CD Reviews: Identity and People I Know
Identity **
ALAN SILVESTRI
Varèse Sarabande 302 066 459 2
13 tracks - 32:12
When a score doesn't work, the blame is usually put on the composer.
But what if it isn't his fault? What if the director demanded a certain
type of score? Maybe he wanted lackluster, generic wallpaper that wouldn't
get in the way of the rest of the film? Maybe the composer was shackled
by these requirements? Then again, maybe the composer was just going through
the paces, and merely working for a paycheck? These questions, and more,
are bound to enter your mind when you listen to Alan Silvestri's score
to the James Mangold thriller, Identity.
Given that Silvestri is an accomplished and respected composer, one
has to wonder what happened with this particular film. Overall, the music
works within the movie as a tool to raise the level of tension or mystery,
but it does so in a cheap and easy "we have no time or budget" TV show
kind of way.
The action takes place at a secluded motel in Nevada during a horrible
storm, and throws various characters together in an Agatha Christie-type
murder mystery. So why the hand-drums and sitar? "Settling In" has us peeking
over the shoulders of each guest as we learn a few secrets about them,
to the accompaniment of the above mentioned ethnic instruments, plus some
"scorching" LA-studio electric guitar. Despite the laid-back groove, it
just sounds dated. So much so, that it even has that delayed guitar sound
in the mix, reminiscent of U2's "The Joshua Tree." I thought this type
of thing went out back in the early '90s!
Naturally, if you're going to score a film about murders in a motel,
you have to make reference to Herrmann's Psycho. Silvestri fulfills
the obligation with shrieking strings in "Bodies Disappear." And while
there's precious little thematic material, there's plenty of moody effects,
pulsating strings, wild-panning synthesizers and other staples of the thriller
genre. "Prologue" features a whispering string-like loop that mimics a
shuttling tape recorder that's seen in the opening of the film. But listening
to it for two minutes straight, as the simple title music plays over it,
is a bit much. "Orange Grove" is the most cohesive track and features the
same pleasant flute melody from the opening cue, and follows that with
plaintive, swelling strings and horns in another nod to Herrmann (in this
case Vertigo).
Ultimately, it's hard to know where to pin the blame, filmmaker or composer?
Either way, you'll probably want to pass on this one. -- Ian D. Thomas
People I Know ** 1/2
TERENCE BLANCHARD
Decca B0000191-02
16 tracks - 36:13
In its press release for this CD, Decca explains that Al Pacino's character
in People I Know, a celebrity publicist named Eli Wurman, humiliates
himself regularly, "smoothing out the lives of the rich and famous." His
workaholic tendencies also lead him into big trouble and danger. Does this
scenario sound a little familiar?
Tony Curtis played a similarly wormy role in Sweet Smell of Success,
back in 1957. In fact, the earlier film's influence can be felt throughout
this new picture, from its high-contrast lighting and noirish themes to
its seedy settings and jazzy soundtrack.
Unfortunately, Terence Blanchard's music for People I Know lacks
passion and it steers clear of the smoke and romance and sleaze that made
Elmer Bernstein's score for Success so memorable and fun. Conservative
and restrained, that is, the younger composer's overly cerebral arrangement
of lolling strings and dangling jazz rifts crawls more than it kicks. Granted,
there are moments of beauty -- the vocal harmonies in "Going to Elliot's,"
for instance, and the trumpet theme in "Vicci's Park View" -- but they
disappear quickly.
The album starts and ends well. The first track, a cover of Dixon and
Henderson's "Bye Bye Blackbird," features Jon Hendricks, a "vocalese" singer
who scats and croons as a tight band bangs out hot notes behind him. And
the last track, Rickie Lee Jones' version of the same tune, is just as
charming, with Jones chewing up the lyrics like bubble gum as John Leftwich's
bass trades blows with Joe Henderson's saxophone.
It's never good when the non-score songs on a soundtrack album outshine
the score. Yet to label Blanchard's music as completely mediocre would
be unfair. Though it's not exiting, it's not unpleasant either. It just
fares poorly when it appears between a pair of masterpieces. And what wouldn't?
-- Stephen Armstrong
MailBag@filmscoremonthly.com
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