Defining a Good Score

By Dan Hobgood

As we push towards the end of the year and what some people seem to think is the last year of the millennium (If the year 2000 is the first year of the new millennium, should the first day not be January 0?), a lot of "Best" lists have been surfacing. Who's the man of the millennium? What was the defining moment of the last century? How will history assess this era? And so on....

I just visited a film score appreciation site on the Internet that posted the results of a poll conducted in which the site readers chose the best 100 scores of the first century of film. I am sure that no one will be surprised that the best score of all time is Star Wars, but perhaps it will surprise even the most biased John Williams fans that the most popular four scores were all composed by "Johnny Boy." But--I wonder--why is Star Wars worthy of such praise? Now, I am not Mr. Williams's greatest fan by any means, but Star Wars is not nearly as exceptional as Williams's brother work that year--Close Encounters of the Third Kind, far more deserving of that year's Oscar. So what are the reasons why these site readers chose to bestow such an honor upon this score?

Why Star Wars receives such high accolades from the average film music listener is surely because the score makes for a rewarding album above all else. Saying that a score is durable on its own would be a compliment to any score, but if it were only so that film music is crafted for that sole purpose. Is Close Encounters or Empire of the Sun (one of my favorite Williams scores) lesser than Star Wars because the latter sounds better when divorced from the film? What if these others function just as well--or better--than Star Wars as part of the film? I think that answering these questions could be embarrassing, so it is just as well at this point to suggest that we need to find more substantial ways to evaluate and praise the scores we hear. And we need to analyze film music as it is--film music. These art works are film scores, not film concert hall music. If the music holds its own in a soundtrack album, wonderful! But if not--and the music functions well within the context of the film, it should be remembered that that film score should be praised...while perhaps the album--if there is one...and maybe there should not be--can be held in lesser regard.

So we need to analyze scores adequately. Where is the best place to start? That place most reasonably seems to be with the appropriateness of the music considering the needs of the film. How does the music function in the film? Is it objective--does it tell the story--and focus on the audience needs? Or is the music subjective--revealing a perspective that the film narration does not? Does it function objectively and subjectively? If so, can and should the music do both back and forth? Is there too much music?...too little? Did the composer and film editors effectively spot the film, placing music where music deserved to be? With these questions and others that logically follow, consider the appropriateness of John Williams' popular score. Does the music in Star Wars always benefit the drama when it appears? Is it ever too much? Is John Williams' "leitmotif" approach an effective way of interpreting George Lucas' galaxy musically? Does that style of film scoring help the narrative?...the audience? How? After contemplating the answers to these questions, next consider what the composer tries to state through his music.

Composers, in assembling relevant scores for the pictures they tackle, can present an interesting viewpoint for each assignment on which they work. Bernard Herrmann, as well as anyone ever did, provided this commentary while still appropriately addressing the needs of the films in his scores. In North by Northwest Herrmann described lead Cary Grant in a very intriguing and innovative way; his use of Spanish-styled rhythms identified the actor's flamboyance and energy, while also flexibly addressing the dramatic intensity of Hitchcock's film. One can probably deduce that John Williams interpreted Star Wars to be a traditional fantasy, despite all of its wondrous effects. What Williams does most effectively in his score is offer developments in his "leitmotifs" throughout the progress of the picture. Luke Skywalker's theme progresses--aside from its bold and brassy introduction in the main title, foreshadowing the eventually-consuming optimism of the film--from its innocent rendition accompanying the character's introduction to rousing blasts accompanying Skywalker's heroism. The score's development mirrors that of the maturation of the character, and helps Lucas as a filmmaker to captivate the audience and involve them in his creative world. But even though John Williams certainly created a score based on his quite logical reaction to Star Wars, does what it has to offer compare at all to Bernard Herrmann's creative twists in North by Northwest?

After considering the appropriateness of the music in a film score, judging its impact on the film, and analyzing what the composer tries to articulate, one should be concerned with how the composer accomplishes compromising these objectives. Does he do it in a manner that is trite or in an exciting and fresh way? Danny Elfman's career-catapulting score to Batman owes much to the masters but nevertheless overflows with his creative flair and youthful energy. And while Williams' score for Star Wars may not be the most creative effort in cinematic history, it definitely contains touches of originality. Arguably one of the most important techniques of film scoring over the past twenty years seems to have emerged thanks to John Williams. Every major film composer over the last generation to a degree has adopted Williams' "End Title" style, personified in Star Wars. This sort of artistic touch does not mean everything to a score, but Star Wars offers more in the way of uniqueness than most give it credit. James Horner, on the other hand, creates more trouble for himself every time he quotes his Wrath of Khan score (I have heard that the repeated parts of Khan themselves may have originated in another score--I have generally avoided Horner scores like the plague, so I would not know.). The Rocketeer, for instance, would have been much more noteworthy if the composer had bothered to compose an entirely new score. We like that Khan music too Mr. Horner, but we liked it best in 1982...or maybe 1984.

Jerry Goldsmith, generally in a noteworthy fashion, devises an appropriate score, articulates the narrative musically, and negotiates both tasks in a creative way. One, often overlooked score Goldsmith has written that testifies to his talent is 1992's Forever Young. The score is entirely serviceable to the picture, and Goldsmith, through delicate and nearly transparent strokes of artistry, identifies and precipitates elements of the narrative very tastefully. I have always loved the composer's main title, subtitled "Test Flight," in which the composer establishes the mood through the tone and rhythm of the music, manipulates his versatile thematic material, and frames a compelling overview of the film. In completing this dramatic overview Goldsmith inserts electronic accompaniment to his orchestra, thus stating that the villain of the film will not be man, but the technological race against time that will ensue over the course of the film for the sake of love in several forms. Goldsmith's touch of brilliance of this kind is no less insightful than his similarly functioning orchestration in Planet of the Apes, foreshadowing that film's stunning finale. Goldsmith's music in Forever Young may not be as bold or interesting on its own right (Steve Miner's film was no Planet of the Apes in how the composer was utilized though.), but he demonstrates his mastery of his practice with this effective work.

So perhaps Planet of the Apes deserves to be known as a better effort than Forever Young, but it should not be because the former is a good score and the latter is not. It should be because the musical quality of Apes exceeds that of Forever Young in one's opinion (I am not one of them, but there are those who are detractors of Goldsmith's 1968 score.). If one finds two scores to be equally effective, insightful, and inventive, and one is more interesting musically then, perhaps, could that particular score be considered "better." But even then it is not entirely fair or accurate to define one as better than the other...except with regards to the potential soundtrack album.

Lastly, I feel it relevant to analyze the "leitmotif" approach to film scoring. Earlier in the article I asked if the Wagnerian style of John Williams' score to Star Wars was appropriate for the film. And I wonder if that method of scoring effectively and contemporarily addresses the needs of motion pictures. In the case of Star Wars, the "leitmotif" concept was acceptable--and very effective. But Star Wars was a very unique film...and really a unique cultural phenomenon. Chances are that, in our lifetimes, we may never observe a film having as much of an impact on society. Everything about Star Wars seemed fresh, all the while it summoned traditional storytelling and legend. As already mentioned, John Williams responded to the observation of this historical homage, and he composed a score appropriately paying homage to the development of the classical film score. Star Wars was a good score, even an excellent score, but was it worthy of being awarded with the distinction it received at the site on the Internet I visited? I am struggling to understand how.

But in general, the "leitmotif" approach does not help a composer to tell a story musically very well. The result is a jumbled variety of themes usually, and the scores serve as complements to the action, rather than presenting ideas of any vital significance and illuminating the narrative. Composers using the "leitmotif" style of scoring rarely produce scores of much coherence. Steiner's score for Mildred Pierce sounds like it must have been composed ages before Miklos Rosza wrote Spellbound, yet both were written in the same year. The former jumps from musical idea to musical idea--and without much relationship between them, if any; the latter is organized around one central melody, meant to summarize the narrative journey of Hitchcock's picture. The result is one of Elmer Bernstein's five favorite scores--a work sounding like it could have been written in recent times, and rightfully rewarded by the Academy with an Oscar statuette. In his work for Spellbound Rosza immediately focuses beyond what can be seen to what ultimately matters in the film while managing to avoid neglecting the moment.

Oppositely, in the "leitmotif" tradition, motifs appear here, and motifs appear there...depending upon whom and/or what is happening onscreen. That, in general, is what the "leitmotif" composer does--tell the viewer what they are already seeing--rather than inform the viewer about that which it is that they cannot. It was so refreshing to hear Maestro Williams' excellent, if minimal offering for Saving Private Ryan last year. The score was so great, and to be so, the album's potential versatility had to suffer. It was pleasing to notice Williams sacrifice like that on a Spielberg project. "Leitmotif" scores tend to produce more popular albums, but are composers willing to sacrifice public recognition and album sales for the sake of art? I am not getting my hopes up.

But with that specific issue aside, it seems clear that film scores--especially the good film scores--deserve to be assessed in a new light. Just because a score does not stand by itself as a musical masterpiece, it should not be dismissed as worthless. No score should be written for the sake of record or compact disc, and any film composer who organizes a score with that priority should be ashamed. The challenge, Jerry Goldsmith reminds us, is to write something musically substantial while producing scores that always serve the needs of the film. It is not impossible to do both...just more difficult--during this era due to Hollywood "suits" more than anything else (I don't believe, and coincidentally neither does a compositional giant like Mr. Goldsmith, that the well of talent has dried up.).

We should answer certain questions before passing judgment on a score. Is the score appropriate for the film? Does it function well? Does the music heighten the emotional impact of the film? How does it benefit the film? What does the composer suggest in his contribution to the picture? How does he do it? Is his form of expression trite or inventive? Is his style of scoring--especially if it is the "leitmotif" style--a proper way to interpret the story? How does the style of scoring contribute to creating a unified body of work? The answers to these and many other possible questions should be sought in reaction to hearing a score. And then there is the question that can be asked, but certainly not right away--is there merit to the music itself when divorced from the film? Is it possible to enjoy the score in a soundtrack release...or even isolated on an audio channel on a DVD? The answers to these two last questions are pertinent, but not nearly as much if the other questions are avoided or dismissed. Especially for the sake of any composers who do push themselves very hard to craft fine works that negotiate the challenges of the art form, scores need to be evaluated with these sorts of questions in mind. For this, I am getting my hopes up.

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