CD Reviews: The Wings of a Film (Zimmer) and Hotel Paradiso (Rosenthal)

The Wings of a Film ** 1/2

HANS ZIMMER

Decca 289 467 749-2.

12 tracks - 71:43

Hans Zimmer, like a lot of other film composers, seems to rise and fall on the strength of the material he has to work with. When pushed by movies with some artistic aspirations like The Thin Red Line or Thelma and Louise, or even strong commercial efforts like Gladiator or Backdraft, he can write strong and memorable music. When faced with nonsense like Mission Impossible 2 or Pearl Harbor, the results often reflect the lack of inspiration in the movies themselves. Unlike a lot of film composers, Zimmer's scores sell records, which not only makes a Zimmer compilation viable, but apparently also a Hans Zimmer concert. The one preserved on this CD took place at the Flanders International Film Festival in October of 2000. Zimmer himself seems vaguely embarrassed by the notion of performing his works in front of a crowd, and in an interesting twist on the notion of the guest artist, Zimmer plays keyboard during the performance while the orchestra itself is conducted by Dirk Brosse. Nevertheless, Zimmer himself is shown conducting in a photograph on the back of the CD booklet.

Things start off well enough with Lisa Gerrard performing a more rhythmically-driven take on "Now We Are Free" from Gladiator. Whatever you may think of the score, this song stands out and still hints at the surprising emotional depth of the Gladiator score; it also functions well enough on its own -- not exactly a pop anthem, but a real song. Less accessible from a concert standpoint is the much more programmatic, downbeat "Am I Not Merciful" -- the only concession to the audience is a bit more bombast in the percussion.

A lot of the pieces are surprisingly low-key, indicating some faith on Zimmer's part in the attention-span of his audience; he rarely provides the standard pop concert rim shot ending to remind the listener when to applaud. "Driving" from Driving Miss Daisy holds off on the quirky, bluesy traveling music familiar from the trailers, instead laying down lyrical music for strings, woodwinds, brass and guitar. Thelma and Louise's "Thunderbird" establishes the big desert vibe of the movie with wailing electric guitar and rhythm section, while a moody and elegiac string line builds under rock percussion throughout.

For The Thin Red Line's "Journey to the Line" we get another slowly building dramatic line over ticking percussion, which builds to a glistening transparency reminiscent of Barber's Adagio. This is the music used in Pearl Harbor's trailers, and it's more involving than what Zimmer actually composed for the Michael Bay movie. The slow flamenco-style guitar of Mission Impossible 2's "Nyah and Ethan" remains a windy reminder of that movie's pretensions. Lebo M and Keswa provide vocals for "Leah Halalela" and "Busa" from The Lion King, as well as "Mother Africa" from The Power of One, tunes which show Zimmer's hand at ethnic African riffs. The suite from the comedy Nine Months, however, is standard dramatic writing for strings and woodwinds -- pretty but not particularly distinctive. More familiar is Zimmer's theme for his groundbreaking Rain Man score, which starts out as reflective material for strings, guitar and electronics before picking up the familiar rhythms from the movie -- it's good-natured, uplifting stuff. But for True Romance, Zimmer just recycles Carl Orff's Musica Poetica, famously used in the movie that inspired True Romance, Terence Malick's Badlands. It seems to me that they just play the Orff piece in the movie; the concert piece may represent Zimmer's original attempt to recreate the temp track vibe.

All in all, The Wings of a Film is less bracing than you'd expect, indicating Zimmer's preference for the lyrical and quirky aspects of his work over the pulsing heroics for which he's arguably more famous.  -- Jeff Bond
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Hotel Paradiso / The Comedians ****

LAURENCE ROSENTHAL

Chapter III CH 37504-2

24 tracks - 72:54

Laurence Rosenthal is one of those musicians whose talents have gone frustratingly underappreciated. Rosenthal, like Michael J. Lewis and John Scott, manages to retain a distinctive and accessible musical personality, while at the same time developing an eagle-eyed awareness for dramatic enhancement. Contrast the engagingly Stalling-esque comic-romp stylings of Hotel Paradiso with the more somber strains of The Comedians; Rosenthal is up to the task of varying musical styles, and he pulls both off with great aplomb. This particular album -- one in Chapter III's series of rereleases from the MGM catalog -- could serve as a terrific promotional disc for an underrated composer.

Hotel Paradiso begins with a quirky jig for orchestra, introducing a remarkably flexible motif that he uses to wonderful effect through the remainder of the score. The motif dances through "Friendly Neighbors," a wonderful little cue with woodwind runs enjoyably reminiscent of John Williams' comic-adventure style. Rosenthal is clearly approaching the film (a 1966 farce led by Alec Guinness) with his tongue firmly in his cheek, and the sense of fun remains infectious throughout. Rosenthal isn't breaking new ground -- he's updating the '40s-era cartoon-score style for a '60s slapstick comedy -- but his orchestral effects have enough edge to them that they don't evaporate from your mind as soon as they dance by. The lengthy "Arrivals at the Hotel" features interesting sections that alternate between melancholy lyricism and straight-ahead comedy, with atmospheric breaks here and there. The score unfolds about as you'd expect it to -- the jaunty brass and string effects all gain momentum, leading to the all-stops- pulled-out strains of cues like "Chaos in the Corridor" and "Embarrassing Moments & Happy Surprise" -- but everything is just light enough to keep things interesting.

The tone changes quickly with the "Main Title" of The Comedians, which begins with a series of crystalline tutti hits leading into a chorus reciting what sound like ironic campaign slogans for then-Haitian president "Papa Doc" Duvalier (no doubt courtesy of screenwriter Graham Greene, adapting his novel). Undulating string and woodwind effects open "Madame L'Ambassadrice," setting a more pensive and threatening mood for the remainder of the score. Atmosphere takes precedence over melody with cues like "Port-Au-Prince" and "I Am the Haitian Flag," with plenty of percussion and chime effects used to evoke mid-'60s Haiti. All throughout there is a feel of tenuous exoticism, shot through with undercurrents of darkness; it's an appropriately incisive approach to the film's story. The brief "Arrest at Dawn" churns with bongo rhythms and sharp brass figures, but the tone softens with the sedate strains of "The Blue Guest Room." The pace picks up with the ferocious, Stravinsky-esque attack patterns of "The Tontons Macoute" and "Operation Jones," the percussion effects swirling upwards with the orchestra into a maelstrom of disorienting effects. The album quietly eases into the muted "Departures," bringing the score to a ironically upbeat close.  -- JC

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