On The Desk IX

You don’t get more classy than Holly Golightly, or more classic a film than Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Blake Edwards’ sassy, comically romantic and ultimately moving film created an icon in Audrey Hepburn and in the process confirmed that the director’s creative partnership with composer Henry Mancini would go on to be one of the most colourful and listenable in Hollywood history. The score for Tiffany’s came a few years before the quintessential Pink Panther scores and in a way put the composer more firmly on the Hollywood map, thanks in no small part to the title song ‘Moon River’ which Manicini composed with Johnny Mercer. Both won Oscars for their work on the swooning little number and the composer took home a second statue for his dramatic score.

I say ‘dramatic’, when really it’s more of a glittering, toe-tapping underscore representative of the period and most of it coming out of Holly’s record player. So the majority of the music on this new ‘50th Anniversary’ release of the music from the film, by Harkit Records, is source music, but what a fabulous selection of ditties it is. The real drama comes from the ‘Moon River’ melody which appears in the opening ‘Choral’ version and Hepburn’s vocal rendition – itself full of sultry emotion. The likes of ‘Something for Cat’ and ‘The Big Blow Out’ make perfect 60s party music – as they did in the film – and the quasi striptease music of ‘Hub Caps and Tail Lights’ raises a smile for sure.

The title track is a romantic, misty-eyed number with light percussion, cool piano and strings, not to mention the ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ choir. Mancini’s trademark swooping strings, brass vibraphone add a touch of 60s glamour. There’s something utterly wonderful about this style of music, so of its time, full of warmth, romance all played out with a wink and smile I expect.

‘Holly’ is another breezy walk in the park, with trumpet, percussion and guitar playing out a lazy melody. Those swooping strings again whisk you up off your feet and carry you away with them, while ‘The Big Heist’ pre-empts the mould that Mancini would turn to for The Pink Panther in a few years time… Priceless.

A final rendition or two of ‘Moon River’, including a very camp ‘Cha Cha’ version brings this glittering little album to a close. I can quite honestly say it’s a bit of a joy and it makes me want to seek out more music of this period… I’ve a load of Williams’ music from similar ‘screwball’ romances, comedies and alike, so I think I’ll dust them off. Time to re-embrace my copy of The Pink Panther as well I think… Kudos to Harkit Records though for making this music available; notes by Randall Larson are, as always, informative and expertly written, while the packaging – replete with faux crystals in the spine casing – is creatively considered.

Now to Silva’s release of Gustavo Santaolalla’s Biutiful, his latest collaboration with visionary director Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu. Following on from the likes of Amores Perros, 21 Grams and Babel, Biutiful stars Javier Bardem as a dying man with a shady past who wishes to redeem himself before death claims him.

Music appears to be of great importance to Inarritu and like their previous films, Santaolalla was involved from an early stage. Indeed for Biutiful the composer researched the styles of music that might work and went so far as to record tracks before the film’s production was complete. According to the director, some 150 tracks were created, not all ending up in the finished film as you’d imagine. In fact some of the early ideas thought to be what they needed, ended up not working at all with the film and a whole different approach was undertaken. As a result the two discs of the soundtrack album represent both the original soundtrack of cues heard in the film, with the second disc (called ‘Almost Biutiful’) carrying a selection of the otherwise worthy pieces that didn’t make it. A nice touch.

The music then, like all of the Inarritu/Santaolalla productions is a diverse collection really, with the composer’s original music – as usual based on guitars and ethnic instrumentation. This composer looks to eastern and African music for some of his inspiration, as well as his latin roots. Some of the early selection isn’t easy listening, the cues being quite stark and imposing, contrasting greatly to later cues of some beauty. The finale of the first disc is a gorgeous rendering of Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G (aka 2 Adagio Assai) performed by Zoltan Kocsis, Ivan Fischer and the Budapest Festival Orhestra; truly ‘Biutiful’.

The second disc, with its ponderous pre-production musings intact offer again a variety of ideas. ‘Seedz’ has an overtly African flavour, while the likes of ‘Maler’ and ‘Davis’ are hypnotic and engaging, the former arranged by Osvaldo Golijov. ‘Tin Can Gitar’ is certainly the most unusual entry, with its oddly entrancing repetitive metallic sound, while ‘Elegaic’ – the closing track - is a piece for piano, reverberating and pensive.

Another Silva album to land on my desk in recent weeks was something of a surprise. ‘The Symphonic Celtic Album’ should probably be called ‘The Symphonic Celtic Film Music Album’ given that that is exactly what it is, bar one track… A gathering then of some of film’s quintessential Celtic musical motifs, some obvious, others spurious… It is though a pleasant listening experience, with Carter Burwell’s Miller’s Crossing opening the selection and Sean O’Riada’s ‘Women of Ireland’, used in Barry Lyndon, one of the truly Celtic offerings. The likes of Horner’s Braveheart and Titanic, Williams’ Far And Away and Burwell’s Rob Roy are the meat of the piece, while two selections from Shore’s Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring are given an Emerald glow thanks to the presence of Enya’s ‘May It Be’ in the first instance and the Celtic-flavour of the Hobbiton music I suppose.

I may be missing something, but Trevor Jones’ The Last of the Mohicans and Newman’s The Shawshank Redemption, are only faintly Celtic in their general hue, while the inclusion of ‘Now We Are Free’ from Gladiator is just filler surely… It was set in Rome, he was a ‘Spaniard’ and… need I go on? Anyway, it’s still a fine piece of music.

Victor Young’s The Quiet Man and Michael Kamen’s Highlander complete the package, though the likes of Jarre’s Ryan’s Daughter might have been a welcome addition, not to mention Horner’s The Devil’s Own. Obviously these things depend very much on what’s in the Silva catalogue to begin with and to be fair to them they haven’t done badly at all with this album. It’s all listenable stuff… Not sure I can forgive the glaring mistake in the sleeve note though, where Howard Shore is credited with Braveheart… Woops. Oh and the album ends with Bill Whelan’s ‘Riverdance’… not in a film, as far as I know? But it’s a cracking piece an anthem if you like to all things Celtic. And why not.

Finally James Horner’s Testament was a welcome release from Film Score Monthly recently and while it’s a short album – just a little over half an hour – it’s worth it. His take on the morbid, but dramatic family tale of life after a nuclear holocaust is quite simply moving and beautifully achieved. With a small ensemble, Horner weaves emotive lines of music for solo, duo and trio, including woodwinds and an imposing French horn. The brief vignettes on the album, plus a couple of pieces by Mozart make for a short but wholly satisfying experience, proving Horner’s ability to move with the simplest of means. This is a must have CD for any Horner collector.

Breakfast at Tiffany’s is available from Harkit Records – www.harkitrecords.com – while both Biutiful and The Symphonic Celtic album are available on CD or to download from www.silvascreenmusic.com. Testament can be found at www.screenarchives.com, along with all the other fine releases from FSM and more besides. As ever.

On The Desk VII

Well here we are again, at the desk and contemplating all things Film Music (and, it goes without saying, More Besides). I’ve had quite an influx this last week or so, passed on from labels, composers, friends and even a few I’ve actually bought myself – which is a rare occurrence these days I can tell you. I still enjoy the rush of buying an album though, particularly if it’s for my collection. This week I filled some gaps in the Horner line-up, so I finally inserted Avatar, The Karate Kid, Jade and 48 Hours in… The Karate Kid, a surprise entry in the composer’s resume last year to be sure, is a great listen actually. I do find James Horner comes out guns blazing when he’s against the clock (many composers do in fact). The album is one of those controversial CD-R releases, made to order so to speak. Do I mind this? Well to be honest I haven’t thought about it along any further line than ‘oh it’s on CD, let me at it!’. I suppose there are some things to consider with the rise of the CD-R album, but I don’t think I have the energy to go into it now. All I know is I’m enjoying the album very much. End of.


48 Hours is an interesting little disc; first time on CD and featuring just about half an hour of Horner’s original score. The film, and score, is as old (or indeed young) as me… So yes it is a little dated here and there, but it represents one of the composer’s really early Hollywood entries (1982 fyi) and shows him in action, non sci-fi/fantasy mode which is seemingly all we know of him from that period. Some subtle electronics linger around the orchestral forces (not massive, but sizeable) and they come together with steel drum (yes, remember that in Commando? It’s the same here, and very similar all round I’d say) creating a rather interesting underscore to the otherwise snappy buddy comedy antics on screen. Horner very much lets the performers (Nolte and Murphy) do their thing and underlines the more serious aspects of the unfolding drama, chases and wotnot. It’s over in a flash of course, but the album goes on with original songs by The BusBoys and one source cue by the brilliant Ira Newborn, who also produced the songs. Good to tick the box though and have the album and it’s a colourful listen when all is said and done.

Last time round I promised The Promise (can one promise a promise?) and so I turn now to Debbie Wiseman’s latest dramatic turn for director Peter Kosminsky. The mini-series has just started on Channel 4 – so catch up if you can – and the composer’s emotional musical underpinning is characteristically on the money. Ebbing and flowing with a well honed sense of drama, Debbie Wiseman’s music is at once even tempered, subtly exotic and always beautiful. The traditional middle eastern instrumentation – including Oud, Kaval, Duduk and Arabic Violin – peppered throughout the cues is well balanced alongside the more usual solo turns from members of the RPO and of course the composer herself on Piano. Following two characters 60 years apart in history, the music is able to straddle both narrative strands allowing Debbie to make even distinctions thematically. There’s a darker hue to some of the flashback moments – ‘The Settlers’ and ‘The Fight’ for example – while the deeper emotion is often found in the cues with the least orchestration. It’s amazing what a solo piano can say… Food for thought and another fine score, plus a very generous album from Silva Screen Records.




Silva also released The Rite by Alex Heffes. Alex is such a great composer, and a jolly nice chap to boot, so it’s always good to hear new things from him. This film, by Swedish director Mikael Håfström stars the oh-so brilliant Anthony Hopkins as an unconventional Catholic Priest who tutors a young seminary at the Vatican’s Exorcism School… Fascinating stuff then, and a robust effort from the composer who opts for largely conventional trains of thought, given the subject matter. There are urgent strings, swathe of chorus, bubbling brass and jolting percussion aplenty, particularly in the exorcism cues themselves. ‘Exorcism of Lucas Part 1’ has a particularly impressive jump-start and builds to a heady fusion of contemporary atmospherics which, when coupled with some snarling brass and eerie choral moments, makes for a textbook gothic horror cue full of shudders. Textbook is often good, particularly when coming from a composer of this calibre and being as we haven’t heard anything like this from him before, it’s not a bad route to take… this is Hollywood after all and as a young, relatively unknown composer, you really need to stay within the parameters of what’s known and accepted by producers, otherwise they might go elsewhere. While Alex has done some great films, this is the first glossy Hollywood entry away from Kevin MacDonald and it’s a great first crack at the big studio nut.

Merry Christmas!?

Has Christmas come early, or is it late? La La Land Records’ release of Home Alone has appeared on my desk, at last. Ok so it’s late, the album was released in time for the movie’s twentieth anniversary (I cannot believe I’m writing that…). The film, produced by the late John Hughes and directed by Chris Columbus, has become a festive family classic and it’s music goes a long way to creating that sense of Christmas cheer, familial warmth and comedic caper. This new pressing from the label is just brilliant, with all of Williams’ cues collected together in film order, not to mention versions of his original songs (‘Somewhere in My Memory’ and ‘Star of Bethlehem’, written with Leslie Bricusse). While the original CBS Records soundtrack album (which is normally on repeat in the house every season) captured the heart of the music created for the film, there are a handful of fresh cues here to enjoy, plus some additional music in the shape of source cues (carol medleys and alternates) to make it worth the purchase, not to mention the fact that the 1990 album is very hard to find nowadays… The big draw for me was the booklet which features some great background to the film’s production and the creation of the score. It seems Williams was never considered – Bruce Broughton was credited in early trailers, but had to abandon the project due to other commitments – and it was only when he was treated to a sneak preview screening at Amblin Entertainment that he himself requested to do the picture, so excited was he by it. After all those years at the top of his game, and his name attached to near enough every Hollywood blockbuster in recent history, it’s no surprise Williams had a canny eye for a surefire hit… which it was.




La La Land are very much championing the music of the great John Morris, having release a number of his works in recent times, indeed the label just announced Clue which is fresh off the bat following their release of the brilliant Haunted Honeymoon. A master of pastiche, Morris provided a full-blown orchestral score for Gene Wilder’s 1986 comedy shocker using the talents of the London Symphony Orchestra no less. Wildly scintillating in places and full of fun in others – the main titles as source music for example in ‘Memory Music/Wolfington Castle – Haunted Honeymoon is a comedy score that takes itself absolutely seriously, though with its tongue firmly in its cheek of course! Jeff Bond’s liner notes are typically informative, making for a fine package all in all. With a composer as talented as Morris and an ensemble as mighty as the LSO you just can’t go wrong. Well done La La Land.

Speechless

Finally I look to The King’s Speech which I’ve finally managed to have a listen to away from the film itself, and what a film. It’s the BAFTAs this coming Sunday night and I’m in no doubt that this film will sweep the board, including a nod for Alexandre Desplat who has yet again delivered a sensitively sparkling dramatic score. There’s charisma here, beauty of course and emotional hues born of subtlety and a lightness of touch we’ve become so accustomed to. While Desplat’s score underlines the majority of the drama, his typically delicate title cue dances around slightly more sombre string passages. Those ‘heavier’ moments (as heavy as Desplat can be when he decorates them so elegantly) lead nicely into the disc’s final selection of Beethoven pieces. Of course the film’s denouement, where His Majesty gives the speech of his life, is underscored by a passage from Beethoven’s 7th which is chock full of tempered emotion it inspired tears by the scene’s end. A fine disc from Decca Records and hopefully an award-winning soundtrack for the composer of the hour.


Next time? Who knows… though I do have a confession to make. I’ve been listening to Henry Jackman’s Gullivers Travels and I’m excited, that’s all I’m saying. More on him next time.

The Promise and The Rite are available from Silva Screen Records now – silvascreenmusic.com – while lalalandrecords.com will take you to all manner of delights, including the Morris scores, Home Alone and their fine releases of Batman Returns and Star Trek V: The Final Frontier…

The LSO: A Life in Film

There really is nothing like hearing the music you love played live. Sitting in front of an orchestra is, at the best of times, a thrill, but sitting in front of the London Symphony Orchestra is something altogether different; it’s an electrifying experience. So it was that I found myself sitting a few metres from the mighty ensemble last night at their home stage in The Barbican, as they performed a full programme of film music to celebrate their long (70 years +) association with the silver screen. From their days working the orchestra pits of the great London film theatres, the LSO has somehow been synonymous with the art of film. The art of film music as we know it, i.e. fully synchronised music scoring, formed part of the orchestra’s roster of ‘jobs’ from the art form’s earliest days and since then they have performed the music of some of the idiom’s biggest names and for some of the box office’s most celebrated successes.

To encapsulate a ‘Life in Film’ is no easy thing, but the show’s producers managed to put together a programme that highlighted a good many critical moments in the orchestra’s filmography. From their earliest performances on the likes of Bliss’ Things to Come and Williams’ first Star Wars adventure, through to the emotive realms of George Fenton’s Shadowlands and James Horner’s Braveheart, the ensemble have continued to work their collective magic and the evening’s programme was littered with evocative, memorable music from their glittering past.

A nice touch was the presence of some of the represented composers, whether in person or on film – courtesy of new interview footage projected above the stage. Patrick Doyle and Trevor Jones – who discussed their careers in a pre-concert talk with presenter Tommy Pearson – were in attendance, with the performances of selections from Jones’ The Dark Crystal and Doyle’s Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire being further highlights. During the on-stage discussion Jones likened working with the LSO to having all his birthdays on one day, and both he and Doyle – who was as wonderfully animated as ever – spoke warmly and with some awe about their regular orchestral collaborators. Another composer in attendance was Philippe Rombi, whose ‘Aria’ from Joyeux Noel proved to be one of the surprising jewel’s of the second half, as was Alexandre Desplat’s specially arranged suite from The Queen. On screen, prior to their own works being performed, were John Williams, James Horner and George Fenton. Williams was of course given the most time and his affection for the orchestra was obvious, while a rather thin-looking Horner – sat in front of a piano – recalled, as many did, the orchestra’s prowess and dexterity. Fenton recalled Richard Attenborough asking him if he’d be able to get the LSO for Shadowlands and he remarked that, while he thought it was a fine idea, he wasn’t sure if they’d want to work with him!

The orchestra performed from genuine orchestrations, which makes a hell of a difference to the listening experience. The intricacies of Williams’ works rang out in all their glory, with the brass and percussion of concert-closer ‘Duel of the Fates’ absolutely knocking the audience’s socks off. So much of the music we hear in concert these days has been arranged by third parties, and that often means there are discrepancies – which perhaps only the truly enlightened fans might notice. But it is testament to this concert’s organisers that the ‘real’ thing, so to speak, was able to be enjoyed. It’s no easy task either, as I’ve been faithfully informed; James Horner is a case in point, for little or no true performable arrangements of his music exist. To hear music from Braveheart played live was a real treat, and while the crucial bagpipe element was absent (replaced by tin whistle), it was worth the effort (and expense) of getting the pages to perform.

Presiding over the orchestra was the indomitable Harry Rabinowitz who, at 93, must be in line for the honour of oldest conductor still working on the podium. While it was lovely to have him conduct, you couldn’t fail to notice that his eye wasn’t always on the ball. After flinging the baton into the front row during the first half, his confidence seemed to give out a little and he often lost his place in the scores, which led him to frantically rifle through pages as the orchestra continued to play. It is perhaps testament to the orchestra's skill and professionalism that they were able to hold it together, with a less-than-dynamic conductor. He is a dear old soul though with an impressive career in music, and indeed film music.

So for me it was a magical evening, and a fine end to a very entertaining afternoon in London, which was kicked off nicely with a matinee of Marc Shaiman’s delightful musical Hairspray - if you haven’t seen it, I urge you to go! Meanwhile there is more live film music to come in London over the next couple of months. This week we have Star Wars – A Musical Journey at the o2 Arena, followed next week by a live performance of Howard Shore’s score for The Fellowship of the Ring (to picture) at the Royal Albert Hall. May 8th sees the annual Filmharmonic gala concert with the RPO, while June 7th sees the LSO back on stage at The Barbican, this time performing an entire programme of music by George Fenton, conducted by the composer.

Long live the LSO!


With thanks to the LSO and Dvora Lewis PR. For more information about the London Symphony Orchestra and to book tickets for ‘The Film & TV Music of George Fenton’ visit www.lso.co.uk

Fighting Horner's Corner

I sometimes think James Horner is one of the great misunderstood. His enduring presence on the scoring stage over the last thirty years – yes, thirty – has seen him go from classical wannabe and B-Movie composer to one of the most recognisable voices, and names, in film music. To some he’s just ‘that guy who scored Titanic’, to others he’s a master of emotional nuance with a well honed perception of the human condition. He may sometimes come across as ever so slightly aloof, shy perhaps, and it’s no secret that he often finds the Hollywood machine faintly tiresome, but there’s no denying his skill and the identity he has crafted for himself. Has he passed the pinnacle of his career? Perhaps. There’s no doubt in my mind that Titanic was the crest of a steadily rising wave – built from the likes of Cocoon, Willow, Jumanji, Braveheart and Apollo 13. That said, his post-Oscar filmography is littered with box office and critical successes. His triumphs with his two Star Trek entries (The Wrath of Khan and The Search for Spock) meant his star was on the rise early and echoes of those scores can still be heard in his work today. But is that something to deride him for? Are we to berate an artist for creating a palette and re-using the same colours, nuances and brush strokes throughout their career? It seems so. Innumerable devices, motifs and rhythmic patterns have followed Horner throughout his career; most notably perhaps is the four-note ‘danger/threat’ motif, heard way back in 1983’s Brainstorm (‘Lilian’s Heart Attack’), through to Willow, The Mask of Zorro, The Perfect Storm and even The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. That latter example – his most recent score – is a fine case in point as even though it is reminiscent of A Beautiful Mind and the aforementioned Brainstorm in places, it remains a really rather captivating work and a perfect supporting tone for the film.

Re-using musical ideas, I think, simply cements a stronger presence and is a well conceived move. Today so much film music is merely wallpaper with little or no identity and I can barely think of a composer who is working in the very connective way that Horner still does. Plenty of legendary composers of the past did similar things; in fact it was the done thing in the early days of film music. With the conveyor belt system of production in the Golden Age, composers would often return to past scores and re-use bits and pieces, themes and motifs. Max Steiner – the man who started it all – is a fine case in point; for example Casablanca features music from The Lost Squadron, while his glorious theme for Now, Voyager is re-used for Bette Davis’ turn three years later as Mildred Pierce. Bernard Herrmann was fond of a three-note motif; made famous in Psycho as the ‘Madness’ motif, it was itself taken from his own ‘Sinfonietta for Strings’ (1935), used two years later in his ‘Moby Dick’ cantata and went on to feature in his score for Taxi Driver, amongst others. John Williams famously quoted the motif in Star Wars, which he was finishing up in the year following Herrmann’s death.

When he’s not re-using his own ideas, he’s often borrowing from other people – so the naysayers like to spout. Hands up, it is true to say that the music of Shostakovich, Prokofiev, Saint-Saens and Khachaturian have each had some bearing on Horner’s work over the years, but what about the presence of Holst in both Zimmer and Williams, not to mention the effect the likes of Herrmann and Nino Rota had on Danny Elfman’s early work. Aaron Zigman does a very fine Thomas Newman every other score, while Newman himself has, on occasion, been inspired by his late father’s work. To come full circle, and to mention a recently released Horner gem, Honey, I Shrunk The Kids sees the composer take Elfman’s lead and looks to Rota for his main theme, Copland for his ‘Rodeo’ style pieces while the appearance of Grusin’s The Goonies in ‘Ant Rodeo’ can surely be put down to temp-love. Speaking of which, anyone ever noticed Williams’ ‘Banning Back Home’ from Hook is strangely similar to Grusin’s ‘Mountain Dance’ from Falling in Love?

So Horner can be forgiven for simply continuing a trend which has been, and always will be, apparent in film music. While he’s scored some stinkers in his time and doesn’t always come up trumps – Windtalkers anyone? – he remains one of the strongest and most recognised voices in film music. The Spiderwick Chronicles showed he’s still got it and indeed all ears will be on James Cameron’s ambitious 3D epic Avatar when it finally graces the screen later this year. With the passing of Maurice Jarre just this week, we are reminded of the longevity of film music royalty. Williams, Morricone and Barry represent the higher echelons, while James Horner is the head of the next generation, so be nice.

Honey, I Shrunk The Kids is available now on limited edition CD from Intrada Records (ISC Vol 94) – www.intrada.com – while The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas is available as a digital download from Walt Disney Records at the usual places, or you can hear it for free by downloading Spotify here in the UK – www.spotify.com/en