physical response directed against a visual device, when the offending media was aural).  If there is one level on which The Motion Picture does NOT fail…it is music.  Bringing us to…

5. “Crash-Whale Fugue” from Star Trek IV: The Voyage Homeby Leonard Rosenman:  I was not actually really sure what to put here, but I really did not want to put another Goldsmith cue, but when he’s score 5 of the current 10 films, he’s hard to avoid.  I really do like Rosenman’s cue here for the penultimate scene of the film.  It shows a great care and detail for not just making a good cue, but also a good piece of music.  Runner up cues from this film go to his two chase cues for Chekov on the aircraft carrier and the escape from the hospital.

Well there it is, and while I’m not sold on the five spot, there are so many great musical moments from the films and shows (I almost put Ron Jones’ cue from the very end of “The Best of Both Worlds, Part I” in that spot), I will stand by these choices.

Next Week: Top 5 film scores (Will Giacchino make the list?)

Film Score Friday Top 5: ‘Star Trek’ Title Themes

In honor of the new Star Trek film coming out in two weeks, the next few Film Score Friday Top 5’s will be about all things musical having to do with Roddenberry’s vision of the future.  In the first of three, I postulate the question of best title themes, coming from ether film or TV.  But if anybody says the title song to Enterprise, your commenting privileges are revoked!  (Okay, not really, but damn if I don’t hate that song!)

#1) Main Title to The Motion Picture/Star Trek: The Next Generation – Jerry Goldsmith:  As iconic as the The Original Series theme is, I gotta give it up to Jerry here.  I don’t know where my childhood would have been without this theme.

#2) Theme to Star Trek – Alexander Courage:  You knew I couldn’t put this any further down the list, right?  From the 60s fabulous singers on “Ah” to the classic ascending minor seventh that is “Space…the final frontier,” and is subsequently part of almost every theme up until Deep Space Nine, this theme got so much right.

#3) Main Title from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan – James Horner:  Horner’s Khan score is yet another reason I fell in love with film music as a kid.  His title starts with the minor seventh motive (played over those wonderful string harmonics), but quickly goes into his unique score that sets the aural tone for Khan and Search for Spock.  And while the more I hear Horner’s music, the more I hear just how much he recycles himself (more than I think is really acceptable, even with time constraints), nothing can even diminish the Khan score in my mind.

#4) Overture from Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country– Cliff Eidelman:  I don’t really know why I really like this one so much, but perhaps it is just how dark it is, starting with low strings, then trombone, English horn, low voices…it is all so ominous.  When it really gets going, it almost sounds like ‘Mars’ from The Planets.  I just really enjoy it.  It also helps that, in my humble opinion, VI is one of the stronger Trek films.

#5) Title theme from Star Trek: Voyager – Jerry Goldsmith:  I was torn between putting either the DS9 or Voyager theme here, and while the DS9 theme really signaled a drastic shift in musical tone for the series, ultimately I went with Voyager because it retains much of that shift (more somber, less adventure), while also conveying the exploration aspect of the show and the longing of the stranded crew.

Next Week: Top 5 musical cues and charcter themes (You bet the Klingons make the cut! Qapla’!)

Film Score Friday Top 5: Superhero Scores

So I’m going to start a hopefully weekly segment here at The Temp Track.  Based  on the Film Score Monthly website’s weekly “Film Score Friday,” I will select some “theme” and pick my favorite five scores to fit it.  The idea here is to actually spur some dialogue with you, the readers, as you comment with your favorites.  I also hope that I will learn of some scores to listen to, as I am still learning and listening, trying to educate myself.

First, some rules: it does not have to just film scores, I plan on including as much tv and video game music as possible (this is unless, of course, I stipulate the medium, i.e. TV Themes).  Second:  I’m not saying that these are “the best,” but rather just my favorites.  Lastly, if a composer does multiple films in a series within the theme, I’ll choose only one of the scores, and a tv series counts as only one entry.

With today’s theme of superhero scores, I have defined the genre as one in which a character has extraordinary ability (either natural or aided by tech), and uses it for the betterment of society.  The characters need not be ones that first appeared in comics (i.e. The Incredibles), but also, a film that is an adaptation of a comic/graphic novel necessarily a superhero film, etc (i.e. 300).

So without further adieu, my Top 5 Superhero Scores:

1. Superman: The Movie – John Williams: What can be said that hasn’t already?  The Superman March is so iconic that Bryan Singer instructed John Ottman to use it in Superman Returns.  If anything, the score itself has actually outdone the films, as the franchise has had exactly 2 good films (with 3/4 of it coming from the Richard Donner material of Superman II and the other quarter coming from the plane rescue in Returns).  For me, the best cue is actually is “The Planet Krypton,” with its slow addition of instruments, building from a solo trumpet to full ensemble.  It reminds me of a Strauss-ian sunrise.  Part of reason I actually went to see Returns was because of this cue’s use in one of the trailers.

2. The Incredibles – Michael Giacchino: What do you get when you cross the music of James Bond with superheroes?  You get the score for The Incredibles.  Using spy-tinged guitars with Giacchino’s signature jazz/rock infused orchestral style, the score captures the spirit of the film perfectly.  I particularly like the cue when Mr. Incredible discovers what “Kronos” is and the scene cuts back and forth between him and his wife discovering that he has been sneaking out and using his powers.  It was at that moment that I became a Giacchino fan.

3. Batman Returns – Danny Elfman: I could have easily selected the first film’s score, but I really prefer the dark, cold tone of Returns, especially the Penguin’s theme – creepy and sad all at once.  Also the addition of Elfman’s signature untexted children’s chorus really makes this score stand-out in my mind.

4. The Dark Knight – Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard: I could of filled out this list with all Batman scores.  Between Elfman, Goldenthal, Zimmer/Howard, and the scores for Batman: The Animated Series, Batman is the comic character who has translated best into film/tv and music (with the exception of the Joel Schumacher films, great scores, terrible films).  With Dark Knight the stand out elements are the new themes for Joker and Harvey Dent/Two-Face, with the cue “Watch the World Burn” on the album being a favorite (and at one point reminding me of the ‘Allegretto’ of Beethoven’s Seventh).

5. Spider-Man – Danny Elfman:  I really struggled with this slot, becuase I couldn’t really think of another stand-out score in my mind.  I like Elfman’s work here, but since I’m not a huge fan of the film, and since I have yet to really listen to the score on its own, it is hard to separate the two.  But after watching the film again the other night, I feel confident in placing the score in the fifth spot.

So there you have it, my top 5.  Please comment, tell me yours, give me suggestions of scores to list to.  I want to encourage discussion in the comments section.

Next week: TBD

Mr. Williams, meet Mr. Potter

So it’s official, Border’s wants to bankrupt me.  I wandered into another Border’s store, and they had all the Harry Potter scores marked with the magical red sticker.  At 40% off, I couldn’t help but pick up the five CDs, especially with movie 6 coming out this summer.

So far I’ve only gotten through the John Williams scores for films 1-3, so that is what I shall discuss right now.  Originally, I had a much different post planned for this weekend, but I need to do some more viewing/research before I write it.  C’est la vie.

John Williams is a composer who, as an academic, I have some problems with.  Mainly because, even though I wholly believe in the worth of popular culture, John Williams is so damn popular.  If anything, Williams is part of the reason I love music and film music so much.  I loved the Star Wars scores, I even used to imagine conducting the ‘Imperial March’ when I was in Sixth Grade.  I could hear the music so clearly in my head that I wouldn’t even need to listen to the CD while doing it!

But as a scholar, I feel the need to find more obscure things, more profound revelations, etc.  The curse of the Ivory Tower.

But screw it, I love Star Wars and Superman and Jurassic Park and Raiders of the Lost Ark and I won’t frakkin’ apologize for it!

Anyway, on to Harry Potter.  As many know, Williams only fully scored films 1 and 3, and even though he substantially scored 2, parts of it were left to William Ross to adapt and orchestra for the film due to time concerns, and it really does show in many way, but I’ll get to that in a bit.

First I want to contrast briefly Sorcerer’s Stone and Prisoner of Azkaban, because they really aurally depict that vast differences in the directorial styles of the film (Chris Columbus vs. Alfonso Cuaron).  Film 1 is pure children’s John Williams, same type of music you might have heard from his Home Alone score (also directed by Columbus).  It has some “creepy/scary” elements to it, but on the whole it is a children’s adventure score.  The creepiest part, I feel, is ‘Hedwig’s Theme,’ but that is due to the celesta, which just sounds creepy to me.  (Which is caused by the end of Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony, first movement…he uses the celesta in such a way…creepiest moment ever!)  But that is what the film is, a children’s adventure movie, and that is how Columbus directs it and its follow up.

But When Cuaron comes on board for Prisoner, he changes the visual style to one that is more realistic.  The kids dress how kids might when they are forced into uniforms, the film itself has more grit to it, and on the whole, the film looks darker and busier.  Williams, showing just how versatile he can be when he wants to, changes up his own style to match.  Most noticeably he introduces medieval/renaissance musical timbres into the ensemble.  In some ways, it feels like they should of been there the entire time, it fits the magical tone of the seriesso well.  The wood flutes, period reeds and brass instruments, fit in seamlessly (for a good example, go to track 11 on your CDs, “Hagrid the Proffesor”).  And of course, this cue is based on the song that introduced us to this new musical sound, Williams’ setting of the classic Shakespeare quote “Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble,” plus other lyrics that all come from MacBeth.  This one song, performed in the movie by Hogwarts students, signals a shift in musical timbre, plus solidifying the darker turn of this and the subsequent films (the ominous lyrics “Something wicked this way comes,” which comes from Act IV of MacBeth).

In many ways, this score as a whole might be one of Williams best of recent years.

This is in complete contrast to Chamber of Secrets, which reflects, in a bad way, just how rushed Mr. Williams was when writing it.  I won’t harp too much on the Chamber score except to point out what might just be one of the saddest moments of musical borrowing from yourself that I’ve come across.

One of the “new” themes for the film was for Gilderoy Lockhart, the unfortunate new teacher for the students.  Lockhart is a fraud, a phony, and a vain man.  He is a caricature for so many celebrities that the fact that Williams, or Ross, I’m not sure who, blatantly stole from an earlier score is either cheap or a brilliant piece of meta-criticism.  Listening to the score, I immediately recognized the tune as something from an earlier score…I could see Nazis running around, so I was pretty sure it was from an Indiana Jones films…just listen…in this scene, it starts when Snape ascends the stairs…

I was fairly sure that it was from a Jones movie, but it took Wikipedia to point me in the direction of the correct scene…the classic “No Ticket!”

Different keys, but the resemblance is uncanny.

It’s unfortunate that such a great performance by Kenneth Branagh is undercut by this recycling of music.  But as I asked earlie, is it cheap re-using or meta-criticism?  I’ll let you decide.

In the end, though, it’s strange that of the three scores, Chamber “sounds” the most like a John Williams score.  Perhaps because it borrows so freely from other material he had done in the 15 or so years prior.  Look at the Wikipedia page for the score for even more examples. 

I don’t have much else to say.  I’ll post a bit more on the next two scores when I’ve had a chance to listen to them.

Seizure Inducing or Avant-Garde? The case of ‘Speed Racer’

I recently picked up Michael Giacchino’s score to the Wachowski’s Brothers feature film Speed Racer (yes, based on the 60s Japanese Anime).  This film had the misfortune of opening the week after Iron Man and, along with having to compete with the Robert Downey, Jr. superhero pic, was also, with few exceptions, panned in the critical press.  Listening to the score made me want to see the film and that is exactly what I did last night.

 

As I see it, there is really only one thing wrong with the film, and it’s not actually the film’s fault…well maybe it is, but…well, let me explain.  The problem is that the film is not what the studios (probably) wanted, and it is not what they marketed it as.  Yes, the bright colors, cartoon stylized CGI, and fast cars all make it seem like it should be a children/family movie, but it isn’t.  One of the few positive reviews came from Glenn Kenny from Premiere Magazine, who calls it either, “the most headache inducing kid’s movie of them all [or]…the most expensive avant-garde film ever made.”  The main source of this avant-garde track is how the story is told in multiple layers of flashbacks that, if unprepared, can make the plot nigh un-followable.  The opening race/flashbacks tell the story of how obsessed with racing a young Speed is, and his relationship with his older brother Rex, while also revealing, in the so-called present, a young adult Speed literally racing the ghost of Rex and almost breaking his record at the local track.  But on a third level, we also have Rex’s race, and using slick transitions, we move back and forth in between the two races…and also back to Speed’s childhood.

 

And on top of this time-bending storytelling (which smoothes out for the most part after the opening) is some of the slickest CGI I’ve ever seen.  Forget Gollum and the Ring or the “hyper-reality” of 300, what the artists for Speed Racer achieved can only be described as pop art for the big screen.  The colors burst off the screen as the cars hurtle around tracks that not only laugh at and spit on, but also break in submission the laws of physics.  And the racing set pieces?  Exhilarating.  One reviewer said how there was never any true sense of danger in the races, but for me, that didn’t make them any less exciting.

 

The CGI and colors of the film are what made it transcend from simple remake of an old anime cartoon into a film that…well…I’m not truly sure what it is yet.  But it’s not a kids film, even if that is where I found it in Best Buy.  It’s a film that revels in the camp of the old anime, but also has an emotional heart to it, as it is the tale of the Racer family (brilliantly played by John Goodman and Susan Sarandon, and annoying, yet endearing, younger brother Spritle played by Paulie Litt, while Speed is played by an understated Emile Hirsch).  The two fight sequences (the first, of course, with ninjas, and the second with a gaggle of Mafioso rejects) also heighten the anime camp, taking cues from Tarentino and Kill Bill it seems like – but without the gushing blood.

 

It is a pastiche of anime on the one side, but on the other a brilliantly edited and rendered work.  And on the other hand, it is an emotional family tale of the little guy against the big-bad corporation.  Many reviews also latched onto the contradiction of a summer kids movie that was obviously meant to have multiple merchandising tie-ins being one with an anti-corporate message.  But a simple Wikipedia browsing will point to the fact that the corporate vs. independent as a plot point in the original anime series.  Here, though, it takes on the added layer of race fixing conspiracies and corporate takeovers.  In our cynical world where point shaving schemes, charges of the NBA being rigged, and the New York Yankees are everyday, the idea of the corporations who sponsor the leagues fixing the outcomes don’t seem so farfetched.

 

But to expect kids to understand all of this?  I doubt my young cousins could understand all of this.  Hell, I doubt my older cousins could.  I’m not even sure I understood all of it!

 

A few quick words about the score to wrap things up.  I’ve already done a brief review over at my other blog (Edit 2013: read the review here), but now that I’ve seen the film, I have a few more observations.  As I mention in my review, Giacchino interweaves the classic “Go Speed Racer Go” theme song into the score.  What I can now say is that the moments he chooses to are masterfully chosen.  At the moments of highest tension in the race scenes, just a snippet of the old theme will come in as Speed pulls off some stunt move to slide past his opponents or elude a devilish cheater.  The one non-race moment when theme comes in is during the obligatory montage right before the big race.  In this case, the racer family has to build a new car for the Grand Prix in less than two days, and the building montage has snippets of “Go Speed Racer Go” in it.  What Giacchino also does here is that he has taken the whole hook (you know, “Go Speed Racer, Go Speed Racer, Go Speed Racer Go-oo!”) and brakes it up into smaller segments and they float in and out of the musical score.  And the only time we really hear that whole hook is at the very end of the film.

 

So seizure inducing kids film or brilliantly subversive avant-garde cinema?  I’m not sure I’m prepared to announce it as more ripe for academic consideration than the Wachowski’s previous efforts (The Matrix and V for Vendetta), but I also know for certain that this is no kids movie.  My recommendation, though, is that you should go out and rent or buy it while you still can.  Even with DVD sales the film STILL has yet to earn back its budget, so who knows when the studio will just give up on it.  Strong 4.5/5.

Diegetic vs. Non-Diegetic and Comedy vs. Drama

I know I’ve mentioned in an older post (funny, I’ve only been at this around 3 months but I’m already forgetting exactly what I wrote at the beginning), but it bears repeating.  We can divide music in visual media into the diegetic and non-diegetc sphere: diegetic being music that has an identifiable source in film world (a record playing, a radio, band, etc.) and non-diegetic is the musical score that the characters in the movie cannot hear.  But what’s interesting is that, as rigid as those definitions are, there can be rather fluid movement between the spaces.

As I discussed in my recent Watchmen review, in the opening scene the song ‘Unforgettable’ begins in the diegetic space, but, as the sound mix indicates, moves into the non-diegetic.  This is clearly used for dramatic effect and is one example of this movement between the two aural spaces.  As a guideline (but not a hard and fast rule), it seems that movement from diegetic to non-diegetic is used for dramatic effect and non-diegetic to diegetic is used for comedic effect.  Some examples should illustrate this nicely.

First is from what is possibly my favorite moment in an episode of Family Guy.  In the recent Star Wars parody episode (entitled ‘Blue Harvest’), we have the classic scene on Tatooine where Luke (played by Chris) is standing dramatically as the binary suns of the planet set and we hear the Force theme being played for (what I think) is the first time in the series.  The mournful french horn solo as Luke expresses his desire to leave his desert planet home.  What happens next in ‘Blue Harvest’ (as the music swells), is that Chris/Luke turns to the camera and says “John Williams and the London Symphony Orchestra, everybody!” and the camera sweeps left and reveals John Williams and the orchestra there, in the middle of the desert, playing.  Chris then asks them to play the theme to the People’s Court, which they kindly oblige.

The comedy of the moment is obviously derived from the sheer absurdity of the orchestra playing in the desert.  But it is also a commentary on orchestral scores in general.  One of the functions of a musical score, as pointed out by Royals S. Brown in Overtones and Undertones (probably also said elsewhere, but that’s the one I’ve read) is that the music “mythologizes” the images.  This is exactly the function of the music in this scene.  We have Luke, the loner, fighting against the simple life of his parents, but also fighting against his, then, unknown history as the child of Anakin Skywalker, and it is accompanied by the music that becomes “The Force Theme,” the very birthright he has but doesn’t know about.  And all this complex symbolism is undone by a simple comedic turn of a musical shift from the non-deigetic to the diegetic.

Second is a scene from the pilot episode of a show we (the royal we) all love here at ‘The Temp Track’…Chuck.  At the end of the pilot episode, Chuck turns in his applicator for the Assistant Manager position to Big Mike, and as he walking to the office, we have a dramatic slow walk set to a Morricone Once Upon a Time in the West sounding cue (it could in fact be Morricone, but I didn’t recognize it off-hand, maybe one of you loyal readers recognized it.  As he is walking, he passes his friend Morgan who is standing next to a home stereo display.  Chuck looks at him and he turns down the stereo and the music fades, implying that Morgan had been playing the music all along as added dramatic effect within the store.  Much the same effect as before, the music was mythologizing the image, making Chuck like the hero of the Old West about to stare down the gunslinger in single combat (in this case, rival for the Asst. Manager job Harry Tang).  But it was also meant to be comedic to begin with because Chuck is not Clint Eastwood and the Buy More is not the Old West.  By having the music slide between the non-diegetic and diegetic adds one more layer to the comedic effect.

The last nD-D shift I want to discuss is one that starts out as absurd and moves to a whole new level of absurdity, and who else is the sublime master of the absurd by the man himself…Mel Brooks.  In the seminal comedy film, Blazing Saddles, we are greeted with our first image of Bart as the sheriff and he is dressed in runway fashion clothes complete with Gucci saddle bags and accompanied by the Count Basie Orchestra’s “April in Paris.”  The sheer absurdity of the entire scene (frontier lawman in fancy clothes) is heightened by the anachronistic song.  This effect is taken to a higher level as the camera pans left, as Bart rides by on his horse, and reveals…Count Basie and his Orchestra.  It is annoying that the music and musicians are not perfectly synced, but the implication that they are supposed to be playing live is clear.

The D-nD move for dramatic effect is, in my mind at least, the more common of the two shifts, and as such I am having a hard time recollecting good examples of it.  It is so common that the instances don’t stand out in my mind.  Besides the Watchmen example, the next best one I can think of is Pippin’s song in The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King.  He starts out just singing to Denethor solo, but the song then begin to be accompanied by orchestra as the scene starts to cut back and forth between Pippin/Denethor and Faramir leading a fruitless change against the orcs at Osgiliath.  While it’s not a true complete shift from one space to another-since the scene always returns to Pippin singing-the song is used as a dramatic lament to underscore to Faramir’s assault.

I’m sure there are numerous other examples of both aural shifts, and even some that go against the general trend that I laid out (nD-D as comedy, D-nD as drama).  But the usage as I laid out here do tend to be the general rule of thumb in visual media.

Three Reviews for your Weekend

Borders is having this 30% off DVD/CD clearance sale, and me being the savvy shopper I am couldn’t resist when I was there last Saturday.  After quickly scooping up the 3-Disc Criterion Collection set of Terry Gilliam’s Brazil for under $40 I went over to the “Soundtracks” section and looked for the magical red stickers that indicated instant savings.

I ended up buying three scores for around $10 a pop, two films and one video game: Michael Giacchino’s Speed Racer, James Newton Howard’s Oscar-nominated Michael Clayton, and the score for the XBox360 game Mass Effect.  Disclaimer right now, of the three scores, I’ve actually only ever seen Michael Clayton, and I don’t even own a XBox360 (or a PS3 for that matter…or a Blu-Ray player, being a poor grad student sucks some days).   So here are some impressions after listening to these scores off and on this past week.

Speed Racer

So I’ll just say this, I think Michael Giacchino is one of the best young composers working in Hollywood today.  Between his work on The Incredibles, Ratatouille, and Lost, the man has shown a wide range of skills and ability.  And if there is a knock against his Speed Racer score its that it sounds like all three of those scores thrown into a blender set to puree.  I hear bits and pieces of his previous work, but really, I don’t care!  As long as I’m hearing Michael Giacchino and not Danny Elfman or John Williams or Jerry Goldsmith, I’m pretty content with a composer stealing from himself.  Hell, Beethoven did it, Mozart did it, Mahler did without even hiding it! And if it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for Hollywood.

A lot of Giacchino’s work is hallmarked by his use of percussion, especially drumkit and mallets, giving his work a jazz/rock infused style, which is showcased in many cues on Speed Racer.  I can only assume that these cuts (given the titles and what I figure is the film’s plot) are mostly used for the racing sequences.  But he also shows his more tender side (which can be heard in many of Lost‘s death/reflection scenes) with cues like “Racing’s in Our Blood,” which almost rips off the “Life and Death” theme and music from Lost.

The last thing about the score is that, yes, he does incorporate the classic “Go Speed Racer Go!” theme song from the old cartoon.  Somewhat akin to Michael Kamen’s usage of Beethoven Nine, Finlandia, and ‘When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again’ for the Die Hard films, or even the usage of ‘Brazil’ in Brazil (see how I tied that in!), he weaves it into a few of the cues.   But Giacchino makes much more sparring use of the theme as opposed to Kamen’s more complete incorporation.  All in all, if I had to give a rating, I would give it about a 8/10.  Not ground breaking, but very enjoyable and listenable.

Michael Clayton

James Newton Howard’s Michael Clayton score is a harder nut for me to crack.  I’m not really as that familiar with his work as I should be, outside of his collaboration with Hans Zimmer on the new Batman scores.  Though after listening to Clayton (which comes in between the two Christopher Nolan helmed Batman films), I am starting to hear where the two composers start and stop on Batman Begins and The Dark Knight

As with many composers these days, Howard makes great use out of studio/computer effects, blending them with more traditional orchestral elements.  Unlike Giacchino’s almost completely in-studio approach, but with a fresh take on the orchestra, Howard blends a sparse string section (with a few winds, I believe…I’m working from memory mostly) with electronic effects that creates a surreal audio accompaniment to a film whose promotional poster was an out-of-focus head shot of star George Clooney with the text “The Truth Can Be Adjusted” covering most of his face.

When I first saw this film, I must admit I wasn’t very struck by the score, in fact I remember thinking “Where is the music?”  Which is why I was surprised when it was nominated for an Oscar (though, I must admit my ears, in the past year, have become much more acute than they were a year ago).  But, after listening to the score, I finally get it.  Watching the movie, I had an almost constant sense of unease, almost, to overuse a word, surreal feeling.  I couldn’t quite pin down what was causing it, but I now realize it was the score.  Bravo, Mr. Howard.

Listening, though, it reminded me at times of a score which, to my knowledge, has yet to have a proper CD release: Marco Beltrami and Marilyn Manson’s Resident Evil score.  Say what you will about the film or the games, Beltrami and Manson crafted a hell of an eerie score for the film that far surpassed the film in quality.  Final score: 9/10, great atmospheric score that sets the tone for this surreal film.

Mass Effect

Outside of the Final Fantasy games, I haven’t payed much attention video game music, largely due to the fact that I’ve haven’t been a huge gamer, console or PC, since high school.  Mass Effect is a game I would like to play, though, given what I’ve read about its plot (I love sci-fi).  The score is credited to four people: Jack Wall (Lead Composer), Sam Hulick (co-composer), and additional music by Richard Jacques and David Kates.  Jack Wall I’ve actually heard of due to a NPR interview/story on video game music concerts.  What I can hear of his and his team’s efforts on Mass Effect, he should have a bright future (lest we forget that many VG composers have crossed over into film and tv, and many continue to work in the industry, Michael Giacchino being a prime example).

By Wall’s own admission, he was trying to tap into classic sci-fi scores like Blade Runner (Vangelis) and Dune (Toto???).  Without actually having played the game, I feel very ill-equipped to discuss it at length, but I found the music very effective in portraying mood and setting, very key for video game scores.  While I can point to similarities in some cues (‘Battle at Eden Prime’ to the Blade Runner end credits and “The Normandy’ to the aforementioned Resident Evil film score) I found the overall work to be quite good.  I can only hope to one day play the game.  Final score: 6.5/10.

Well, there you have it, my listening for the week.  And yes, I would consider all three scores superior to Tyler Bates’ Watchmen.

Thoughts on ‘Watchmen’

So I was going to post this Saturday afternoon after I got back from seeing Watchmen that morning, but a computer virus on my desktop prevented that post.  Luckily, my laptop remains unaffected, so now, after much craziness and frustration with said desktop, I’ve decided to beat a strategic retreat until I have more time and mental fortitude to take on the task of reinstalling many programs, possibly even Windows itself.  I won the battle in defeating the virus itself, but the after effects linger.  Think Iraq: I’ve toppled Hussein, but now I’m dealing with the insurgency.

Okay, enough political commentary.

So Watchmen, highly anticipated movie to geek-kind the world over.  Released to mixed reviews, and my own feelings on the film itself are mixed, but this is a music blog, so I’ll leave the movie reviewing to others.  I’ll divide my commentary up into two segments.  First the score itself, followed my the many song sequences.

Warning, some spoilers ahead.

The Score:

In a word: meh.  In another word: derivative.  Looking at Tyler Bates’ filmography, I have actually only seen one other film scored by him: 300.  And I haven’t seen or heard that score recently enough to make any comments on his style, but given this outing in Watchmen, I’m not encouraged.  I picked up the score album the night before I saw the film and got through it once before seeing the film, and in just that one pass I heard at least three other composer’s work easily: Elfman – Batman, Don Davis – The Matrix, and Bear McCreary’s Battlestar Galactica (and maybe even some of Richard Gibbs’ work for the original mini-series).  Now, a lot of these things were quite obvious, like the brass chords from The Matrix (you know, the ones Davis originally got from John Adams?), and who cannot help but hear Bates’ use of Taiko drums as reminiscent of McCreary’s Battlestar, the sound of those drums is so wrapped into the aural aesthetic of the show that a composer would have to do something very different to avoid the comparison.  As for Batman, it wasn’t anything as blatant, but on the opening cue on the album, “Rescue Mission,” in the first thirty seconds, there is a low brass bit that comes in after the chorus that is almost, note for note, Elfman’s original Batman theme.  Here though, it is secondary melody, so it might be easy to miss.

Another score that came to mind in some of the more noir-ish cues was Vangelis’ Blade Runner.  The same sort of synth sound is used, but in many ways I think that it was deliberate given the 1985 setting of the film (example: track 9 on the score album).  The score here is echoing an ’80s film that was set in the future, while the film its for is set in the past, though contemporary for the period in which the first film was made.  Does that sentence make any sense?  Easy version: Blade Runner released in 1982 and set in 2019, Watchmen released in 2009 and set in 1985.  So in a way, the usage of music reminiscent to Blade Runner is clever in and of itself, but when put in relation of the derivativness of much of the rest of the score, it seems to mean less.

In terms of music-visual relation, the true test of any score, I was underwhelmed.  No sequences really jumped out at me as good examples of music to image relations, and when the score was used in a scene with little dialogue, it felt clunky.  I would need to see the film again to give actual examples, but color me unimpressed.

The Songs:

But where I felt the movie really fell down with music was its use of songs.  If it was just the score, then I would say that it neither added, nor really subtracted from the film, but the songs!  Oh my.  There were a few good sequences, but for the most part the addition of song backed sequences really had the, hopefully, unintended effect of leaping of the screen and screaming, “LISTEN TO ME, IT’S TIME FOR A SONG MONTAGE.”  This also extends into the use of some classical works (which I’m including here because of their inclusion on the Soundtrack album).  Furthermore, there were just to many of them…way to many.

First, the good.  I though Nat King Cole’s ‘Unforgettable’ was used quite well to underscore the opening fight and murder of the Comedian.  I’m a big fan of using music that deliberately goes against the grain of the image (so here, a rather sweet, lovely song, to underscore a brutal fight), what Michel Chion calls the anempathetic effect.  Defined by him in his book Audio-Vision as when, “music…exhibit[s] conspicuous indifference to the situation by progressing in a steady, undaunted, and ineluctable manner: the scene takes place against this very backdrop of “indifference.””  In the case of the scene at hand, the song first appears in the diegetic space, being played during a television commercial.  As the fight starts and continues, the song moves into the non-diegetic space (though director Zack Snyder is careful to show us that even though the tv screen is broken during the fight, that the set continues to work).

The one other sequence that doesn’t offend me too much is the use of Hendrix’s ‘All Along the Watchtower’.  This song, like another Bob Dylan penned tune on the soundtrack album (‘Desolation Row’, though here covered in an 80s punk style by My Chemical Romance…for some reason), were chosen due to the inclusion of quotes that were used at the end of every issue of the original series.  ‘Watchtower’ is the only one that is actually used as it was in the original, as the Nite Owl and Rorschach are approaching the Antarctica compound of Adrian Veidt, and the line “two riders were approaching,” is synced up with a helicopter shot of them doing exactly that.  Maybe a little obvious, but hey, it works well.

Okay, two sequences that I thought did not work at all.  First, the Comedians funeral which is overlayed by Simon and Garfunkle’s ‘The Sound of Silence.’  On the surface, you think, “Okay, funeral, sound of silence, a person’s death is the silencing of their voice, yadda yadda yadda.”  But then, you think about the entire milieu of the world that is created by the film, what the character of the Comedian represents (which is everything that the ’60s hippie culture/Simon and Garfunkle were protesting against), and it becomes…well…really weird and then just poor song choice.

Secondly is a sequence that almost made me laugh out loud, and at least elicited chuckles from the audience I saw it with.  If you’ve seen it, you probably know where I’m going…yes it’s the scene of Doc Manhattan in Viet Nam, towering over the land, surrounded by helicopters as Wagner’s ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ plays.  Okay, we all get the obvious ‘Apoclypse Now’  imagery, but really?  By now it’s just cliche.  And if that was funny, I was just left scratching my head about the inclusion of the Philip Glass cues from Koyaanisqatsi, the same cues that were used in the second trailer for the film.  They work okay in the context of the film, for the most part, but just like the inclusion of Wagner, and later on a bit of Mozart’s Requiem, it serves to pull me out of any sort of cohesive aural space.

And if anything, that is the worst part about the entire aural track for Watchmen.  It is a jumble of styles that really doesn’t work well together.  With the classical and Glass tracks, it’s almost like those were on the temp track for the film and Snyder fell in love with them (a la 2001).  And even the songs did much the same thing.  Yes, some worked well in context (even ones as disparate as ‘Unforgettable’ and ‘Watchtower’), others just clashed with the images.  The inclusion of Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’ also strained the love-making scene for me, if only because the various covers of that song have been used entirely to often in film and television.  But that’s another blog post entirely.

So those are my thoughts on the film’s score and soundtrack.  Agree, disagree?

Narrative and Interactive Music in Media: an Overview

So as I indicate elsewhere in this blog, I intend to address not only film scores, but also those of television and video games.  The thing about these three categories is that, while they all share similar underpinnings, they are quite different types of media.

Film is the granddaddy of them all (well, if you want to get technical, the true father was Greek Drama, but lets only consider the last 100 or so years, shall we?), so most of the music pf television and video games are based on the codes and models of it.   Specifically,  much of it is based on the “classic Hollywood sound” of the 1940s and 50s (Hermann, Korngold, etc.), which itself was influenced heavily by Romantic era classical music.  This how we can trace from Wagner to Korngold to John Williams.  But I’m not really saying much new here.

Television is a different beast.  With smaller budgets and less time, many times the scores aren’t for full orchestra, in fact it might only be a few instruments, or maybe only the composer at a synthesizer and computer.  Then there is music that is canned and recycled (come on, lets all now sing the Captain Kirk fighting whomever with a ripped shirt music…da da daa daa daa daa daa da dum da), so it is the exceptional show that has almost all newly composed music for every episode.  Some good recent examples are the scores for Battlestar Galactica (by Bear McCreary) and Lost (by Michael Giacchino).

Then there are video games.  In the almost 30 years now of the home console and computer video game market, we’ve gone from beeps and bloops to fully orchestrated and recorded music, but the truly remarkable thing is that this music has to be adaptable.  Able to change with the situation.  I would like to meditate on this for just a moment.

Think back to Super Mario Bros., until recently the top selling game of all time (thanks in no small part to being included with the Nintendo Entertainment System console).  Within just the first level of the game, one could hear some 6 different musical cues: the basic world music (the ubiquitous Mario Bros. theme music), the underworld thme after one has gone down a pipe, the “Star Theme” when one obtained the invincibilitystar, if one was running out of time there would be a short transition to a sped up version of the basic theme, the short musical tag if you died, and then the completing the level tag.  And while the quick musical transition between the sections (like the going down the pipe sound) might have been crude, the fact that the composers and programmers actually entered into the game code these various themes and transitions paved the way for more complex systems.

One of the early examples of a more complex system that figured heavily into my childhood is the iMuse engine used in many of LucasArts games in the 90s.  For me, it was its use in their classic adventure games that, while at the time I was not as musically astute, are still with me.  Music from such games as Sam & Max Hit the Road, Full Throttle, The Dig, Curse of Monkey Island, and  Grim Fandango still linger in my brain just waiting for me to start humming them at random, and in many occasions inappropriate, times.  What the iMuse did was to help to smooth out the transitions and make the switches between cues more seamless, the basic ideas that is still in use today.

If you want more info, surf over to iMuse Island, a rather detailed website about the system.  A similar system was also used in the computer game series Wing Commander, which I also played fairly obssively while growing up.

But if there was one video game score that floored me like no other it was Final Fantasy III (though actually the sixth game of the series, but was released as III in the states because numbers II, III, and V didn’t see release here until much later).  The album release of the score is three CDs long, and despite it being MIDI generated, it still holds up against many scores of today’s games.  Each of the 14 playable characters has a distinct theme, and the music itself is epic on a grand scale, with MIDI doing its best to represent an orchestral sound complete with choir and organ.  And if that wasn’t enough, composer Nobuo Uematsu even had to write an mini opera for a central plot point during the game.

To a 13-year-old, this was amazing.  Right up there with John Williams and Star Wars, why Uematsu wasn’t famous like Williams was a mystery to me back then.  I know now that among video game music fans, Uematsu is Williams.

I lament the fact that I cannot comment much on the current state of music in video games, but it is my understanding that on a level of basic technique, much hasn’t changed, the idea of writing cues that can be cut up to be transitioned between to suit a player’s actions is still there.  The major change is the switch from MIDI or more sophisticated computer software to, in many cases, digital recordings of live musicians.  Due to the large memory capacity of the media now involved, this is used more and more often.

Then there are games like the Grand Theft Auto series which use music in a very unusual way.  The gamer essentially selects the soundtrack by switching between radio stations in the stolen vehicles, and depending on what mood the player is in can determine what they listen to (Rap, Reggae, Classical, Talk, etc.).  I won’t say much more than that, but I do direct readers to an excellent recent article by Kiri Miller from the Fall 2007 issue of the journal Ethnomusicology for more on this.

I know that this isn’t very deep information, much is synthesized from my own readings of other scholars, but if one is new to musical scores in media, this might give some basics.