And Now For Something Completely Different... 1998 in Review
by Doug Adams
Never let it be said that the film critic is a pessimistic creature.
We were barely into the waning days of December when knee-jerk nostalgia
had several major critics already declaring 1998 the finest year for films
in the '90s. That may very well be the case, but I think they're jumping
the gun a little bit. Don't get me wrong, there were some great movies
out this year, but I'd wager that critics are responding more to the pleasant
surprises afforded by the year. Bill Comden, Sam Raimi, Jim Carrey, Gary
Ross: who'd have guess that Oscar's darlings would come so out of left
field? The majority of this year's high profile film music, however, came
from familiar faces. So, maybe it's that sense of dogged reliability (or
perhaps cynicism) that's left me with the impression that 1998 wasn't such
a hot year for film music. That's not a prognostication of gloom and doom--I'm
really excited about a number of upcoming 1999 scores--it's just that so
many scores this year were new wine poured into old bottles. They succeeded
and failed in the same patterns that their predecessors succeeded and failed.
While scores like Mulan, Saving Private Ryan, and The Horse Whisperer
all featured rock-solid composing and spotting, none really had that
gonzo sense of What The Heck Is This?-style innovation. That's not to say
that gonzo is always the way to go, but this year, it certainly helped
one to distinguish oneself.
Just like last year, I'm trying to avoid a Best of the Year list. Instead,
I'd like to look at the scores that, to my sensibilities, were most successful
at trying something out of the ordinary. It's a retrospective with one
eye towards the future. So without much further ado...
Bulworth by Ennio Morricone
This is admittedly the black sheep here in that much of the score's
innovation didn't originate with Morricone. Those of you only familiar
with this score via the CD should realize that it was a different beast
in the film. Only about ten percent of the score was used, and the sections
that were used were often layered over with hip-hop beats. I don't know
whom we should credit/blame for this decision, but the resulting amalgam
was pretty interesting. I've long felt that modern day composers need to
bury their fears of pop-originated musical devices and here was a score
that, despite its technical maladies, did exactly that. Morricone's literate
Neo-Romantic chorales coupled with urban rhythm tracks proved that there
is fertile ground here for any composer willing to acknowledge that rap
styles and electronic grooves are good for more than the pseudo-terrorization
of WASP audiences. I only wish that this approach had been presented to
Morricone before he wrote the score. I'd love to see what Morricone would
generate in a hip-hop vein. And if this score allows him or another composer
the chance to do something like that down the line, then it certainly deserves
a vote as one of 1998's most innovative.
The Butcher Boy by Elliot Goldenthal
Leave it to the aggressively modernistic Goldenthal to stir the embers
of controversy with this love it/hate it score. I predict that if Goldenthal
ever wins an Oscar, he's going to be as hotly debated a composer as James
Horner is today. And it's no wonder--Goldenthal is the only composer working
on A projects today who consistently and unabashedly incorporates contemporary
devices. If you're in tune with that aesthetic, Goldenthal has the ability
to knock it out of the park. If you're a pure Romantic at heart, his style
can be pretty caustic. On a purely technical level, it's hard to deny that
he's a fabulously accomplished and individualistic composer. I think he's
most effective when he finds a film that can match the scope of his style--not
the other way around. Goldenthal's scores have always been at their most
effective when they're selling us big ideas, and in The Butcher Boy,
he's dishing out a whopper. After all, it's the only score of 1998 which
is framed entirely through the eyes of a brain-fried, hyperactive adolescent
boy. Goldenthal's music shrieks and bubbles its way right under your skin
by matching Francie's manic overreactions beat-for-beat. Part of the reason
the film is so disturbing is that we're not only watching Francie's behavior,
but we're having it filtered through his sensibilities. With a combination
of sugar-rush-pop-traveling-anthems; primitive percussion; hilarious Beethoven,
Schubert, and traditional quotes; and processed electronics, it's the musical
equivalent of a century's worth of art and kitsch culture savagely beating
the stuffing out of each other. It yelps and sobs and over-emotes with
reckless abandon to create the sense of aural/emotional whiplash present
on both the CD and in the film. And in the process, Goldenthal comes up
with more than a fair share of bizarre sounds. When was the last time you
heard dobros, accordions, ambient synth effects, and mutated sax loops
all in the same score? It's a work like none we've ever heard being used
in an unusual way--and I think it's Goldenthal's best work in years.
The Spanish Prisoner by Carter Burwell
Here's the flip side of The Butcher Boy. Burwell's Spanish
Prisoner is a subdued, svelte, and enigmatic effort that oozes charming
menace. The chamber dance band score has traditionally been more of a European
aesthetic, so it's wonderful to see it applied to an American thriller.
This is generally the kind of film in which it sounds like the director
commissioned a score because he was told he had to. And of course, the
music generally ends up sounding like it knows it's not wanted; it apologizes
for its inclusion by lurking around the edges of the sound effects contributing
nothing, just existing as a vestigial preconception. This is precisely
what Burwell's work avoids. It's a score with a strongly cast musical identity--a
kind of dirty little tango--which adds to our perception of the film without
altering it. (Kudos also to writer/director David Mamet for having courage
enough to allow music to color his words.) Burwell's harmonic palette is
stocked with thick jazz chords, stretched eastern intervals and modern
chromaticism, all of which are applied to a cabaret dance band-style ensemble
(accordion, harp, vibes, tuba, bass, percussion) to lend the film's con
game a sense of choreographed grace. Time and time again, Burwell has shown
his talent for encapsulating non-musical ideas in his work. In The Spanish
Prisoner, he not only neatly divines the film's gist, he gives it a unique
sonic world in which to dwell.
Next week we'll cover yet more unique scores of 1998. See you then!
Doug@filmscoremonthly.com
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