The first of what will hopefully be a series of several themed podcasts exploring my love of orchestral film music from the magic-making composers behind the scenes. This week - Jerry Goldsmith
Showing posts with label Soundtrack. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Soundtrack. Show all posts
Friday, 26 March 2010
Sunday, 10 January 2010
The Best of Goldsmith
What composer Jerry Goldsmith did with the language of film music was truly extraordinary. Showing an uncanny ability to fuse ethnic instruments or electronics with an orchestra, and with an unfailingly dramatic touch, it's unlikely we'll ever see another of his kind. But don't take my word for it: here are some of his finest achievements in film scoring.
Innerspace - Gut Reaction
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bZUB7J44m0g
Total Recall - Clever GirlStar Trek: The Motion Picture - Main Title/Klingon Battle
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXYjvrzJkl8&feature=related
First Blood - The RazorThursday, 8 October 2009
Seminal Scores: Apollo 13 (James Horner, 1995)
With hugely exciting news (well, for film score devotees like myself) on James Horner's proposed 'epic' score for James Cameron's 3D marvel Avatar having hit the interweb, perhaps it's time to reflect on what a good composer Horner can be when he doesn't slip into complacency and self-plagiarism.
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James Horner had a blindingly good year in 1995, composing six (yes, six) movie scores. Presumably he had time to finish his breakfast every once in a while. Two of these scores are certified masterpieces (Apollo 13, the subject of this review, and Braveheart) while the others veer from excellent (Balto) to good (Casper) to mixed (Jumanji, Jade).
Braveheart has understandably stolen the limelight in the intervening years with its bombastic pipe and orchestra arrangements becoming an instant staple for film music compilations and intents of heroism. However for a score that flies its flag somewhat more subtly (although no less nobly) we have to look to that which accompanied Ron Howard's recreation of Apollo 13.
Howard received probably the greatest acclaim of his career to date with Apollo 13, drawing considerable praise for underscoring the immaculate technical credits with quiet patriotism and genuine heart. Well with wholesome Tom Hanks in the starring role, what did we expect? Also along for the ride (as he had been for several of Howard's efforts beforehand, including Cocoon and Willow) was Horner, whose calmly dignified score is one of the movie's key attributes.
Horner is a composer frequently (and justly) scorned for self-plagiarism but there's none of that in Apollo 13. Like Braveheart and his masterpiece Legends of the Fall from 1994, Howard's film clearly inspired the composer to pull something great out of the bag. Tonally, the music is consistent with previous efforts but the music itself is all original.
One qualm existing with Apollo 13's commercial album release is in its presentation, mixing several cues of Horner with dialogue exercepts and source music from artists like Jefferson Airplane and Jimi Hendrix. Luckily the score is strong enough to stand on its own. The Main Title is one of the composer's most understated, a graceful trumpet melody (performed by the great Tim Morrison) speaking of the American Spirit, of the Space Age and of discovery. It's referenced very little in the underscore proper but forms suitable bookends, and its lack of mawkishness is a big relief (Horner's intention was instead to score the documentary idealism of the film).
The lengthy warm tones of All Systems Go/The Launch is one of those classic 'building' cues Horner does so well, holding the listener's interest over a lengthy track as the astronauts depart on their doomed venture. The trumpet again is aglow with patriotism, prepping us for the sudden shift in dramatic tension in the midway section of the soundtrack (and film).
The thrilling action that explodes in Master Alarm casts an immediate dark shadow over the space expedition, with rapid snare drum clusters and Horner's fearsome 'crashing' piano (heard in The Pelican Brief) creating a suitably claustrophobic atmosphere and shattering the earlier idyll. Into the Lem, the next Horner track, thus proceeds in a much gloomier fashion, the strings, percussion and trumpet coming off more pensive as the protagonists are forced to confront their dangerous situation.
Darkside of the Moon changes the tone of the score yet again, to that of ethereal, haunting beauty as Annie Lennox' eerie vocals precede the arrival of the full orchestra. Here is where the Main Title arrangement makes a most prominent and moving appearance, sounding a lament for the failure of the mission yet celebrating the heroism of the characters.
Then we arrive at the score's quite simply magnificent conclusion, Horner pulling out all the emotional stops (as he frequently does at the climax of his albums) as the ill-fated ship makes its journey back to Earth. Re-Entry/Splashdown brings out the electronic choir/orchestra combo in spine-tingling fashion, underpinned by nervy snare drums as those on the ground await the craft's arrival (there's even a motif in there to be stolen by Horner himself in Enemy at the Gates in 2001). Things quieten for a bit before the triumphant, anthemic second half really brings tears to the eyes.
The End Credits then bring in a pulsating, electronic beat beneath Lennox' vocals (much more effective a tactic here than in Titanic) before the beautiful choir and eventually main theme rounds off the score, allowing the listener (and those involved in the film's real-life dramas) to look in hope to the future. There's little else to be said for the magnificence of this soundtrack: Horner really did peak in the 90s with efforts like this and the world waits with baited breath for Avatar, to see if he can rekindle the elusive magic that guided Apollo 13 and others. Fingers crossed!
Braveheart has understandably stolen the limelight in the intervening years with its bombastic pipe and orchestra arrangements becoming an instant staple for film music compilations and intents of heroism. However for a score that flies its flag somewhat more subtly (although no less nobly) we have to look to that which accompanied Ron Howard's recreation of Apollo 13.
Howard received probably the greatest acclaim of his career to date with Apollo 13, drawing considerable praise for underscoring the immaculate technical credits with quiet patriotism and genuine heart. Well with wholesome Tom Hanks in the starring role, what did we expect? Also along for the ride (as he had been for several of Howard's efforts beforehand, including Cocoon and Willow) was Horner, whose calmly dignified score is one of the movie's key attributes.
Horner is a composer frequently (and justly) scorned for self-plagiarism but there's none of that in Apollo 13. Like Braveheart and his masterpiece Legends of the Fall from 1994, Howard's film clearly inspired the composer to pull something great out of the bag. Tonally, the music is consistent with previous efforts but the music itself is all original.
One qualm existing with Apollo 13's commercial album release is in its presentation, mixing several cues of Horner with dialogue exercepts and source music from artists like Jefferson Airplane and Jimi Hendrix. Luckily the score is strong enough to stand on its own. The Main Title is one of the composer's most understated, a graceful trumpet melody (performed by the great Tim Morrison) speaking of the American Spirit, of the Space Age and of discovery. It's referenced very little in the underscore proper but forms suitable bookends, and its lack of mawkishness is a big relief (Horner's intention was instead to score the documentary idealism of the film).
The lengthy warm tones of All Systems Go/The Launch is one of those classic 'building' cues Horner does so well, holding the listener's interest over a lengthy track as the astronauts depart on their doomed venture. The trumpet again is aglow with patriotism, prepping us for the sudden shift in dramatic tension in the midway section of the soundtrack (and film).
The thrilling action that explodes in Master Alarm casts an immediate dark shadow over the space expedition, with rapid snare drum clusters and Horner's fearsome 'crashing' piano (heard in The Pelican Brief) creating a suitably claustrophobic atmosphere and shattering the earlier idyll. Into the Lem, the next Horner track, thus proceeds in a much gloomier fashion, the strings, percussion and trumpet coming off more pensive as the protagonists are forced to confront their dangerous situation.
Darkside of the Moon changes the tone of the score yet again, to that of ethereal, haunting beauty as Annie Lennox' eerie vocals precede the arrival of the full orchestra. Here is where the Main Title arrangement makes a most prominent and moving appearance, sounding a lament for the failure of the mission yet celebrating the heroism of the characters.
Then we arrive at the score's quite simply magnificent conclusion, Horner pulling out all the emotional stops (as he frequently does at the climax of his albums) as the ill-fated ship makes its journey back to Earth. Re-Entry/Splashdown brings out the electronic choir/orchestra combo in spine-tingling fashion, underpinned by nervy snare drums as those on the ground await the craft's arrival (there's even a motif in there to be stolen by Horner himself in Enemy at the Gates in 2001). Things quieten for a bit before the triumphant, anthemic second half really brings tears to the eyes.
The End Credits then bring in a pulsating, electronic beat beneath Lennox' vocals (much more effective a tactic here than in Titanic) before the beautiful choir and eventually main theme rounds off the score, allowing the listener (and those involved in the film's real-life dramas) to look in hope to the future. There's little else to be said for the magnificence of this soundtrack: Horner really did peak in the 90s with efforts like this and the world waits with baited breath for Avatar, to see if he can rekindle the elusive magic that guided Apollo 13 and others. Fingers crossed!
-----
Here's the Avatar article to stoke the fires of interest in the meantime!
Monday, 21 September 2009
Hollywood's Unsung Elite: The Silver Screen's Overlooked Film Composers
Ask someone on the street to name a famous film composer and chances are the name John Williams will spring to their lips. Or if they're into their hip 'n quirky cinema, Danny Elfman. None of this is without reason: Williams' hard work in crafting some of the big screen's most iconic yet accessible themes is unsurpassed in Hollywood, his repertoire including the Star Wars trilogies, Jaws, ET, the Indy flicks and the first two Jurassic Parks. Becoming Stephen Spielberg's composer of choice certainly didn't do any harm.
There are others high on the list, including the four 'J's': Jerry Goldsmith, James' Horner and Newton Howard and John Barry. But what about those that slave (or did slave) away at the bottom of the ladder, generating popcorn thrills without getting a fraction of the attention Williams gets? Film scoring is a vast collage of musicians and styles and it's inevitable some composers get lost in the mix.
Take the late Michael Kamen for example. When he sadly passed away in 2003, film music had lost what was arguably one of its most original voices. Kamen, in the late 1980s, had the great fortune (or misfortune) to become attached to some of the greatest action movies ever made, including the Lethal Weapon and D
ie Hard series', Licence to Kill and Road House, hard-edged, violent, contemporary fare that simply didn't call for the operatics of a Williams or a Horner. As a result Kamen's contribution to the above movies is overlooked...when it is in fact one of their key attributes.
Forgoing OTT tendencies, in Die Hard, Kamen chose instead to accentuate much of the suspense, with careful 'micky-mousing' (all plucked strings and nervy brass) accompanying Bruce Willis' John McClane through every air shaft and narrow corridor. The flipside is the grand integration of Beethoven's 9th Symphony as a leitmotif for Alan Rickman's classically educated baddie, Hans Gruber, highlighting beautifully the dapper, elegant side of the ruthless terrorist who could recognise a John Phillips suit from a mile off. It's an incredibly intellectual and witty way to score an action picture, Kamen's music blending chameleon-like into the very fabric of the film.
This of course means his score gets ignored in the wider scheme of things. There's no Raiders March here although when the composer pulls out the action stops, he's up there with the best of them (the SWAT assault on the tower in Die Hard and Mel Gibson's frantic on-foot pursuit of Gary Busey in Lethal Weapon being notable examples). On the subject of Lethal Weapon, Kamen also demonstrates how successfully a score can cross over into the pop domain, with Eric Clapton and David Sanborn providing their own themes for Martin Riggs and Roger Murtaugh. It's an example of how a consummate composer is egoless enough to hand over the reins to other musicians in order to create the perfect musical tapestry for the film. Kamen's pop skills have also been broadcast elsewhere in his concert work with Metallica.
Another composer who rose to prominence in the 80s was Basil Poledouris (who also recently passed away) and whose effort for Conan the Barbarian is one of the finest fantasy scores ever written. Yet it's unlikely anyone could hum themes from it because, again, it's been overlooked in favour of other scores unveiled in the same year (1982 saw the certain John Williams flavoured picture ET soar through multiplexes). Recent works like Howard Shore's Lord of the Rings also command more attention through their sheer bombast and astonishing variety of themes.
Poledouris' work shamefully wasn't even nominated for an Oscar but it's better than any of Shore's trilogy works simply because it's more important to the film itself. Instead of acting as underscore, the music fills the gaps between the (hilariously wooden) acting and dialogue, becoming a narrative mechanism in its own right, almost akin to an opera. From the thunderous opening Anvil of Crom to the chanting choir for the Riders of Doom to the screeching, grinding Wheel of Pain, Poledouris is always there, accentuating every emotion with careful orchestration and lush themes. Theme writing is a strength of this composer and it's a pity that so much of his work, including Big Wednesday, The Blue Lagoon, Robocop and Starship Troopers, remains an undiscovered treasure trove.
Replicating the sound of John Williams in the 80s but with entirely his own voice was Bruce Broughton who burst onto the stage with scores for Lawrence Kasdan's Silverado and Barry Levinson's Young Sherlock Holmes, both in 1985. The latter is noteworthy as one of the finest scores ever written composed for a family adventure film, with executive producer Stephen Spielberg's influence evident on both film and music. However this isn't to suggest that Broughton's work is a mere pastiche of Williams'. Far from it. Broughton's central theme for Holmes himself is a delightful scherzo but it's in the incidental music that he really shines, crafting moments of terror in the blowpipe hallucination sequences, a chilling choral chant for the sacrificial cult of the Rametep (what is it with 80s kids films and human sacrifice?) and some breathtaking action pieces (the conclusive Ehtar's Final Battle, for those who can track the all-too-rare music down, is one of the most ferocious pieces of action music ever composed).
So where is Broughton now? Disgracefully he is languishing in the bargain basement of inferior TV dramas and animation like Bambi 2. Just imagine what he could have done with Iron Man instead of the hideous noise peddled by Hans Zimmer protege Ramin Djawadi (sensibly, director John Favreau is returning to his usual collaborator, John Debney, for the sequel). One unfortunate by-product of Broughton's brief career in the spotlight was that he simply familiar films that weren't especially good or high profile from Baby's Day Out to Honey I Blew Up The Kid to the remake of Narrow Margin. True it is that Star Wars is hardly the best film ever made but it was a global phenomemon and made pots of money, shooting John Williams into the stratosphere. Who, by contrast, has heard of The Presidio (scored by Broughton)? Me neither.
So where does that leave the consumer? With an absurd assortment of riches! The net, especially Spotify, Youtube and Ebay is primed for everyone to seek out these neglected artists and other composers who haven't warranted a mention. As for all the brouhaha over who's going to score the next Harry Potter (Nicholas Hooper has jumped ship)...give it to Bruce Broughton!
There are others high on the list, including the four 'J's': Jerry Goldsmith, James' Horner and Newton Howard and John Barry. But what about those that slave (or did slave) away at the bottom of the ladder, generating popcorn thrills without getting a fraction of the attention Williams gets? Film scoring is a vast collage of musicians and styles and it's inevitable some composers get lost in the mix.
Take the late Michael Kamen for example. When he sadly passed away in 2003, film music had lost what was arguably one of its most original voices. Kamen, in the late 1980s, had the great fortune (or misfortune) to become attached to some of the greatest action movies ever made, including the Lethal Weapon and D
ie Hard series', Licence to Kill and Road House, hard-edged, violent, contemporary fare that simply didn't call for the operatics of a Williams or a Horner. As a result Kamen's contribution to the above movies is overlooked...when it is in fact one of their key attributes.Forgoing OTT tendencies, in Die Hard, Kamen chose instead to accentuate much of the suspense, with careful 'micky-mousing' (all plucked strings and nervy brass) accompanying Bruce Willis' John McClane through every air shaft and narrow corridor. The flipside is the grand integration of Beethoven's 9th Symphony as a leitmotif for Alan Rickman's classically educated baddie, Hans Gruber, highlighting beautifully the dapper, elegant side of the ruthless terrorist who could recognise a John Phillips suit from a mile off. It's an incredibly intellectual and witty way to score an action picture, Kamen's music blending chameleon-like into the very fabric of the film.
This of course means his score gets ignored in the wider scheme of things. There's no Raiders March here although when the composer pulls out the action stops, he's up there with the best of them (the SWAT assault on the tower in Die Hard and Mel Gibson's frantic on-foot pursuit of Gary Busey in Lethal Weapon being notable examples). On the subject of Lethal Weapon, Kamen also demonstrates how successfully a score can cross over into the pop domain, with Eric Clapton and David Sanborn providing their own themes for Martin Riggs and Roger Murtaugh. It's an example of how a consummate composer is egoless enough to hand over the reins to other musicians in order to create the perfect musical tapestry for the film. Kamen's pop skills have also been broadcast elsewhere in his concert work with Metallica.
Another composer who rose to prominence in the 80s was Basil Poledouris (who also recently passed away) and whose effort for Conan the Barbarian is one of the finest fantasy scores ever written. Yet it's unlikely anyone could hum themes from it because, again, it's been overlooked in favour of other scores unveiled in the same year (1982 saw the certain John Williams flavoured picture ET soar through multiplexes). Recent works like Howard Shore's Lord of the Rings also command more attention through their sheer bombast and astonishing variety of themes.
Poledouris' work shamefully wasn't even nominated for an Oscar but it's better than any of Shore's trilogy works simply because it's more important to the film itself. Instead of acting as underscore, the music fills the gaps between the (hilariously wooden) acting and dialogue, becoming a narrative mechanism in its own right, almost akin to an opera. From the thunderous opening Anvil of Crom to the chanting choir for the Riders of Doom to the screeching, grinding Wheel of Pain, Poledouris is always there, accentuating every emotion with careful orchestration and lush themes. Theme writing is a strength of this composer and it's a pity that so much of his work, including Big Wednesday, The Blue Lagoon, Robocop and Starship Troopers, remains an undiscovered treasure trove.
Replicating the sound of John Williams in the 80s but with entirely his own voice was Bruce Broughton who burst onto the stage with scores for Lawrence Kasdan's Silverado and Barry Levinson's Young Sherlock Holmes, both in 1985. The latter is noteworthy as one of the finest scores ever written composed for a family adventure film, with executive producer Stephen Spielberg's influence evident on both film and music. However this isn't to suggest that Broughton's work is a mere pastiche of Williams'. Far from it. Broughton's central theme for Holmes himself is a delightful scherzo but it's in the incidental music that he really shines, crafting moments of terror in the blowpipe hallucination sequences, a chilling choral chant for the sacrificial cult of the Rametep (what is it with 80s kids films and human sacrifice?) and some breathtaking action pieces (the conclusive Ehtar's Final Battle, for those who can track the all-too-rare music down, is one of the most ferocious pieces of action music ever composed).
So where is Broughton now? Disgracefully he is languishing in the bargain basement of inferior TV dramas and animation like Bambi 2. Just imagine what he could have done with Iron Man instead of the hideous noise peddled by Hans Zimmer protege Ramin Djawadi (sensibly, director John Favreau is returning to his usual collaborator, John Debney, for the sequel). One unfortunate by-product of Broughton's brief career in the spotlight was that he simply familiar films that weren't especially good or high profile from Baby's Day Out to Honey I Blew Up The Kid to the remake of Narrow Margin. True it is that Star Wars is hardly the best film ever made but it was a global phenomemon and made pots of money, shooting John Williams into the stratosphere. Who, by contrast, has heard of The Presidio (scored by Broughton)? Me neither.
So where does that leave the consumer? With an absurd assortment of riches! The net, especially Spotify, Youtube and Ebay is primed for everyone to seek out these neglected artists and other composers who haven't warranted a mention. As for all the brouhaha over who's going to score the next Harry Potter (Nicholas Hooper has jumped ship)...give it to Bruce Broughton!
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