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.
Read Part 2 here.
Read Part 3 here.
