Overview of 2015 Scores Part 3 of 3

Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

10. The Martian(Harry Gregson-Williams)

Gregson-Williams’s finest score to feature both orchestra and electronics in prominent roles, The Martian perfectly portrays Mark Watney’s perseverance and ever-aspirational attitude. In fact, with Damon’s performance focusing on witty, slightly glib one-liners, Gregson-Williams’s score actually does much of the heavy lifting to emphasize both Watney’s dire situation and the unquenchable spark that keeps him going. The simple, sanguine main theme plays well on both electric guitar (“Mars”) and full orchestra (“Emergency Launch”). “Hexadecimals” is the best of the “science montage” cues, propelling Watney’s spirit of innovation with video game-like synths and an energizing build-up. “See You in a Few” and “Fly Like Iron Man” add female and male choir to the mix, joining the orchestra in celebrating the near-miraculous achievements of the film’s characters. In “Crossing Mars,” Gregson-Williams takes the dramatic swells he used in his Narnia scores’ battle cues and stretches them even further, encapsulating the intrepid essence of the score in three-and-a-half minutes. I’ve always liked HGW’s music more than many others do, but I admit that he still surprised me with his spot-on evocation of the film’s spirit through his dexterous blend of synths and symphs.

9. Cinderella (Patrick Doyle)

Lush, opulent, sweeping romantic—such adjectives befit Patrick Doyle’s best scores, and his score for Disney’s live-action remake is certainly one of his best. It suffers a bit from thematic anonymity; in fact, the big moment when Prince Kit sees Cinderella on the dance floor (“Who Is She”) is underscored not by Doyle’s own theme but by his arrangement of the traditional “Lavender Blue” song. To be sure, Doyle does write several themes of his own, but I find their attributions rather fuzzy. A playful theme on tuned mallet percussion (bells or glockenspiel, maybe; I can’t tell) and piano at the end of “A Golden Childhood” forms the basis of “La Polka Militaire;” another theme, richly harmonized and tinged with melancholy, first appears in “The Great Secret” when Agent Peggy Carter dies and again in the final score cue, “Courage and Kindness.”

The one theme of the score that I really like (I think it’s supposed to be the love theme) heralds its brassy arrival in “The Stag,” recurs in flowing, full strings in “You Shall Go,” adds glorious choir in “Who Is She,” and concludes the score amidst regal trumpets and wedding bells in “Courage and Kindness.” It’s a full-blooded, passionate theme in the best Doyle tradition, and I only wish he had used and developed it more. And speaking of tradition, what’s a Doyle score without a waltz (“La Valse de L'Amour” is the best) and rapid-fire ascending and descending arpeggios (“Pumpkin Pursuit”)? Despite the relative paucity of great themes, this score mostly makes up for it with its sumptuous orchestrations and irresistibly idyllic mood.

8. Texas Rising (John Debney and Bruce Broughton)

Two composers—one who’s given more silly comedies than the dramas and epic adventures he’s so clearly suited for, and one who’s underused period—unite their forces for a rollicking, throwback Western score. The galloping, spirited main theme (which sounds just a bit like “She’ll Be Coming Around the Mountain”) starts the “Texas Rising Suite” off with a bang, whistle leading to unabashed brass and thrilling punctuations from the full orchestra. The suite, like the score as a whole, explores a wide range of moods—martial, tender, lighthearted, lyrical, reflective, and triumphant. “Anderson Wakes Rangers” evokes the classic, lively “cowboy riding into town” feel,  “Rangers Run Into Mexican Army” runs the theme through classic Western treatment with gleeful abandon, and “Gettin’ a Whippin’,” as you might guess from the title and genre, delivers banjos and fiddle-like violin intonations.

The ingeniously titled “Santa Ana and Emily Sex in the Bath” (it’s not just any sex—it’s Santa Ana and Emily sex) features romantic explorations from acoustic guitar. (So does “Deaf’s Goodbye to Lupe,” but the name of that cue just doesn’t have the same ring to it.) The two “Battle of San Jacinto” cues charge ahead with brawny action, brimming with complex rhythms, blaring brass fanfares, and judicious use of the main theme. “Emily Rescue” is almost like a modern country instrumental, complete with drum kit and fiddle (or fiddle-ish playing from a violin). Both Debney and Broughton make the most out of the expansive canvas afforded them, penning a score that, if not quite a modern classic, can still stand unashamedly amongst the best of its Western brethren.

7. The Avengers: Age of Ultron (Brian Tyler and Danny Elfman)

I was thoroughly thrilled by Brian Tyler’s scores to Iron Man 3 and Thor: The Dark World, so I was eagerly anticipating this score—at last, some musical continuity in the Marvel Cinematic Universe! Danny Elfman’s sudden entrance caught me by surprise, but he’s one of my favorite composers, so I wasn’t miffed. While I love Tyler’s incorporation of his burly Iron Man theme in “Hulkbuster” and Thor’s majestic theme in “The Battle,” I dearly wish he had done more than just token references. Tyler’s Hulk/Black Widow theme captures the fragile, tentative nature of the two relationships, but his action cues, with the exception of the galvanizing “Rise Together,” fall below the standards of his other Marvel scores.

Thankfully, Elfman more than picks up the slack with some gentle cues for the farm scenes as well as his trademark frenetic yet melodic action—Elfman’s “Inevitability-One Good Eye” even ties Tyler’s Iron Man theme seamlessly into the intensity. Elfman charges Scarlet Witch’s theme with minor-key heroism, never more so than in its impassioned rendition in “Can You Stop This Thing?” But the real superheroic feat of the score is Elfman’s main theme, an utterly monumental tune that incorporates Alan Silvestri’s theme from the first Avengers and inflates it to mammoth proportions. Given a concert treatment in “Heroes” and “New Avengers—Avengers Age of Ultron” (the latter adding chorus), the theme climbs to near-intoxicating levels in the epic “Avengers Unite,” matching the most thrilling, comic book-y shot I’ve seen in a mainstream superhero film. The score is, by its nature, a work of two halves, but they mesh together remarkably well, with Elfman's contributions soaring to empyrean heights. I’m extremely grateful for the improved musical continuity (Silvestri’s Captain America theme gets a couple subtle nods as well), but with one composer with a singular musical vision, this score could have been even better.

(I admit that I didn’t know quite where to rank this score; the Tyler portions probably wouldn’t make my top ten, but the Elfman cues are so outrageously outsized and entertaining that I might rank them as high as #3 or #4.)

6. Inside Out (Michael Giacchino)

Giacchino has established such high standards in his Pixar scores that his superb score for this sublimely moving film still ranks below his other scores for the studio save Cars 2. The score revolves around two primary themes. The first, heard in the opening “Bundle of Joy,” (representing, well, Joy) is a wispy little tune that repeats each of its phrases with minor variations; as Joy is the primary character of the film, this is the theme that recurs most often. It’s pleasant enough but not as emotionally deep as Giacchino’s themes usually are.  Joy’s theme remains upbeat and lightweight through its various iterations, whether played on solo piano in the opening cue or with more colorful instrumentation, as in “Team Building” (though it does receive an action variant in “Rainbow Flyer”).

Fortunately, the theme for Riley’s core memories proves more intriguing, more appealing, and, ultimately, more malleable. It’s introduced in a breezy, almost “travelogue” mode in the title sequence (“Nomanisone Island/National Movers”) before plumbing the depths of poignancy in “Tears of Joy” and the sweeping confidence of the full orchestra in “Joy Turns to Sadness/A Growing Personality.” Giacchino saves this wonderful theme for significant moments in the film so that when we do hear it, it’s all the more cathartic. But Joy’s theme, Sadness’s melodically related motif, Bing Bong’s circus-like theme, a third-act action motif, and an awe-inspiring one-off melody in “Rainbow Flyer” (reprised with celestial organ in “The Joy of Credits”) provide plenty of rich, melodic goodies besides the core memories theme. Giacchino scores the two most touching moments of the film with sparse chords, deciding to stay out of the way; a more dramatic musical approach possibly would have driven the already emotional film dangerously close to cornball territory. Because of this, Inside Out is not as gratifying a listen as The Incredibles, Ratatouille, or Up, but it supports and even augments the film flawlessly.

5. Pan (John Powell)

Pan is a score of moments—that is, individual cues burst with Powell’s signature high-octane, heady electricity, but the score as a whole doesn’t quite hang together. But I enjoy those moments so much that I can partially forgive the lack of cohesion. Many of the early tracks drive me mad because of their abrupt tone shifts; just as they’re getting good, they suddenly stop and make an about-face with a comic musical pratfall—“Mine Escape” and “Nerverbirds” are especially guilty of this crime. Even though the main theme resembles the flying theme from How to Traiin Your Dragon, I still find that particular chord progression invigorating and even inspiring. Peter’s theme is nice—when we actually get to hear the whole thing, which is maybe twice in the whole score (“Floating/Neverland Ahoy!” and “Transfiguration”).

However, the captivating, rhythmic energy of “Kidnapped/Galleon Dog Fight,” the elation of “Inverted Galleon,” and the emotional release of “Transfiguration” provide the “moments” that make this score so addicting. Nowhere in the score is Powell’s energy on more rambunctious display than in “Flying Ship Fight” and “A Boy Who Could Fly.” Rollicking percussion, swashbuckling fanfares, magnificently kinetic renditions of the themes, and near-apocalyptic choir pump the thrills to prodigious levels. Even if these cues pale in comparison to Powell’s work on X-Men: The Last Stand and the How to Train Your Dragon franchise, I’ll take “epic” Powell over cartoony, schizophrenic/ADHD Powell any day. For me, the former outweighs the latter in this score; I’m content to let my mind and ears soar along with the handful of spectacular cues from this score, even if the whole package doesn’t gel together.

4. Kingsman: The Secret Service (Henry Jackman and Matthew Margeson)

I make no apologies for declaring this my fourth favorite score of 2015, just as I make no apologies for declaring the film as my favorite action film of the year. Two ballsy, vigorous themes propel this enthralling score. The primary theme consists of two pairs of three notes each, often followed by a concluding pair of notes. Introduced (on the CD, at least) in “Manners Maketh Man,” the theme works equally well as a vibrant fanfare and as a relentless action ostinato. In fact, in “The Medallion” (actually the first score cue in the film) the theme starts in ostinato form on delicate harp, and then gains energy in strings, which transition the theme to fanfare mode with French horns joining in as the main title appears on screen. The villainous, lisping Valentine’s theme starts out as an electronic tone (like a crappy dial-up connection, to paraphrase the composers), but the actual melody is an audacious, Bond-like melody in which pairs of ascending notes create an overall descending shape—creating a dramatic tension fit for a character full of contradictions. In fact, Valentine’s theme sounds a bit like Jackman’s rejected theme for Magneto from X-Men First Class (before director Matthew Vaughn told him to keep the bass line and chuck the rest).

Anyway, the main theme serves as the nearly omnipresent spine of the tremendously exhilarating action cues, especially in the edge-of-your-seat “Skydiving,” in which electronic beats, churning strings, and whooping brass steadily build momentum, continuously modulating and increasing tempo all the way up to the breathtaking conclusion. Equally impressive is the 16-minute climax, comprising the cues “Calculated Infiltration,” “Out of Options,” “Hand on the Machine,” and “Finale.” As the stakes increase, the music intensifies relentlessly; highlights include a near-elegiac orchestral anthem in “Out of Options” reprised even more dramatically in “Finale” over electric guitar phrases similar to Jackman and Margeson’s work in Kick-Ass 2. The latter track also features a fateful statement of the main theme augmented by wondrous choir. (Can you tell that I really like choir?) And, of course, there’s the cheeky use of Edward Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance to underline a colorfully violent yet tongue-in-cheek scene. There’s nothing particularly complex about this score on a technical level, but there’s just something about Jackman’s better works that captivates me--certainly much more than the music of just about every other Hans Zimmer ex-apprentice save for Mark Mancina, Harry Gregson-Williams, and John Powell.

3. Jupiter Ascending* (Michael Giacchino)

It’s a bit of a shame that the themes in this gargantuan score aren’t utterly splendid, for that’s really the only notable flaw in this work—if the themes had been as good as the ones in, say, Tomorrowland, this would’ve been an outright masterpiece. As it is, we still get an impressive, complex score in which we hear Giacchino’s musical voice at its most unadulterated. Giacchino builds the score around three major themes, though he doesn’t consistently use them all the way through the score. “Jupiter Ascending—1^st Movement” blasts the listener with an assertive, three-note brass motif that crops up in several action cues, most notably “Shadow Chase” and “Commitment.” The serpentine Abrasax theme rears its sinuous head in “The House of Abrasax” before slithering its way though numerous orchestral and choral developments in “The House of Abrasax.” Best and most malleable of all is what I’ll call the main theme, first heard on halting piano in “Jupiter Ascending—3^rd Movement;” in that cue alone the theme burgeons into a sensational variation, complete with raging choir.

The serene cue “The Titus Clipper” patiently develops its almost pastoral melody with limpid orchestrations, but the bulk of the score’s marvels stem from its relentless action music. Before Jupiter Ascending, Giacchino’s best non-jazz action music was in his Medal of Honor scores; here, unfettered by John Williams’s influence, he concocts complicated, intense, full-bore kinetic energy in his own style. Among the shifting rhythms, fanfares, and instrumental pyrotechnics, Giacchino injects shots of choral splendor. A raw boy soprano also features in cues such as “Jupiter Ascending—4^th Movement” and “I Hate My Life,” his unpolished voice adding a ragged, eerie edge to the compositions. “The Shadow Chase” and the climactic “Commitment” are the best of the action cues, incorporating the three major themes amidst the tumultuous action; Giacchino has the choir enter at judicious moments to escalate the spectacle at choice moments rather than just slathering them liberally over everything. The other action cues also boast rousing action, but these two rise above the rest with their thematic strength, allowing the melodies to accentuate the dramatic arc of the music. Although the themes aren’t top-tier Giacchino, a more consistent application of them would have pushed this score over Tomorrowland; the themes inexplicably disappear for long sections in the middle of the score. Giacchino has always been superb at fun, snazzy scores, but he has now fully come into his own in regards to straightforward dramatic action—and it’s an intricate, rip-roaring style that I can’t wait to hear more of.

2. Tomorrowland* (Michael Giacchino)

While this score isn’t as ambitious as Jupiter Ascending, the themes are so bright, so infectious, and so unabashedly optimistic that they would make me grin if I weren’t so outwardly phlegmatic. It’s a little hard to determine what each theme represents; with the exception of the delicate yet emotionally sincere theme for the robot “girl” Athena, each melody serves as a different puzzle piece of the film’s central conceit: the fantastic dimension of Tomorrowland. Such an approach is fitting for a film in which the main characters are trying to locate this utopian realm, putting together various clues in their attempt to reach Tomorrowland (though the film, much like the score’s application of its themes, isn’t that intellectual).

“A Story of the Future” presents snippets of all but one of the major themes: Athena’s theme opens the score followed by a French horn statement of a theme (vaguely reminiscent of the Grail Knight theme from “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade”) often associated with George Clooney’s character Frank Walker. The track closes with what I call the Tomorrowland motif, melodically related to Athena’s theme, its chugging, rhythmic brass underpinning evocative of the scientific wizardry behind Tomorrowland. A longer Tomorrowland theme enters tentatively in “You’ve Piqued My Pin-trist,” an exotic sounding tune that receives its best workout in “Pin-Ultimate Expereince” over an exhilaratingly peppy piano ostinato. The Frank/Indy theme soars with declamatory trumpet fanfares in “Edge of Tomorrowland” and ascends to more formal but no less impressive heights in “What an Eiffel!” (exclamation point not mine). “Electric Dreams” features Athena’s theme stripped away to its poignant essence before the Tomorrowland theme blossoms in its choral apotheosis. The last couple minutes of “Pins of a Feather” contain the most electrifying film music I’ve heard this year, Giacchino using the Frank/Indy theme and the intensifying orchestration to increase the almost unbridled momentum until the cue reaches its final peroration.  The action music isn’t as melodic or rich as it could have been, but this irresistibly buoyant score is yet another feather (or at least the pin of one) in Giacchino’s already extravagantly plumed cap.

1. Star Wars: The Force Awakens* (John Williams)

I wouldn’t call Williams’s new themes instant classics; they certainly took a few listens to grow on me. But right from the “Attack on the Jakku Village,” we know we’re back in that warm, familiar Star Wars universe, even if it would sound more at home in the prequels than in the original trilogy. Rapid-fire brass proclamations, rich strings, and woodwind filigree welcome listeners back to a faraway galaxy. The themes for Finn and Kylo Ren come across as undeveloped—rather befitting the characters, but I doubt Williams could make concert arrangements out of them without considerable embellishment. The “March of the Resistance” isn’t as direct and robust as the Rebel fanfare, but it inspires a sense of punch-the-air heroism, particularly when the Resistance first arrives on Takodana and when they prepare for the assault on the Starkiller base. Williams’s fugal arrangement adds a touch of class to the march; unlike the scrappier Rebel alliance, the Resistance is backed by a Republic that’s been around for a while. Even more stirring in Poe’s underused theme; rippling with brazen valor, this wonderful theme made me perk up my ears and take notice when I first heard the score. Best used in the one-shot scene when Finn watches Poe’s aerial calisthenics, this theme deserves further development and greater prominence in future installments.

Rey’s multilayered theme accentuates the complexity of the character, a depth only hinted at in the rapid-fire-paced film itself. Starting off with a pair of wistful, distinct, and catchy ostinatos, the theme expresses an almost ineffable yearning along with a healthy dose of nascent heroism and just a dash of melancholy. This last emotion is a particular point of interest; we get glimpses in the film of a traumatic event in Rey’s past, but in the present, she forbears from outwardly evincing much sorrow—a complicated trait elegantly expressed in Williams’s graceful theme. I also get a kick out of how Williams’s molds two of the classic themes—he mostly plays the Force theme, Leia’s theme, and the Han/Leia love theme straight, but he tinkers with the Rebel fanfare’s intervals in “The Falcon” and fashions the main theme into an exuberant scherzo in “Scherzo for X-Wings.” And as for “The Jedi Steps and Finale,” I’ll plagiarize a Facebook comment I made: The first 90 seconds are absolutely spine-tingling, “further proof of John Williams’s adroit dramaturgical expertise.” I’d still rank the score below all the other Star Wars scores except Attack of the Clones (Across the Stars and the Coruscant chase are all that score has going for it, honestly, though without those, it would still be a mid-tier Williams score), but that’s only because the others are nearly peerless. I don’t know if this score will make somebody fall in love with film music, but for those who are already film score fans, it offers a luxuriant bounty of riches to savor.

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.

23. The Walk (Alan Silvestri)

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.

Overview of 2014 Scores Part 3 of 3

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10. Mr. Peabody and Sherman (Danny Elfman)

This score is just plain fun, full of adventure, whimsy, and boundless energy. The opening logo music (the first 31 seconds of “Mr. Peabody’s Prologue”) bursts right out of the gate, introducing the buoyant main theme on brass over a giddy flute ostinato; the theme then repeats over a rapid low brass beat, climaxing with flourishes from piccolo and choir. Elfman expertly molds the theme into disparate moods, from whimsical (“The Dog Whistle”) to baleful (“War/Disaster”) to epic (“The Drop Off”) and adventurous (“Reign of Terror”). “The Wedding Exodus” is Elfman’s take on grand, Rosza-esque music that often accompanied the historical epics of Golden Age Hollywood. “Trojan Horse” contains a brief but impressive bit of Latin chanting while “History Mash-Up” features tongue-in-cheek quotes of La Marsellaise and Beethoven’s 5^th Symphony. Another major theme represents Sherman’s relationships with both Mr. Peabody and love-interest Penny. First heard in “Deep Regard,” this enchanting theme soars in the musical set piece “The Flying Machine” and reaches its most mature development in “I’m a Dog Too.” As per the usual for Elfman, the tremendously exciting action music thrills without sounding messy or unfocused. A kind of sister to Elfman’s equally zestful score to Meet the Robinsons, this score far exceeds the rather pallid film it accompanies.

9. Interstellar (Hans Zimmer)

I wouldn’t have believed that a post-1998 Zimmer score would make my top-ten list, but the man has finally impressed me for the first time since Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End. First off, I do think this score has lengthy passages where not much of interest is going on. The themes are very short and simple, and even the best cues rely on repetition. However, there are about 30-45 minutes of music where Zimmer really takes off. The themes are quite affecting, and Zimmer assuages the repetition by adding more sounds, instruments, or musical figures with each successive iteration. I’ve always loved the sound of the pipe organ, and Zimmer isn’t afraid to have it blasting away. A theme introduced in “Cornfield Chase” (and closing the score in “Where We’re Going”) conveys the excitement and mystery of exploration quite well, while the “emotion” theme starts out as a mystical wisp in “Dreaming of the Crash,” developing to almost painful heights in “Stay.” My favorite theme is the inexorable pipe organ-led “danger” theme; “Coward” slowly builds it up, the lowest notes of the organ and blistering piano runs entering as the cue comes to its climax. In the even more overpowering “No Time for Caution,” the organ again starts out before steadily rising blasts explode from synthesizers and the orchestra, choir adding the final overwhelming touch.  I’m sure Zimmer’s sole goal in life is to write scores that I personally like, so I’m more than happy to say that he has achieved it with this score.

8. The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies (Howard Shore)

I’ll say this about The Hobbit scores: Shore’s action music for them has gotten better and better with each installment; the composer has slowly shed the overly measured nature of his action music and learned to let it rip. The themes have never been as strong as those in The Lord of the Rings, but he does introduce a striking one here that gets a concert arrangement at the beginning of “Ironfoot” and a grand treatment in “Battle for the Mountain.” One of the most distinctive themes from the previous entry, the theme for Laketown, gets some rousing variations in “The Gathering of the Clouds.” “Guardians of the Three” features some neat fan-service moments, including the Lothlorien theme, the Evil of the Ring/Sauron theme, the massive chords from the “Galadriel almost loses it” scene from The Fellowship of the Ring, and a surging, triumphant rendition of the Rivendell theme. In a neat bit of thematic attribution, Shore shifts Smaug’s theme to Thorin, portraying his “Dragon-Sickness.” From “The Clouds Burst” to “To the Death” is almost continuous action music—37 minutes’ worth of it. Some moments of respite exist, particularly in “The Darkest Hour” and “The Fallen,” but for the most part, these cues comprise some of the most visceral action music in Shore’s Middle-Earth repertoire. Like the film, the score doesn’t quite have a fulfilling ending or a satisfying link to the beginning of The Lord of the Rings. Yet it entertained me a heck of a lot more than the score to An Unexpected Journey. Kudos to Shore for completing this massive series that in duration exceeds even Wagner’s colossal Ring cycle.

7. Monuments Men (Alexandre Desplat)

Monuments Men features a surprising number of first-rate themes. The opening cue “The Roosevelt Mission” introduces a noble trumpet melody that starts in a subdued manner but suddenly rises to something truly inspiring.  It receives a fuller development in “Normandy.” “Opening Titles” recalls Elmer Bernstein’s optimistic march for The Great Escape, the cheerful primary melody giving way to a spirited bridge (later heard in “The Letter”). One might be mistaken into thinking that this carefree march contains an inherent lightheartedness, but Desplat displays the malleability of his theme with rather touching piano renditions in “Stokes ” and “Jean-Claude Dies.” “I See You Stahl” introduces the antithesis of the title theme: a bold, imperious march with low brass proclamations and churning strings. And Desplat then twists this theme into a light waltz in “Stahl’s Chalet.” Want more? There’s also a delicate love theme, heard in “Champagne” and “Claire & Granger,“ a tune that rises higher before leisurely winding its way back down. “Into Bruges” percolates with muted brass, marimba, and bass clarinet while stirring, Medal of Honor-esque action (especially in the beginning of “Sniper”) threads its way throughout the score—and Medal of Honor-eqsue music (if we’re talking about the Michael Giacchino entries) is never a bad thing. Most of the themes receive fulfilling recapitulations in the impressive “Finale,” the score closing with a perky, whistled version of the title theme in “End Credits.” Although one can hear influences in this score, the overall style is Desplat’s own; the multitude of excellent themes, the clever musical development, and the composer’s always-dexterous orchestrations make this a delightful, outstanding score.

6. Big Hero 6 (Henry Jackman)

This score isn’t quite as good as Jackman’s score to Wreck-It Ralph (which I would now put at number 3 on my “Best of 2012” list) and the themes are pretty simple. Yet Jackman has a knack for making irresistibly attractive music out of simple melodies. For example, the “action” motif (best heard at 4:43-4:53 and 5:24-5:49 in “Big Hero 6”) is compositionally quite rudimentary, yet it thrills me to no end. The appropriately intrepid main theme makes its first full appearance in “Microbots,” bold brass sounding over peppy electronic beats. Rip-roaring statements of this theme bolster the action sequences in the cues “Upgrades,” “The Streets of San Fransokyo,” and “Big Hero 6,” while a pop version drives the toe-tapping “Huggable Detective.” The softer variations of the theme in “Family Reunion” and “I Am Satisfied with My Care” are (like the scenes they accompany) surprisingly poignant. A theme often associated with the robot Baymax first appears in a delicate arrangement 40 seconds into “Inflatable Friend.” It plays alongside the main theme in “The Streets of San Fransokyo,” the action climax “Big Hero 6” and the magnificently ascendant “First Flight.” Jackman’s dramatic instincts make this an impressively structured score; the early cues are fun and perky, almost pop instrumentals. However, the film’s emotional heart becomes more manifest as time goes on, and the score in turn strips away the electronics. As the film reaches its dramatic acme in “I Am Satisfied with My Care,” the music surges with mysticism, wonder, and, eventually, grief. There are some dull passages (like the first three minutes of “Silent Sparrow”), but overall, this invigorating score further substantiates Jackman’s considerable expertise at scoring animated films.

5. Godzilla* (Alexandre Desplat)

After The Golden Compass and Rise of the Guardians, those of us with ears all knew that Desplat could write action music, but this is something else entirely. Godzilla is straight-up brutal, hair-raising action of Elliot Goldenthal-esque proportions. The main theme emerges out of the haze to pound the listener in the track “Godzilla!” but this is admittedly not a score of strong themes. A tender, searching piano melody opens “Back to Janjira,” but such respites are few and far in between. An electronic pulse propels “Muto Hatch” forward until strings explode forth and brass statements reminiscent of original Godzilla composer Akira Ifukube’s work blast out. Voices surge to the forefront in “The Wave” while frenzied strings whirl away. String arpeggios in “Following Godzilla” evoke pleasant memories of Goldenthal’s action music, while dissonant voices tear though the thick swirl of action in “Golden Gate Chaos.” Just when you think there’s going to be another break in “Let Them Fight,” (though the name of the cue should be a giveaway) the fun starts again, and taiko-like drums hammer out a ferocious rhythm. The main theme rears its head in “Last Shot,” and another Goldenthal “trademark,” trilling French horns, makes an appearance. The music comes to a massively triumphant conclusion in “Back to the Ocean,” chimes tolling away under the orchestra’s final peroration. If you’re searching for memorable themes, this score probably isn’t for you, but for those seeking an adrenaline rush via intelligently composed, complex music, this score will serve as a welcome antidote to the mindlessly churning scores that accompany so many of today’s action films.

4. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles* (Brian Tyler)

Like the score to Godzilla, this score is an action-packed thrill ride from start to finish. Tyler’s score does have a rousing main theme cut out of the same cloth he used for the themes to his Marvel scores (Iron Man 3 and Thor: The Dark World). The main theme consists not only of the primary melody, but also a staccato rhythmic motif and a cyclical phrase that starts out enigmatically in “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” before transforming into an ever-escalating action motif. The more subdued tracks (“Adolescent Genetically Altered Shinobi Terrapins,” “Origins,” “Brotherhood,” and “Project Renaissance”) contain some lovely renditions of the main theme and some cooing choral work, but all the other 13 tracks on the album are basically action cues. Luckily for listeners, Tyler provides his most adrenaline-soaked action music since Eagle Eye—and there is indeed a cue entitled “Adrenaline,” complete with impressively intricate trumpet lines. “Rise of the Four” plays like an energizing call to arms, choir and orchestra leading to the staccato action rhythm. The main theme charges forward over an irregular rhythm in “Cowabunga” before transforming into a march. “Shortcut” is probably my favorite of the many action cues; a thrilling passage features phrases being traded off among strings, trumpets, and horns with the main theme building to almost delirious heights. The action reaches its apex in “Splinter vs. Shredder” and “Buck Buck,” chanting choir bursting to the forefront in the former. Although the score is basically monothematic, Tyler breaks down and molds the theme enough to keep it fascinating in all its reiterations. Though this score is not as complex as the score to Godzilla, the writing is still intricate enough to elevate it beyond mere ear candy.

3. The Grand Budapest Hotel* (Alexandre Desplat)

The most striking aspect of this score is its inventiveness; I personally haven’t heard anything quite like it, though it bears some superficial resemblance to the composer’s brief score to Wes Anderson’s previous film, Moonrise Kingdom. The plucked balalaika and casual tone of “Mr. Moustafa” gives the impression that this score is going to sound like the equivalent of Eastern European easy-listening music. But “A Prayer for Madame D” introduces a compelling theme, ripe with mystery and a hint of danger. “Daylight Express to Lutz” presents a vaguely ominous motif as well as some onomatopoeic traveling music. Pipe organ rises to prominence in “J.G. Jopling, Private Inquiry Agent” alongside the now-familiar balalaika  while hand-clapping enlivens “A Dash of Salt (Ludwig’s Theme).” “Escape Concerto” has an almost jazzy beat, and “The Society of Crossed Keys” builds almost perpetually to its conclusion. “Canto at Gabelmeister’s Peak” introduces rich, chanting voices (which become diegetic at one point) before brass, B3 organ, and frenzied balalaika enter to underscore a whimsical sledding sequence. Every element of the score comes together in “A Troops Barracks (Requiem for The Grand Budapest)”; late in the cue, the pipe organ intones a menacing dirge that, after a pregnant pause, turns into a frantic, agitated ostinato. The end credits feature Desplat’s arrangement of the traditional tune “Moonshine,” balalaika giving way to full orchestra, B3 organ, and stentorian male chorus.  But what’s most impressive about this score is that it doesn’t just fit the film; it actually does much of the work in defining its tone. Congratulations to Desplat for composing not only this exceptional score, but four other outstanding ones in 2014 as well.

2. Maleficent* (James Newton Howard)

James Newton Howard doing fantasy is a film score fan’s dream come true, and Maleficent, while not one of the composer’s very best, comes extremely close. The themes don’t quite reach the sublimity of the themes for Lady in the Water, Dinosaur, or The Village, but Howard’s lush writing remains as exquisite as ever. Maleficent’s main theme pops up right under the opening Disney logo (not on the soundtrack), a simple melody that encapsulates the beauty and grandeur of the title character. The sumptuous choir in “Welcome to the Moors” will delight anyone who loves great fantasy music, while “Maleficent Flies” formally introduces the main theme as it soars with the young fairy. A repeating choir phrase that starts at about 2:20 is almost heart wrenching in its pure beauty (and now I’ve gone and built it up too much). Also introduced in this track (at 1:50) is a gorgeous theme for the moors and/or Aurora; it receives a beatific playing in “Aurora and the Fawn,” following an ecstatic build-up for strings and choir. “The Christening” includes a slinking tuba melody, some (effective) electronic percussion, and, most importantly, the theme for Maleficent’s curse. This choir-led theme, consisting of four pairs of notes, builds in volume and intensity with each repetition. The action music, heard in “The Spindle’s Power,” “The Wall Defends Itself,” “Path of Destruction,” “Battle of the Moors,” and the superb “Maleficent Is Captured” gush with Howard’s signature touches, including  vibrant French horn fanfares, surging string phrases, syncopated rhythms, and enormous choir outbursts. Throughout the action cues, the main theme declares itself in robust settings for brass, strings, and choir. Speaking of choir, voices play a large part in this score, and Howard definitely knows how to use  them to evoke mystical splendor. When JNH brings his A-game to fantasy, as he does here, few today can come close to matching him

1. How to Train Your Dragon 2** (John Powell)

The first HTTYD score was Powell’s magnum opus as a composer, featuring a plethora of stellar themes and a consistency that was often lacking in his other solo animation scores. This sequel score lives up to the original, boasting superior choral work, even more themes, and development of some of the original film’s themes. The curtain rises with “Dragon Racing,” opening with a fanfare of the first part of the flying theme before transitioning to the Berk theme, the themes for Hiccup and his friends, and Astrid’s theme, each gaining additional embellishment from when we last heard them in the first film; I especially like the expansion of the Berk theme starting at 3:37. “Together We Map the World” introduces the lilting, waltz-like theme for Hiccup and Toothless’s explorations, while “Toothless Lost” introduces Valka’s theme, with a haunting, hummed variation at 2:12 into the track. “Flying with Mother” adorns the exploration and Valka themes with inventive writing for female choir. “Losing Mom / Meet the Good Alpha” brings in the Alpha motif, a royal tune that sounds like it’s visiting from Basil Poledouris’s score to Conan the Barbarian (specifically, the cure entitled “The Orgy”). The theme for the villainous Drago (AKA “He who can control dragons by chanting the secret, mystical words, 'AAAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!'”), like the character himself, is somewhat generic, the least interesting of the new themes. The exhilarating “Battle of the Bewilderbeast” shares some similarities with “Battling the Green Death” from the first score, but introduces colossal choir to accompany the invigorating statements of the various themes. An absolutely gargantuan buildup at 3:30 leads into a rapturous explosion of the flying theme; I also love the one-off action motif at 5:25. Strident bagpipes keen a relentless motif in “Hiccup Confronts Drago” and lend emotion to “Stoick’s Ship.” “Toothless Found” sees Valka’s theme reach its apotheosis, leading into an astonishing run of brass fanfares, a march variation of Valka’s theme, and a brief but spectacular eruption of the flying theme. Finally, “Two New Alphas” brings this sublime score to its conclusion, the flying theme fittingly ending the score with a euphoric cadence. There aren’t as many standout tracks as in the first score, and the flying theme doesn’t really get a full rendition. I also don’t like the new themes quite as much as most of the themes from the first score. But none of that takes away from the almost unbelievably epic writing, assured classical-inspired compositional complexity, and emotional depth of my favorite score of the year.