Total Recall CD Review

by Jeff Bond

JERRY GOLDSMITH

Varese Sarabande Records 302 066 197 2.

27 tracks - 73:58

Just as 1979's Alien was the climax of the avant garde writing Goldsmith had been developing throughout the late '60s and on through the '70s, 1990's Total Recall was the finale of the densely layered, heavy-duty action writing the composer had fashioned during the '70s and '80s. While he's often professed to have little interest in writing it, Goldsmith has always excelled at creating dynamic, propulsive action music, and Total Recall found the composer honing this gift to perfection. The score marked a perfect marriage between the perverse, European Cineaste-cum-exploitation sensibilities of director Paul Verhoeven and Goldsmith's abundant talents for the musical language of ambiguity, violence and mystery.

Goldsmith's mantra has always been that his scores represent his "emotional reaction" to a film, implying that he takes a somewhat instinctive approach to his work, but one of the reasons his science fiction scores have been some of the greatest in the genre is that his music reflects not just emotional input, but a keen intelligence, imagination, and a willingness to experiment that is perfectly appropriate to the genre. While his Total Recall score may ultimately emphasize action over character, there are enormously subtle touches applied to the work that give this score an added dimension and longevity.

Verhoeven's movie, which starred Arnold Schwarzenegger as a man who takes an injected "mental vacation" only to discover that he seemingly has a hidden identity as a spy from a colony on Mars, was a monster hit, but Goldsmith himself didn't reap the benefit of the film's PR and box office bonanza. Despite creating one of his most elaborate orchestral scores, Goldsmith found his work buried under machine gun fire and unappreciated by audiences and critics. He vowed never to score another action movie and kept his promise for a number of years afterward, concentrating on smaller dramas and comedies. Since then the Total Recall score has gone on to become a treasured gem among a certain demographic of movie soundtrack collectors and a touchstone in the world of the temp track, influencing the sounds of countless action movie scores throughout the '90s. But at the same time the score is often dismissed by some as a colorless action extravaganza whose only distinguishing characteristic is its own opening temp track similarity to Basil Poledouris' Conan the Barbarian.

Varese Sarabande's original soundtrack album consisted of 42 minutes of the film's best action material and a couple of more reflective moments to break the album up. As such it was a rousing listen and one of the best action movie soundtracks ever put together, but there were still numerous exciting cues from the movie left off the original soundtrack album. Now Varese's Robert Townson has revisited the work and restored almost the entire score to a new expanded album. The fact that Goldsmith (who is notably stingy about how much of his music he prefers to hear on a soundtrack album) approved of virtually every note of this score being put on CD is an indication of the high regard with which he himself holds this score, and the finished product proves that this confidence is well-placed.

Goldsmith's pulsating title music (driven by a cracking percussion strike that sounds like a drum machine but is actually an acoustic whip) is deceptively simple, combining the vaulting, omnipotent-sounding horn theme everyone associates with Conan with a somewhat subdued primary melody played over the cue's rhythmic forces by strings. The powerful horn theme itself forms much of the rhythmic motifs employed later in the score, and Goldsmith begins this practice within the title cue when the credit sequence transitions to a scene on the surface of Mars, bringing the credit sequence to a close in a dynamic flourish. The other major component of the score, the percolating 8-note "dream" motif, appears in a sublimated guise in the credit music as a rhythmic element. Often played electronically, the motif is first used to introduce the Rekall offices in "First Meeting" and thereafter underscores Quaid's brainwashing "vacation" procedure, and recurs at key moments to reinforce the idea that everything we're seeing might be part of the character's recreational delusion. That Goldsmith is able to construct virtually the entire 70+ minute score with all its complexity and dynamism from the material in this two-minute cue is a small miracle and a hallmark of the composer's stylistic approach.

While the original album included "First Meeting," Goldsmith's scoring of Quaid's initial programming ("Secret Agent") and his violent reaction ("The Implant") are heard here for the first time. "The Implant" is particularly exciting as it moves from the dreamy electronica of Quaid's passing into unconsciousness (with a fluttering electronic statement that reads almost as mechanistic laughter as Quaid goes under) to a growing, uneasy suspense and finally agitated action music that works as a modernization of Goldsmith's highly rhythmic, Bartok-like action music for strings in Logan's Run. After a brief interlude ("Aftermath") Quaid returns to his apartment for a reunion with his lovely wife Lori -- who proceeds to try and kill him ("For Old Time's Sake"). Here the heavy accents of Goldsmith's action writing for the score intrude with stabbings from electronics in counterpart and an ugly statement from muted horn as Lori comes after Quaid with a knife. Introduced here is Goldsmith's brutal, descending five-note theme for pursuing henchman Richter (Michael Ironside), which seems an ugly reflection of the indomitable heroic theme for Quaid, just as Richter himself proves to be a kind of mirror of Quaid's character. As Quaid subdues Lori the electronic "dream" motif makes its first undisguised appearance as Lori reveals to Quaid that his entire identity has been produced by mental conditioning. "Your whole life is just a dream," she explains.

Quaid takes off with Richter in pursuit and the chase cue "Clever Girl" is driven by a five note variation of Quaid's theme, the thundering Richter motif and a "search" motif for pizzicato strings and an electronic "radar ping" effect, all leading to an incredibly propulsive, Prokofiev-like section for plucked and bowed strings, pulsating horns and a chattering trumpet line. "The Johnny Cab," one of the score's most varied and interesting cues, comes just after the furious action highlight "Clever Girl" as Quaid retreats into a public restroom and receives instructions from a mysterious contact. A surprisingly light-sounding, busy introduction for electronics and strings gives way to the percolating "dream" motif and the primary theme, this time played first by the "radar ping" electronic and later by strings as Quaid discovers he has a locating "bug" in his head. Richter's theme continually interrupts as the film cuts back to the pursuing killer, and the score erupts into action briefly as Quaid steps outside to locate a briefcase intended for him, but retrieved by a belligerent older woman. Goldsmith scores their confrontation with light impressionistic textures for strings, capped by a witty statement from piccolo and electronics. As Quaid boards a "Johnny Cab" the score explodes into confusion until Quaid rips the robotic cab driver out of its moorings and takes off in the cab to the tune of a jaunty, odd-metered trumpet solo and a final, angry outburst of Richter's theme.

"Howdy Stranger" sees Goldsmith reinforcing the eerie spectacle of Quaid conversing with himself with glassy electronic textures and a return of the "dream" motif, until Richter's continuing pursuit is scored with bright, percussive tones over a surging bass line. The title theme recurs in a melancholy electronic guise as Quaid learns more about his past from his former self. "Nose Job" is another brief but striking highlight of the score, as a thunking electronic rhythm and an ascending, mechanistic glissando accompany heavy brass grinding away as Quaid pulls the golf-ball-sized bug out of his nose. A reprise of the radar-ping "search" motif occurs before Goldsmith begins a jagged, syncopated rhythm for flute, harp and woodwind and accompanying brass with weird, half-realized string slurs and a final burst of pizzicato rhythms as Quaid makes his escape.

"The Space Station" sketches out the surface of Mars with ringing electronics and the swelling, pseudo-religious organ tones that will later resurface in "The Mutant." Quaid arrives on Mars in "A New Face" -- disguised as an overweight woman. Goldsmith provides another highlight of the score, counterpointing Richter's theme with a tik-tok electronic rhythm and explosions of aleatoric string and woodwind as the henchman sniffs Quaid out, and a mechanistic, frenzied motif for trumpet over crashing orchestral rhythms accompanies the disintegration of Quaid's disguise before a group of stunned guards. Quaid explodes a bomb and the aftermath of its destruction receives a violent response from Goldsmith at the opening of "The Mountain" before the "dream" motif and more of the swelling pre-"Mutant" mysticism underscores views of the vast surface of the red planet.

Two subdued cues ("Identification" and "Lies") precede the film's most distinctive scene as Quaid is forced to question whether his experiences aren't part of a Rekall fantasy in "Where Am I?," scored by Goldsmith with a quietly eerie cue for electronics and strings that recalls some of his work on Freud. The payoff is "Swallow It," a lengthy cue which begins with textures for electronics and piccolo before a crushing brass pyramid underscores Quaid's decision to shoot the messenger and accept his adventure on Mars as real. As armed guards invade Quaid's hotel room and subdue him Quaid's "real-life" wife Lori launches a vicious assault on the hero to the tune of an equally spirited musical assault from Goldsmith. After a relatively quiet intervening passage another brass pyramid erupts as Quaid's contact Melina (Rachel Ticotin) intercepts the guards transporting him and engages in hand-to-hand combat with Lori, with Goldsmith providing slamming, rhythmic fight music for the battle. The "dream" theme recurs again as Lori begs for her life until Quaid "divorces" her with a bullet through the head.

"The Big Jump" is perhaps the most linear action cue on the album, with the "dream" motif forming the backbone of over four minutes of kinetic, propulsive ostinatos. "Without Air" uses hollow, swelling textures for electronics, orchestra and an intervening bell to signify the suffocation of the Mars underground at the hands of the film's chief villain, Governor Cohagen (Ronny Cox). "Remembering" conjures up the ghosts of an alien civilization with a cryptic electronic motif before Quaid "remembers" his love affair with Melina (the versatility of Goldsmith's primary theme shows through here as it essentially becomes the picture's love theme). The revelation that one of the party is a mutant receives a spooky, impressionistic treatment for electronics, flute and strings that calls to mind some of Goldsmith's atmospheric moments in Alien.

The secrets of the Martian underground are revealed in "The Mutant" as Quaid mind-melds with a psychic resistance leader and gains the vision of a buried generator that could terraform the planet, and Goldsmith's scoring here is a signature piece of sci fi sense of wonder music. Another spectacular action cue, "The Massacre" occurs immediately afterward as Cohagen's troops invade the underground's hideout. Here Goldsmith shows his ability to mix full-throated action with drama as distinctive rhythms from piano and brass hammer away while an anguished string line points up the desperate situation of the underground movement. The misleadingly innocuous "dream" motif recurs at the opening of "Friends" as Quaid discovers his true identity as one of Cohagen's henchmen, and Cohagen explains to the captured Quaid and Melina exactly how he plans to reprogram their minds. A straining treatment of the Quaid-oriented action motif sounds as Quaid and Melina struggle before being locked into the Rekall chairs, and "The Treatment" ensues with knitting strings, throbbing brass and a wild, whirling flute line before Quaid rips his way out of the machine and the primary "love" theme accompanies his and Melina's escape. Goldsmith reprises some of his earlier action material from "Clever Girl" and revisits his Richter theme as Cohagen and Richter discuss their options. An explosion of percussion, brass and strings strikes as Cohagen knocks over a goldfish bowl in anger and Verhoeven cuts from the suffocating fish to the oxygen-starved resistance leaders, after which Goldsmith launches a complex fugue for strings, eventually unleashing the entire orchestra as a percussion instrument as Quaid faces a vengeful Cohagen agent who's commandeered a drilling machine.

Goldsmith foreshadows the film's ending at the opening of "The Hologram" (oddly spelled "Hollowgram" on the CD back) when Quaid sights the cavernous interior of the alien power generator. Rather than treating this awesome sight with the pseudo-religious mystery of "The Mutant," Goldsmith introduces a warm and reflective theme that will surface at the end of the film in "A New Life," indicating that the answers to both Quaid's and the underground's dilemma will be found here. A ticking suspense motif begins as Quaid and Melina play cat and mouse with Cohagen's guards and eventually finish them off with the aid of Quaid's hologram device. "End of a Dream" begins as Cohagen shoots Melina, blasting open a hole into the low pressure Martian surface. Metallic percussion and low piano and string ostinatos begin as Quaid struggles to activate the alien reactor, and Goldsmith ignites the action with a surging, violent, arpeggio-based ostinato that is an offshoot of the "dream" motif. Only half-used in the film (it cuts out as soon as Quaid succeeds in arming the reactor), this is one of Goldsmith's most sustained and spectacular action cues, comparing favorably to the relentless, snare-driven power of his climactic "Retreat" cue from The Blue Max. The film wraps up with "A New Life," with a hopeful reflection on a new, air-filled atmosphere on Mars and a broad, powerful finale that is cleverly interrupted just for a moment by the electronic "dream" motif as Quaid wonders whether his entire adventure hasn't after all been a fantasy.

Included as a bonus is Goldsmith's cleverly banal advertising music for the Rekall Corporation, with its wonderfully double-edged slogan "For the memory of a lifetime: Rekall, Rekall, Rekall" -- it's as slickly maddening as any antacid jingle.

Since Total Recall Goldsmith has noticeably streamlined his style, and it may not be overstating it to say that the score rates as one of the last Goldsmith efforts which can truly stand up to a 70-minute plus presentation. Until Total Recall Goldsmith seemed to add a lot of detail and thought to his scores seemingly for his own interest, and the sublimation of his Total Recall music to a sound mix that emphasized machine guns seemed to force him to focus on just getting what he knew would be audible and effective into his scores and leaving the rest in his own head. In the past decade Goldsmith has continued to write enjoyable and effective scores and his recent reteaming with Verhoeven on Hollow Man shows that he can still sink his teeth into action material with relish. But Total Recall remains a signpost in the continuing development of Goldsmith's style -- in terms of pure ferocity and rhythmic drive it stands as the apex of the composer's action oeuvre, a malevolently focused and overpowering work. The new Varese CD finally reveals the architecture behind the spectacular action cues that dominated their earlier release and will provide fans of the work with 74 minutes of pure fascination. -- Jeff Bond

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