Film Score Organization Part Two of Two

Thoughts on Unity and Accessibility in Film Music

By Dan Hobgood

The Responsibility of an Audience

[This last commentary in the three-part Film Score Organization series premiered at Film Score Daily just over a week later. Its original title has not been altered. In it, I tried to tie all of the arguments that I had constructed together while at the same time examining compositional organization in film music from an audience's perspective. I will let the ending of this piece serve as a conclusion to this compilation of essays as a whole.]

At this point, I have examined how a film composer needs to construct scores that are reasonably organized and cogent. Just as the scenes and characters in a picture are not independent of each other, a score should not be comprised of cues that simply fit the mood. Put another way, as a typical picture's plot is introduced at a given film's beginning and then developed throughout, a score should be conceived with a strong sense of unity, thus complementing the drama. Moreover, just as a linear film's plot should not suddenly and/or drastically change at some point (just as Gone with the Wind, for instance, does not turn into a musical or comedy midway through), unrelated musical statements or independent score cues should not appear intermittently during the course of an entire work.

Furthermore, a composer should use melody as the building block by which to speak coherently to an audience. The primary reason music finds its place in films' soundtracks relates to the fact that a score can help make a picture more comprehensible for an audience; music serves as a bridge between a film's viewer and a picture screen missing the sense of a third-dimension. Since this is so, a film composer should custom his music to fit an audience's inherent expectations of what it believes "qualifies" as music. This means that if a scene requires a composer to evoke the emotion of passion or romance, the tone of the music he writes must convey this emotion to his audience. An audience brings with it an understanding of what a romantic situation (an exciting situation, a dangerous situation, etc.) is "supposed to sound like," and a composer has to feed an audience's hunger as it is for the sake of his listener's ability to relate better to the drama before him. As indicated in my last entry, filmgoers have an affinity for melody; employing it is one way by which a composer can make his score relevant to an audience. After all, a composer needs to accommodate the demands of his listener and not vice-versa.

That said, however, an audience does need to bear some of the responsibility during the communicative process and should make a good-faith attempt to understand how a composer works for its benefit. The criticism that watching movies and television makes viewers passive has been looming like a dark cloud over Hollywood for a long time. In addition, the fact that the motion picture and television experience has been reduced to or generalized as watching only fosters criticism to an extent and limits nearly everyone's understanding of what he should be doing during this process. So many people, proportionally speaking, over-rely on their eyes and sense of sight when enjoying movies, yet it is amazing how unsatisfactory absorbing a film would become without the presence of sound and music. Just by turning away from the direction of the visual image, an individual instantly becomes much more sensitive of and reliant upon a film's soundtrack. There is no doubt about it: filmgoers could and should be more actively involved in the motion picture experience -- especially as regards listening.

But then, how should an audience pay attention to the musical score in a film? Far too often, unfortunately, one exclusively notices how much he likes the music in its own right. (I myself have been as guilty of doing this as anyone else.) In my estimation, it is more important to listen instead for how music functions in a film; that is, for how the composer does indeed help his listener to understand a film better. One should ask a question such as, "How does a substantial film composer manipulate his musical means to affect his listener more?" or "How does the music, through its universal language, aid in telling an audience the story?" These inquiries are especially useful in intelligent film music criticism because, while a film composer surely wants to be praised for writing music of high quality and interest, his primary task is (or should be...) to affect and enlighten his audience during the motion picture experience.

Of course, this is not to suggest that a score cannot or should not be praised for its musical significance; rather, it is just to note that a score's merit in the context of a film (in terms of its structure, function, and so forth) needs to carry more weight and should not be neglected in any sort of criticism. It is especially better to assess film music with its dramatic relevance in mind because so many people consider it to be "second or third generation classical music." x (Such listeners do not understand, for one, film music's need to be accessible for an audience's sake, or, two, that the quality of music in and/or originality of a particular film score should only represent a portion of its genius. Film music is arguably the most unique genre of music that exists; fans should acknowledge that and appreciate it accordingly if they do not already.)

One reason I wrote about the lack of significant main titles in November 1999 [in an essay entitled "Where Did the Main Title Go?"] relates to the focus of this topic. For those not particularly familiar with the article, I argued that, in general (leaving room for the exceptions there always are), a film needs a complete musical prelude to help its audience establish a relationship with a picture. (To review, complete simply refers to the degree appropriate or necessary for a given film. Obviously, the famous gun barrel sequence accompanied by Monty Norman's/John Barry's music in the James Bond films has been satisfactory ever since 1963's From Russia with Love. But, with Dr. No, a 1962 audience needed more than just that snippet of "The James Bond Theme" to set the tone for and summarize the drama that followed. So, the word complete should be interpreted on a film-by-film basis.)

Personally, I have always appreciated main titles in my favorite films because, before narrowed dramatic events began to take place, the music (and perhaps the visual image as well) would provide insight into the tone of the film and its story. Main titles allow an ideal opportunity for one to dwell upon the emotions and ideas conveyed in a score -- those emotions and ideas that would abound throughout a given picture. Much as a title would likely indicate the name of a movie and, perhaps, which actors and actresses would be in the film, the music, through its unique language, would summarize the details of the narrative in some way. If listening to an accessible, coherent score, one can usually expect to be introduced to the primary thematic material of the music by the time that the major elements of the story began to unravel. Previously, I discussed the merits of the prelude for Vertigo while taking all of this into consideration; here I will focus on the main title in Roman Polanski's Chinatown.

A brilliant film with a score that is every bit as wonderful, its main title music establishes the film's sultry and intimate, character-oriented mood, the love story at its heart, and the time setting...just to name a few of the marvelous details about it. Composer Jerry Goldsmith does this both by giving his listener an opportunity to become familiar with the beautiful melody that will dominate the score and by arranging it in a way that indicates the type of film Chinatown is. What is particularly impressive about the main title is how Goldsmith begins to suggest the very word Chinatown upon introducing his melodic theme. Since its initial statement coincides with the appearance of the film's name during the credits, the music comes to represent, among other things, a place that-until the film's conclusion-is not even seen!

Perhaps Chinatown's music most significantly provides greater dramatic understanding when Jake learns of the mysterious Katherine's true identity. Jake, a private eye played by Jack Nicholson, has been, during the course of the film, investigating an important public official's death. In the meantime, he has fallen in love with the official's widow, Evelyn (played by Faye Dunaway), who, he finds out in this scene, has a few secrets of her own she has tried to hide. Jake tells Evelyn she has to leave Los Angeles (the place setting for the film) after finding out that Katherine is both Evelyn's sister and daughter and that Katherine's father, Noah Cross (John Huston), a powerful and corrupt Los Angeles official, will do anything to get her back in his custody. Jake tells Evelyn to go to her manservant Kahn's home until he can divert certain powers-that-be that could cause trouble for her and asks her to give him Kahn's address so he can find her. A few moments later, she tells Jake that her servant lives at "1712 Alameda" and asks the former police officer if he knows where that is.xi

The camera zooms in on Jake as he, almost emotionlessly, yet, with just a hint of concern and despair, confirms simply with the word "sure" that he indeed does know how to get there.xii As he answers her and the camera moves toward him, the music subtly rises and the familiar Chinatown theme appears as they part until their rendezvous. Before confirmation from dialogue immediately following the end of the scene, the music indicates that Jake and Evelyn's reunion will take place...in Chinatown. The trumpet (that first plays the melody as Chinatown appears onscreen in the main title) even performs the love theme at this moment of revelation late in the film. Furthermore, the overall tone of this specific performance of the theme is very melancholy, foreshadowing the picture's somber finale.

With Chinatown, one finds a case in which a film composer has done everything he could and should do to unify a score in a way that an audience can understand. Also via this example, one can notice how convenient a musical main title can be, both for a composer and for his audience. Before narrowed dramatic events begin to take place, music can indicate what the essential tone/message of a particular film is. Additionally, a main title allows an ideal opportunity for one to dwell upon the emotions and ideas conveyed in a score -- those emotions and ideas that would abound throughout a given picture. Much as a title would likely indicate the name of a movie and, perhaps, which actors and actresses would be in the film, the music, through its unique language, can summarize the details of the narrative in some way. For reasons such as those just mentioned, Goldsmith has always liked being able to compose main titles. Simply put, a main title presents a composer with an ideal opportunity to express himself accessibly and "summarize what a picture is all about," thus affording listeners an excellent chance to become aware of a picture's music and contemplate it before other elements of production begin to dominate the stage.xiii

Additionally in regard to the subject at hand, I should note that it is by no means necessary for one to walk out of a theater able to hum a film's music. I, for one, cannot recall remembering melodies from what I would define as exceptional scores beyond a day after hearing them. In order for me to commit the specifics of a score's musical gestures to memory, I have to hear the work again in some form or another. For example, as dominant as the melody is in David Newman's score for Galaxy Quest, I could not hum it at will until after I had seen that movie twice.

But, one last time, the really important thing for a listener to try to recognize and remember is the way in which a score's music functions to help him understand a film better (as with Goldsmith's scores for Hoosiers or Chinatown). An individual should listen for something such as a score's unity and the variation upon it; in other words, to hear if and/or how a composer complements a linear narrative and a film's characters' corporate interaction with each other and with conflict. In the case that a film composer has done this well, one can gain a (greater) sense of a picture's direction and the development of its characters and story, among other things. While not suggesting that it is inappropriate for a person to consider how much he likes the music's quality in a given score, I am asserting that he should be more concerned with comprehending the ways in which a score's tone, spotting, rhythm, etc. affect his interpretation and appreciation of a film overall.

Yes, one's effectiveness in fulfilling his duty as an audience member mostly depends upon a composer's ability to meet the demands presented to him in scoring a picture. Nevertheless, one ought to be receptive as a member of a film composer's audience. Being adequately and appropriately so, a listener can be aware of an astute composer's efforts to make a picture better and more comprehensible through his musical contribution.

x Mauceri, John. Music for the Movies-The Hollywood Sound. Produced by Margaret Smilow in association with the British Broadcasting Corporation. 1995.
xi Chinatown. Directed by Roman Polanski. Performances by Jack Nicholson, Faye Dunaway, and John Huston. Paramount Pictures. 1974.
xii Ibid.
xiii Goldsmith, Jerry. Commentary on the isolated music score audio track included in the special edition DVD presentation of Hollow Man. Columbia Pictures, 2001.
 
 

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