Showing posts with label Alan Silvestri. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alan Silvestri. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Overview of 2015 Scores Part 1 of 3

I seem to be consistently buying 27-29 new soundtracks a year since I started these sublimely prosaic “Year in Review” posts. Although I wouldn’t call any of them duds, I can’t really say there were any jaw-dropping masterpieces either. Film-score wise, I’ll remember 2015 as the year I discovered Miklós Rózsa and Naoki Sato; nothing I’ve heard this year exhilarated me more than the scores to, say, Ben-Hur or Space Battleship Yamato.

2015 saw Thomas Newman tucking a second Bond score and a first Spielberg score under his belt; neither was particularly outstanding, but they still evinced Newman’s compositional and dramatic dexterity; his Oscar is long overdue. Brian Tyler also took on two high-profile scores, one of which featured surprise contributions from Danny Elfman. John Powell also provided a “surprise” replacement score, while his old compadre Harry Gregson-Williams proved that he’s still force to be reckoned with. And while one force awakened in December, the year belonged to Michael Giacchino, who wrote four scores ranging from very good to excellent.

2015 did have its fair share of lamentable scores, but I elected not to buy them on CD or digital; hearing them in the film was enough. Chappie by Hans Zimmer turned out to be a bunch of electronic noise—certainly a disappointment following his work on Interstellar the previous year. I literally don’t remember if there was any original score in Clouds of Sils Maria, but I do remember some classical pieces, Pachelbel’s Canon in D being the foremost. Mission: Impossible Rogue Nation by Joe Kraemer wasn’t bad, but it didn’t grab me, especially after I read so many rave reviews. Finally, Mad Max: Fury Road by Tom Holkenborg had perhaps five minutes of music that made me perk up my non-elfin ears a bit, but the rest failed to rise above standard RC monotony.

Finally, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention James Horner. His score for Southpaw featured a sadly nondescript, droning score. On a happier note, I did discover Cocoon, one of his masterpieces. I was never the biggest fan of Horner’s music, despite really liking a few of his scores. After his untimely death, I re-evaluated some of his works—A Beautiful Mind was as dull as ever besides the sublime opening 90 seconds of the first track, but I’ve gained more appreciation for Glory and The Perfect Storm. His best works did manifest his superb dramatic instincts, and it’s fitting that La-La Land Records capped off this year with an expanded release of Braveheart—one testament of many to the remarkable gifts of a man taken from us all too soon.

I know there are still oodles of scores that I haven’t listened to, but at this point, it will take me a while before I can get to anything new. For the time being, here is my ranking of 2015’s scores:

28. He Named Me Malala (Thomas Newman)



Newman sat firmly in his comfort zone for this documentary, and the results aren’t quite as consistently entertaining as Saving Mr. Banks, his comfort zone score from last year. Still, tracks like “A Pashtun Story” and “Which Camera Now?” offer generous helpings of Newman’s appealing, sequence-based bundles of exotic color, while “School V. Celebrity” bristles with optimistic enthusiasm entirely befitting the young girl who serves as the documentary’s subject. “The Women” imparts tranquility through an almost Renaissance-styled tune, while “66 Million Girls” features poignant piano and female vocals and touching orchestral swells. Outside those cues, though, the score remains low-key, as many tracks pass by without making much of an impression. If Newman writes another comfort zone score next year, let’s hope that its average tracks match the quality of this score’s highlight tracks.

27. Furious 7 (Brian Tyler)



If you want a score dripping with testosterone-fueled adrenaline, you can count on Brian Tyler to deliver—all with a winning smile and painstakingly styled hair. Tyler’s score for this film is a step back from his entertaining tunes to Fast Five, though still better than what any other composer has brought to this series so far. Electronics play a bigger role here—I’d say they were dubstep-influenced, but what do I know? “A Completely Insane Plan,” “Mountain Hijack,” “Party Crashers,” and “Hobbs Is the Cavalry” offer spurts of Tyler’s action, but none prove as thrilling as the extended “Train Heist” or “Vault Heist” from Fast Five—I suspect much of 7’s action has been cut from the album. The over-the-top (if brief) stentorian, doomsday choral statements in “Battle of the Titans” do offer campy entertainment, while the statements of the simple yet energizing Fast Five theme form a satisfying link to the past.

26. Goosebumps (Danny Elfman)



Danny Elfman has always been one of my favorite composers, and many film score fans have hailed this score as a throwback to Elfman’s fun, Gothic days—how’s that for an oxymoron? Indeed, fleeting phrases call to mind bits like Sleepy Hollow, the Mayor’s theme from Nightmare Before Christmas, Catwoman’s and Penguin’s themes from Batman Returns, and Elfman’s trademark, twisted lullaby-celeste melodies. Yet this score didn’t really cohere for me. The title track is a clear highlight, with the sinuous main theme snaking its way through the orchestra, complete with theremin and voices. A surprisingly tender theme, first heard in “Ferris Wheel,” developed in cues such as “Hannah’s Back” and “Farewell,” rounds out the thematic palette. Neither theme is among Elfman’s best, though, so despite the expected dexterity of Elfman’s writing, this score will have to settle for a lesser position in the composer’s impressive catalog.

25. SPECTRE (Thomas Newman)



I enjoyed Newman’s score for Skyfall, though I’d still rate it below most of David Arnold’s Bond entries. SPECTRE is less consistent than Skyfall, dragged down by a fair share of droning tracks. Newman derives much of the action material from Skyfall’s pre-credit sequence and, during the climax, a throbbing, 13-note electric guitar ostinato from “The Moors.” Still, Newman adds a dash of vibrancy to SPECTRE with his use of voices, backing the orchestra in “The Eternal City” before bursting forth magnificently in the premier action cue “Backfire.” “Snow Plane,” “Safe House,” and “Detonation” offer escalating action enhancing the sense of jeopardy (though of course we know that Bond won’t die) while “Westminster Bridge” features a ripping statement of the Bond theme for trumpets in such a high register that it would make David Arnold grin. Though Newman uses the choir sparingly, the choral work really does provide most of the score’s interest; as Angels in America proves, Newman + choir = brilliance.

24. The End of the Tour (Danny Elfman)



Elfman in subdued drama mode is always a nice change of pace, even if it seldom results in show-stopping scores. Mallet percussion instruments (including marimba) serve as the metallic spine of this score. Most of the tracks consist of drawn-out notes meditating on whatever the film’s characters are ruminating on, I suppose. But in tracks such as “Talk to Jan” and “Minneapolis,” the percolating percussion creates an atmosphere at once amiable, kinetic, and subtly melancholy. “Mall of America” evokes a more carefree happiness, inviting the listener to cast aside their cares for its 48 second running time. The chimes of tubular bells lend “Going Sour” a more reverent tint, though buzzing electronics keep the tone from becoming liturgical. Though Elfman displays inventiveness with the instrumentation, he doesn’t provide the score with a melodic hook or profound emotion. However, his track record proves that he probably did provide what was best for the film.

Lacking a strong central theme, this score instead relies on nimble lines on solo instruments and the charm of its variegated set pieces. “Young Philippe” introduces a delightful waltz theme that would make a worthy dance partner with the effervescently confident main character, but the theme sadly doesn’t recur that often—in fact, it reaches its lush apex in the very next cue, “The Towers of Notre Dame,” and only appears in fragmented form in the last track. (I’m too lazy to type out its full name, which is worthy of James Horner.) “We Have a Problem” showcases Silvestri’s always-exciting rhythmic action, but quiet, anticipatory tension makes up the bulk of the score. Synth choir (mostly female, except for in the cue “I Feel Thankful”) aptly reflects the ethereal, almost otherworldly feeling of walking thousands of feet in the air, but a strong main theme to reflect Petit’s physical and emotional journey would’ve helped make this score even better

22. San Andreas (Andrew Lockington)



Andrew Lockington writes accomplished, adventurous music that has pleased many, yet I find his music lacks that ineffable enchantment that makes me really love a particular score. San Andreas finds Lockington writing in a more modern style than he has previously, complete with pounding drums, low string ostinatos, and Inception foghorns. The “Main Theme” introduces an elegiac boys’ choir, and a lyrical sense of melody infuses much of the action cues with anthemic triumph. In some ways, this score represents how I wish Hans Zimmer’s action style had developed after 1998. But while “Extinction” and “Resuscitation” thrust the choir to heights of glory (OK, I’m exaggerating a bit), the themes themselves are nebulous; even after listening to the bookend tracks several times, I have trouble picking out the themes in the body of the score. Some have compared Lockington to David Arnold; while I won’t get into that here, I will say that Lockington’s scores always tend to peter out, while Arnold liked to end his adventure scores with spectacularly overblown apotheoses, complete with blazing orchestral fanfares and rapturous choral hosannas.

21. Victor Frankenstein (Craig Armstrong)




Although Armstrong fleshes out the film’s characters with Gothic music (and, considering Mary Shelley’s original book, the word “Gothic” is actually appropriate), he focuses more on brooding darkness than on thrilling terror—the opposite of Patrick Doyle’s approach to Kenneth Branagh’s Frankenstein film. In “Dark Red Theme 2,” lush strings and sympathetic choir pour out a melody of resigned tragedy. “Igor Transformed” boasts a childlike, almost heavenly rendition of the theme, demonstrating the melody’s versatility. When the action does come in “Gordon’s Escape,” “Turpin’s Theme,” “Reunited,” and “Finale,” brass snarls, arpeggios swirl, voices chant, and strings rampage alongside the onscreen monster(s). Particularly impressive is how Armstrong wrings dark tragedy, usually the domain of low strings and brass, out of high strings and female voices. Armstrong doesn’t use the themes as much as I would’ve liked, and while the score does well portraying the tragic, it doesn’t quite become truly heart-rending. Still, I was mostly impressed by this score from an unexpected quarter.

Read Part 2 here.

Read Part 3 here.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

The Walk (Alan Silvestri)

In Brief:

Alan Silvestri, who has scored every Robert Zemeckis film since Romancing the Stone in 1984, provides his most faithful collaborator with a warmhearted score. The film, starring Joseph Gordon-Levitt (best known for his critically-acclamied role as Cobra Commander in the first GI Joe movie), chronicles Phillipe Petit's leisurely stroll between the two towers of the World Trade Center. From a wire stretched between the towers' roofs. I'm guessing the film's about more than just the walk, especially as the film's 123 minutes long and the walk itself took about 45 minutes in real life. Or who knows; maybe the credits are 78 minutes long.

The most welcome feature of this score, at a time when most film scores are percussive, synth-based walls of sound, is the varied orchestration. Solo instruments, especially woodwinds, get their time to shine, the players pouring their hearts and carbon dioxide into simple yet gorgeous melodies that enrich the score. Lending variety to the soundtrack are passages of blues/jazz, lush French-flavored waltzes, and brief snatches of brassy, rhythmic action in the best Silvestri tradition (a la Back to the Future and The Avengers). However, the bulk of the score emphasizes warm string writing; an intriguing echoing-piano effect recurs throughout, with eerie (or cheap, depending on your tastes) female synth choir coming to the fore in the last half of the score. While not as thematically rich and stirring as the composer's Forrest Gump, The Polar Express, or even Stuart Little and Lilo & Stitch, it is nowhere near as subdued as Flight, Cast Away, or The Bodyguard. Although there are some recognizable motifs, there's no single strong theme. Yet the stylistic variety, delicacy and clarity of the orchestrations, and sincerity of the melodies add up to a decent achievement from this veteran composer.

Playlist-Worthy Tracks:
Young Phillipe
The Towers of Notre Dame
"We Have a Problem"
"I Feel Thankful"
"They Want to Kill You"
"Perhaps You Brought Them to Life--Gave Them a Soul"

Analysis Begins with Anal:

Pouquoi?: Waves of strings, reminiscent of Cast Away, are what really lie beneath an echoing piano motif. The cue transitions to cool jazz (or maybe that's the wrong term; I don't know all the sub genres of blues/jazz) in the same mold as Who Framed Roger Rabbit? with plucked string bass, sax, drum kit, and muted trumpet.

Young Phillipe: Piano and almost ethereal strings lead into a playful brass waltz, which blossoms gloriously into full orchestra. This delightfully lyrical waltz theme, presumably for some romantic aspect of the story, is the strongest melody of the score.

Two Loves: An accordion serves as the rhythmic spine for a melancholy tune in 3/4 time. Pizzicato strings back flute, clarinet, and piano before the string section takes up the sighing melody.

Towers of Notre Dame: Accordion, clarinet and a plucked instrument I ashamedly can't name lend a distinctly French (but not stuck-up) flavor to the proceedings. The mood changes to jazz again with ballsy brass outbursts and a flute trill before the lovely waltz theme returns in full orchestra; clarinet and celeste gracefully round out the piece.

"It's Something Beautiful": A churning string motor leads to a synth crash. Synth beats pulse under an expectant bassoon tune. Later in the cue, sparse piano hovers above a sustained string line, finishing with the orchestral waltz theme.

Spy Work: Silvestri provides his take on 1960s spy music, complete with bongos, muted brass, and a fat low (tenor? baritone?) sax bass line.

Full of Doubt: Portentous chimes lead to the return of the expectant bassoon tune from "It's Something Beautiful."

Time Passes: Churning strings and brass outbursts find Silvestri in his comfortable action mode. At 0:37, we're treated to a trademark Silvestri brass fanfare and response from strings. The next section with tick-tocking percussion and synth recalls his some of his work on the TV show Cosmos. The strings crescendo against counterpoint from French horns and then trumpets. Frenzied strings build to a final brass stinger.

The Arrow: A cello playing a gypsy-like melody opens the track. Celeste (or maybe it's glockenspiel) play a mischievous, Elfman-like line, charmingly repeated by brass. Strings continue to churn before dying down to meditative piano, celeste, and oboe. A string ostinato returns below menacing low brass.

"We Have a Problem": The ostinato from last track returns, but in pizzicato with a couple of statement from celeste. Silvestri enters his familiar militaristic action mode again before an explosion of synth percussion precedes a continuance of the ostinato. A fatalistic line from trumpets, then strings enters as the synths intensify. A dramatic melody (whose opening sounds just a little like Davy Jones's theme from Hans Zimmer's Pirated of the Caribbean score) provides some neat structural symmetry; as with the previous fatalistic line, it's played by trumpets and repeated in the string section.

The Walk: The Cast Away tone of first track, complete with echoing piano over strings, is reprised. Female synth voices make their first entrance in the score at  2:45 (bringing to mind Titanic, of all things). Strings and horns eventually enter, swelling with a sense of relief.

"I Feel Thankful": The track opens with Fur Elise on piano before the full orchestra--strings then brass--take it up. The bulk of the cue consists of a quasi-march, interrupted twice. The first time, flute, clarinet, and oboe take up waltz theme over the synth choir before launching into an exquisite melody. In the second "interruption," the orchestra busts into a bittersweet theme with male synth choir (the only time we hear male synth voices on the entire soundtrack).

"They Want to Kill You": Synth and percussion punctuate skittering strings, over which an inexorable brass melody plays. The Davy Jones melody returns, then cathartic strings and female voices enter, an inspirational brass melody soaring above. A variation of the melody subsequently repeats in low strings.

"There Is No Why": A brief heavenly string statement, similar to Silvestri's score for James Cameron's The Abyss (the melodic shape recalls the opening of "Bud on the Ledge") opens the cue. The Cast Away swells and echoing piano return briefly before giving way to a  tender, deliberately paced melody for strings with scattered woodwind solos. Echoing piano returns to close the cue.

"Perhaps You Brought Them to Life--Given Them a Soul": Perhaps this cue's lengthy, vaguely pretentious title is an homage to James Horner (who recently passed away in June).  English horn (or very low oboe) starts things off before clarinet, oboe, and flute successfully play fragments of the waltz melody. However, Silvestri alters the tune here, the final note lifting instead of falling. Rich strings and gorgeously cascading piano follow, after which the echoing piano enters for the final time, eventually joined by the orchestra and subtle female synth choir. After a final swell of strings, the echoing piano and a low string tone close out the score on a tranquil note.

Friday, January 16, 2015

Overview of 2014 Scores Part 2 of 3

Link to Part 1

20. Unbroken (Alexandre Desplat)
For this film adaptation of the incredible account of Louis Zamperini, Alexandre Desplat penned a score that, for the most part, favors restraint over bold heroism (at director Angelina Jolie’s request). Desplat’s adroit musicianship still yields choice moments, including the choral beauty of “We Are Here,” the surging strings of “Coming Home,” the driving latter half of “Dead Comrades,” the melancholy, exotic flute in “The Bird’s Farewell,” and the full orchestra’s grandeur in the final cues “”The War is Over” and “Unbroken.” It’s not as distinctive as the best of Desplat’s work, but there’s still much to admire. What’s even more impressive is that this is my least favorite of the five Desplat scores I heard this year.

19. Big Eyes (Danny Elfman)
The most subdued Elfman score for a Tim Burton film, Big Eyes makes use of piano and orchestra in a style somewhat reminiscent of the score to Big Fish. Pleasant, harmonically pleasing tunes abound, though Elfman inevitably introduces moments of dissonance from time to time (most notably in the prickly cue “Walter”) to spice things up. “Margaret” is almost Thomas Newman-esque with its sequence-based phrases for piano and strings. However, Elfman definitely makes the score his own with use of marimba, from the rapidly cascading figures of “Opening” to the more languid pulsations of “End Credits.” There’s no lilting choir or grand themes; the music resembles Elfman’s score to Gus Van Sant’s Restless, sans guitar. But Elfman, even in subdued mode, squeezes in skillful tunes and emotionally effective figures that impress more than the more splashy pyrotechnics of certain other composers’ scores.

18. The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1 (James Newton Howard)
The score to this film (I’m too lazy to spell the whole thing out again) is my favorite of the Hunger Games scores. Right off the bat, “The Mockingjay” introduces the magnificent, swelling strings of the JNH we all know and love (or should, at least). “Incoming Bombers” starts out with a thrusting electronic pulse before choir and a dizzying string figure enter. “Air Raid Drill” boasts spectacular interplay between strings, brass, and choir, repeated figures intensifying and building to an exquisite statement of anguish; a Signs-esque figure (never a bad thing in Howard’s hands) for flute and then full orchestra closes out the cue. And then there’s “The Hanging Tree;” sure, the melody’s great and all, and Jennifer Lawrence’s performance ain’t bad either. But Howard’s stirring orchestral/choral arrangement and embellishment at the end of the cue elevate it to near-sublimity. JNH’s scores for the Hunger Games films keep getting better and better; with any luck, his score to The Hunger Games Part 3 Part 2 will be a real gem.

17. 22 Jump Street (Mark Mothersbaugh)
Mothersbaugh’s catchy, simple, purposely overblown, and just plain awesome theme for the Jump Street movies would feel right at home in a Jerry Bruckheimer action movie. The composer lays on the electronics a little thick in the action scenes (especially in “Girl Fight/Beach Fight”), but not as overbearingly as he did in The Lego Movie. He breaks the theme down to its (very) basic chords as a pop groove in “Schmidt’s Walk of Shame,” and heroic snippets pepper “Infiltrating the Frat House” alongside a deliberately over-serious string ostinato. The rousing “Olympic Hazing Games” could very well play under a real Olympic event, while “Reunited/Spring Break” hypes the theme up into a form suitable for a dance floor (or rave, maybe, but I can’t speak to that as I’ve never been to one). Finally, the “End Credits” treats us to several settings of the theme, starting tenderly before bursting into dubstep and closing with another dance mix variation. The score isn’t very complex, but the theme is utterly irresistible. Play it at a rave and see what happens!

16. Cosmos (Alan Silvestri)
Silvestri treated soundtrack fans to four albums of his material for this miniseries based on Carl Sagan’s groundbreaking book. Few composers can do “big” as well as Silvestri, and the composer fortunately got the chance to write themes of splendor for the aptly named cues “Revelation of Immensity” and “The Staggering Immensity of Time.” The main title and end credits explore the questing main theme while cues such as “The Cosmos Is Yours” and “Once There Was a World” provide further music of an adventurous nature. But it’s not all just grandiose moments from beginning to end (which could be cool, but exhausting). “The Way We Live Now” and “The Pale Blue Dot” are almost melancholy in their beauty. Electronic pulses propel cues such as “4.5 Billion Years Old” and “The Speed of Light,” the former incorporating choir in the final seconds and the latter almost GI Joe-esque with its rock-influenced beats. Apparently, many don’t like Silvestri’s use of electronics, but I find his writing for synths quite entertaining.  The melodies aren’t as rousing as those from Back to the Future or The Mummy Returns, but I for one find a lot to like in these 2.7 hours of music.

15. Penny Dreadful (Abel Korzeniowski)
Korzeniowski’s star continues to rise, and his score to this lurid miniseries proves that last year’s Romeo and Juliet was no fluke. “Demimonde (Main Title)” kicks off the score with churning strings playing an angular theme. However, most of the score (at least on CD) exudes elegant melancholy outside this main title, though cues such as “Asylum” and “Mother of Monsters” provide plenty of dark, brutal moments. The latter half of the main title introduces a gorgeous theme that’s later unleashed in all its glory in the cue “Closer Than Sisters.” The character of Mina gets her own doleful little motif as well, and cues such as “Transgression,” and “Never Say No” exhibit Korzeniowski’s inimitable brand of romantic tragedy. “Transgression” and “Mother of Evil” see the composer delving into sinister writing for dark choir, a style we haven’t really heard from him before. Though Penny Dreadful certainly allows Korzeniowski to branch out beyond the romantic genre at which he excels, he still infuses each and every cue with his own nonpareil style.

14. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (Michael Giacchino)
While Giacchino’s score contains plenty of complex writing, the themes themselves are actually rather simple (though effective). “Level Plaguing Field” introduces the tragic theme for the human race, blossoming from piano to chorus. “Look Who’s Stalking” kicks off the complex side of the score, incorporating odd, Goldsmith-esque percussion and aleatoric voices before the frantic action takes over. “The Great Ape Processional” presents Caesar’s theme, a slow-moving, steadily rising melody that works equally well in delicate and triumphant modes. Finally, “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” brings in the most pervasive element of the score: a circular, menacing motif for the warlike side of the apes. In “Enough Monkeying Around,” this ape/war motif receives a massive rendition, while “Primates for Life” sees the Caesar theme reach its glorious apex. “Planet of the End Credits” presents a final, satisfying suite of all the thematic material. The score drags a bit when there’s no action and none of the themes are playing, but Giacchino crafts the elements together with consummate skill, aided by his firm sense of musical drama.

13. The Imitation Game (Alexandre Desplat)
To portray the genius, conflict, and inner emotion of Alan Turing (played by Benedict Cumberbatch), Desplat lays a gorgeous melody for strings over billowing pianos. A more lighthearted, almost playful bridge for flutes (heard in the title track) is quite lovely, though it doesn’t recur too often in the rest of the score. An ethereal ostinato played on a bell-like instrument (or synthesizer) lends an otherworldly quality to cues such as  “Alan” and “Alone with Numbers.” I like the latter half of “Joan,” a subtly churning piece that evokes a sense of quiet yet determined progress. “The Machine Christopher” creates a sound of busy, frenzied activity befitting its track title, while “Farewell to Christopher” strips the piano and strings down to their bare essences. “End of War” features a mournful, seesawing motif that keeps moving relentlessly forward, as if heralding the end of an era (and that just about fills up our “Pretentious Writing” quota for the day). Impressively, Desplat infuses the score with enough variety and development to keep it interesting the whole way through while never losing sight of the human story his music so intelligently supports.

12. Anonymous Rejected Filmscore (John Murphy)
Murphy took musical ideas from a rejected score and fashioned them into a standalone album. It’s very Murphy—that is, the music features lots of thrashing electric guitars, electronics, distorted instruments, and raw emotion built from compositionally straightforward building blocks. The opening track alone,“3:59 AM,” brings all these musical elements together, plus a child’s whisperings. But it’s not all just thrashing; “8mm Dream” has piano, strings, and some distorted instrument playing a lovely melody, while “Dead Ballerina” has hardly an electronic instrument in sight (or within hearing range). “1-2-3-4” contains monumental guitar builds that reminds me of his superb work on the 28 Days/28 Weeks Later films and his contributions to Kick-Ass. “How to Leave Your Body” touches the celestial heights of emotional glory that the composer previously reached in his score to Sunshine (and specifically the “Adagio in D Minor,” used splendidly in one of the most poignant scenes in Kick-Ass). To listen to this music is to hear Murphy unleashed, taking his established style and pushing it to heights unfettered.

11. Planes: Fire and Rescue (Mark Mancina)

I thought that Mancina’s theme for Planes was one of the best film themes of 2014, and he gets to play with it even more in this slightly superior sequel score. The main title track adds a driving string ostinato and bolder percussion, though the theme itself is played in a slightly more staccato manner. The action music is lengthier, better developed, and more exciting than in the previous installment; any cue with “Fire” in its name will suffice as an example of the invigorating music Mancina can cook up.  Heroic brass writing, swirling string runs, woodwind motifs, and judicious use of percussion permeate the action music throughout. “Training Dusty” has a wonderful feel, evoking the majesty of nature and introducing a power anthem that reaches its zenith in the climactic cues “Fire Heroes” and “Rescue Harvey & Winnie,” the latter adding choir to the mix. One of my favorite action moments occurs about a minute into “Lightning Storm Fire,” when a massive, sensational fanfare erupts out of the orchestra. The one downside of this score is its temp-track influences; there’s a bit of Elfman’s Batman in “Fire!” and more than a bit of Chicken Run in a theme introduced in “An All New Mayday” (the melody is different, but the tuba and snare drum backing is almost identical.) Nevertheless, this thrilling score proves that Mancina is still one of the best composers to emerge from Hans Zimmer’s studio.

Friday, January 24, 2014

Overview of 2013 Scores Part 2 of 3

20. After Earth (James Newton Howard)
Howard can usually be counted on to write superb scores for the films of M. Night Shyamalan, but for the first time, we have to settle with a merely OK one. The middle of the score is undoubtedly the weakest, filled with mostly uninteresting atmospheres. But the beginning and especially the last three cues (“Ghosting,” “I Wanna Work With Mom,” and “After Earth”) hint at the kind of music that made me fall in love with JNH’s scores 14 years ago. No one can do mystic grandeur quite like Howard can, but there are only traces of that beauty in this score.

19. Rush (Hans Zimmer)
After writing an underwhelming score for Man of Steel, Zimmer partially redeemed himself with his score for Ron Howard’s Rush. The score harks back to his “glory decade” of 1988-1998, with effective, memorable themes, propulsive action music, and moments of haunting simplicity. It starts out with entertaining, rock-based cues before moving on to the more serious action and intense emotion of cues such as “Nürburgring,” “Lost But Won,” and “My Best Enemy.” Though it doesn’t quite reach the heights of Zimmer’s best, it’s still his best score since Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End.

18. Monsters University (Randy Newman)
Newman’s score for Pixar’s first prequel is almost completely different from his score for Monsters, Inc. Eschewing the jazz angle he employed for the first film, Newman writes a noble tune for the university, new themes for Mike and Sulley, and marching band music, complete with drum corps. I happen to love the sound of marching band drums, and the upbeat cue “Rise and Shine” uses them to brilliant, rip-roaring effect (despite the end of the melody resembling John Williams’s theme for 1941). The score lacks the emotion of the original (namely Boo’s theme) and the action music is a little haphazard, but it definitely has its highlights.

17. Frozen (Christophe Beck, songs by Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez)
This was my first time hearing a feature score from Christophe Beck (I had only heard Paperman previously), and his score for this remarkable Disney film is solid, yet I can’t say there are any particular highlights. What brings it up are the songs—especially “For the First Time in Forever” and “Let It Go” (the Idina Menzel version), with “Love is An Open Door” and the melody for “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” not far behind. Though not on par with the best of Alan Menken, they are still surprisingly potent. My favorite track, though, is “Vuelie,” a choral track using the melody by Forde Fjellheim; its use under the film’s opening logos and title seems to herald a magical event.

16. Jack the Giant Slayer (John Ottman)
Ottman has never been one of my favorite composers, but this score proves he’s come a long way from the bland noodlings of X2. Ottman writes a commendably adventurous theme, though it still suffers a bit from his characteristic nebulosity. His action music is fine and frenzied, though somewhat diminished by references to other composers’ music. “Logo Mania,” underscoring what I presume is the logos, is my favorite cue of the score (much like the logo music for Frozen, Charlotte’s Web, A Beautiful Mind, and Kick-Ass 2).

15. Turbo (Henry Jackman)
Creating a score that merges full-bodied orchestral optimism with techno and dubstep beats may seem like a disaster from the pen of any film composer not named Elliot Goldenthal. Yet the versatile Henry Jackman manages to create a highly entertaining score that doesn’t skimp on either the orchestra or the electronics. The sheer delight and enthusiasm of the orchestral themes in cues like “And It Looks Like the Winner Is” combine with the high-octane beats of tracks such as “Indy 500” and “Supersnail.” “Turbo,” the final track, features a confluence of the two qualities in a score that is brought down only by its slight themes. It’s no Wreck-It Ralph, but it’s still impressive. Turbo-tastic!

14. The Croods (Alan Silvestri)
Alan Silvestri has three great themes in this colorful score: the Croods family theme, the cave painting theme, and a theme based on the film’s song “Shine Your Way” (though the attribution of these themes in the film itself is somewhat arbitrary). The song features a bridge that matches the structure and shape of the cave painting theme; both are laden with the poignancy that Silvestri habitually delivers in scores such as Forrest Gump, Contact, Stuart Little, and The Abyss. The family theme is more malleable, often molded into a more lighthearted guise and featuring an opening horn statement drawn right out of Back to the Future III. The major weakness of the score is that, until the third act, Silvestri barely uses any of these themes, opting for the cartoony, stop-and-go type of music that Randy Newman, the old scoundrel, is so inveterately fond of.

13. Star Trek Into Darkness (Michael Giacchino)
Giacchino’s score reflects the wall-to-wall action in the film and, to be truthful, the composer has written better action music. But he has set such a high standard for himself that one can forgive him for writing something less than sublime. His anthemic main theme is fully established now, and he pushes Spock’s yearning theme into darker corners. The Klingons are treated to vigorous choral blasts in “The Kronos Wartet” while John Harrison (one need only read the back of the Blu-ray or DVD to find out his true identity) gets a slithering, percolating winner of a theme.  Unfortunately, the complete “Ode to Harrison” track is not available on the CD. Instead, we get a hideous track called “The Growl” (thankfully not composed by Giacchino) that is a disgrace to electronic music. “Warp Core Values” and “Buying the Space Farm” provide ample doses of pathos, and the frantic “San Fran Hustle” includes the rather infamous fight music from the original TV series composed by Gerald Fried. There are no chances in the film for wonder and awe, which is a shame as I know Giacchino could write grand cues for such moments. But as it is, he delivers a great action score.

12. Now You See Me (Brian Tyler)
Let’s get this score’s weakness out of the way: it’s incredibly repetitive. Yet the prolific Tyler composes an invigorating, stylish main theme that’s more magical than the rather flat movie it accompanies. Churning low strings, a catchy ostinato in higher strings, economic use of electric guitar, a mystically yearning melody, and top-notch drum-kit work performed by Tyler himself combine to create an irresistible theme. Some of the action tracks, like “Battle of the Cards” and “Bridge Pursuit,” do feature more varied work, highlighting more of the composer’s impressive percussion writing and performance. If you don’t like the main theme, you won’t like the score. But I did. (Sorry, no pithy comment).

11. Epic (Danny Elfman)
The opening track, “Leafmen,” recalls some of Elfman’s more sprightly work on Charlotte’s Web and Black Beauty. An acoustic guitar backs a patented Elfman jig before introducing the main theme. The strengths of this score are the beautiful, ethereal moments found in cues like “Tara’s Chamber,” “Tara’s Gift,” and “False Start” as well as the thrilling action of “Pursuit,” “Escape,” and “Epic Final Confrontation.” Elfman uses choir better than probably any other Hollywood film composer alive, and choral passages are liberally strewn throughout the score. There’s nothing as striking as Alice in Wonderland or Edward Scissorhands, but there’s still much to feast on. As expected, Elfman puts his theme through the wringer, playing it in various settings to reflect different moods and developments in the story (I assume; I haven’t seen the film and don’t plan to). My appreciation for Elfman continues to grow after every score of his I hear; even if a score isn’t a divine masterpiece, it always has moments of quality.