So Why Film Music?

By Dan Hobgood

I recently participated in a discussion about the art of music in film with a student at the University of Richmond, located in Virginia, who is majoring in music--and who certainly argues that film music offers little artistry compared to classical music. This student suggested--in the aftermath of The Blair Witch Project--that the presence of music in film causes pictures to seem unrealistic and distorted. But what really intrigued me was that she debated that music simply generates emotion in unintelligent viewers that the filmmakers could not muster themselves with their works.

First, following the release of The Sixth Sense, a film that relies so heavily upon its wonderful James Newton Howard score, I wondered how she could claim so broadly in her first comment that music does not heighten the atmosphere of suspense and give credence to dramatic scenes in films. The Blair Witch Project, like The China Syndrome or 12 Angry Men, is such a unique picture. It may not have needed music, but that does not change my impression that The Sixth Sense is a much better film.

Her opinion that music in film creates a sense of distortion also causes me to reflect upon the lessons learned from Billy Wilder's 1945 film The Lost Weekend. Wilder crafted a then-daring story about a delirious man battling with alcoholism. The film, however, received an inappropriate score--both in its tone and with regards to the sparing placement of music. Audiences and critics howled at the finished product, which appeared incredibly melodramatic and insincere. Finally, producer Charles Brackett, who noted the bad reviews for the picture, hired Miklos Rosza to produce a score to be married to the images.

Interpretations of the film immediately changed; Rosza's score greatly illuminated the haunting images presented and Ray Milland's uneasy performance. And when the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences decided upon the Best Picture released that year, it chose to reward The Lost Weekend with that distinction. Rosza, however lost the Oscar for which the Academy nominated him to... Miklos Rosza (How convenient!) for Spellbound (interestingly the most influential score at the time to then teenager Jerry Goldsmith, who decided to become a film composer as a result of its impact on him).

The fact is that what one sees at a film is simply a two-dimensional image projected onto a flat screen. This is, most obviously, unrealistic. Motion pictures are not like live performances of Shakespeare plays in the theater. The music in films actually provides a third dimension to what one sees. The music is not an interpretation of music, as the visual image is indeed a distortion of reality, but is actually, well, music. It seems elementary to address this subject in this way, but has anyone ever seen John Williams' farewell concert as conductor of the Boston Pops in which a scene from Jaws was shown without the music before the composer conducted his score accompanying that same scene? And even when Shakespeare plays have been adapted for the silver screen, as with such plays like Macbeth, Hamlet, and Much Ado About Nothing, scores have been applied to the films for the enhancement of the drama.

But the thought that film music only provides emotional resonance to boring images still needs rebuttal. To the layperson--or even to the average score aficionado--the music heard in the movies becomes noteworthy based solely upon its musical quality and emotional effect. But consider the brilliant Jerry Goldsmith score for the 1986 film Hoosiers. For it, Goldsmith composed a score with a heavy emphasis on electronic effects in the orchestration. One might accuse the legendary composer of having incorporated contemporary effects because of the popularity of synthesizer instruments during that time.

But a closer analysis reveals that Goldsmith did not add these effects (just) because the sound was popular. Nor did the composer include these sounds because the Hungarian State Opera Orchestra could not perform the intense rhythms Goldsmith penned (No matter how bad they performed Lionheart, the orchestra handled King Solomon's Mines and even Rambo III particularly well.).

Goldsmith sought to comment on the narrative themes of the film--the themes of transition and change. "Expect the unexpected," the filmmakers and Goldsmith present through their contributions to cinema. And so while Jerry Goldsmith did a wonderful job of illuminating the images onscreen and creating a greater sense of drama in the film, he also makes very interesting artistic statements in his score for Hoosiers. There is so much more that film composers can do besides create emotional resonance... again I stress can. One might recall Bernard Herrmann scores for Vertigo and for Psycho, in addition to a Goldsmith score such as Hoosiers or Patton -- or so many other scores by a barrage of individuals. Film composers seek to tell stories in the universal, accessible, and relevant language of music.

One might recall examples from their favorite films--and thus perhaps favorite scores--when the composer is summoned to present ideas through his music where dialog cannot do so as well. The scene in First Knight in which Arthur learns of the passion between Queen Guinevere and his knight Lancelot reminds me of this; Arthur enters his chamber to find the two intimately embracing. All one hears during this scene is Jerry Goldsmith's sparse score. The effect is dazzling. The music creates within one greater emotional resonance than would any attempt at conversation--which by the way would be much lengthier and cluttered. That would be an insult to audience intelligence. As it is the viewer receives the image and the Goldsmith score generating the emotion for the scene and explaining musically what dialog could not. The viewer is left to *imagine* what ensued following Arthur's entrance in the chamber after a fade-out to another scene.

Film music is in fact very dynamic. It can function on so many different levels. While many scores may simply add emotional depth to images, the best composers seek penetration into the subject matter and offer to the (intelligent) viewer an insight into the film. A composer can expose the raw nature of the canvas upon which filmmakers paint detail, and thus provide such a versatile interpretation of what is seen. While few recognize the significance of this art form--still one of the most recently developed in musical history, there is little doubt that, in time, many more will begin to understand and appreciate more fully its merit.

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