Sunday, July 3, 2016

DANCES WITH WOLVES (1990)

In this particular post, I wanted to flip the topic from last time on its head. Whereas before I was exploring the concept of "deep cuts" within a film composer's canon, I now feel inclined to focus on those "big ticket" scores, the titles that catch the attention of general audiences worldwide. Precious few composers in the business attain that notoriety, however briefly, when the spotlight swivels towards them.  Often it's due to the movie itself striking a chord with the public and as a result, the music, and by extension, the soundtrack album charts successfully on Billboard and winds up in the collections of people who don't normally seek out soundtracks. There was 1965's DOCTOR ZHIVAGO by Maurice Jarre, with its waltzing "Lara's Theme" emanating from radios and department stores everywhere.  Elmer Bernstein's brawny theme for THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN raised the bar for all Westerns in 1960 and then accompanied the Marlboro Man on TV commercials, while Ennio Morricone's THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY set an expected new standard for the sound of the genre.  Years later, John Williams' STAR WARS and James Horner's TITANIC albums sold millions. Then there is my target for this post, John Barry's score for 1990's Oscar-winning epic, DANCES WITH WOLVES.

Back in 1990, I owned exactly one soundtrack featuring music by John Barry. It was 1987's THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS, the first of two movies in the James Bond series starring Timothy Dalton. And it was on cassette.  I hadn't yet ventured into tracking down more of Barry's music for 007 or even the other immensely popular scores of his by that time - BORN FREE, SOMEWHERE IN TIME and OUT OF AFRICA.  I was still pinching pennies and selecting purchases very carefully.  I also needed more time to truly plug into Barry, his unique sound and approach.  I think a more mature mindset had to develop, an understanding and appreciation of how he incorporated jazz idioms early on before moving into his more lush, romantic stage.  In THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS, I not only discovered a Bond film that's remained a favorite of mine, but also a fantastic score from Barry brimming with so much variety - three memorable songs, from which he drew melodies for danger, action and romance, a more pop-influenced rhythmic element and gorgeous music for the desert-set sequences.  I'd found my first entry point into the world of John Barry.


DANCES WITH WOLVES became that quintessential, late-era John Barry score, attaining and even overtaking the heights he achieved with OUT OF AFRICA in 1985. Every major review mentioned its impact on the film, audiences everywhere fell in love with it and even radio friendly versions of the main theme hinged to a pop backbeat were produced.  It became the second John Barry soundtrack I purchased. Barry's contribution proved to the absolute soul of the movie. It never simply filled the silence or existed as generic window-dressing. It was specific in its use and had a point of view, qualities evident in music from the very best film composers. The score eloquently speaks for the open land, its indigenous people and for John Dunbar's yearning to belong to something greater than himself. Without feeling overstuffed or haphazard, it's a multi-faceted work showcasing nearly a dozen themes and motifs, while maintaining a clarity of purpose behind each cue. The John Barry sound embarked on the 1960's as quixotic and jazz-tinged, later blossoming in the late 70's into a richer orchestral arena. It is this latter stage which reached its apotheosis in DANCES WITH WOLVES. What remained consistent throughout and what an interested listener can follow is Barry's song-like structure of his cues (verse/chorus/verse), his preferred harmonic and melodic intervals and the subtly bittersweet nature inherent in all his music.

I don't think I wound up seeing the movie itself until early '91, however. It was released in November 1990, during the era when popular movies stuck around in cinemas for months on end, allowing slowpokes to eventually catch it and even return for subsequent screenings. This was how my sister Meri and I went back to watch TERMINATOR 2 and JURASSIC PARK three times each. Nowadays, there exists instead a panicked rush by studios to quickly migrate every movie into homes and streaming networks. I think this simply results in a faster route to each movie becoming completely disposable and forgotten.

Anyway, my senior year in high school was in full swing, chock-a-block with juggling classes alongside the Fall theater production. Of course, I suspect that when compared to today's high school students' stacked agendas, mine was pretty darn paltry, but I digress. My social calendar finally had spiked - dates, party invites, lunch companions - ever since the year before.  I'd silently hoped this would happen throughout those turgid preceding grades. The theater geeks and band nerds welcomed me into their colorful fold.  A number of us had formed a fairly tight circle both in and out of school, our own non-threatening posse of bright-eyed actors, singers and musicians, full of promise and light on angst.  We never gave our respective parents much reason to pause and worry when we gathered together.  No one returned home smelling of booze and cigarettes (that I know of).  Maybe we were all collectively, unknowingly saving up those regretful adventures for college and beyond.

When we all assembled on a Winter day at the movies to see DANCES WITH WOLVES, our group occupied an entire row.  I remember sitting next to Paula. She played trumpet in the marching band and orchestra for our theater productions. The reason I mention this item is due to a scene early in the film when Kevin Costner's character, John Dunbar, is being ferried by covered wagon to his new assignment in the wilderness, that of Fort Sedgwick. The centerpiece of this sequence is an incredible wide shot, pulling back, of the tiny horse-drawn wagon meekly cutting through the middle of a vast valley. As the camera keeps retreating further back, John Barry's underscore continues to soar upwards. It's a unique cue in the score, constructed from a new theme composed only for this sequence and not referred to again. Its led by a vaulting melodic line for the French horns which plays fully several times before climbing an octave and at that moment, I recall both Paula and I sitting forward in our seats, lost in the tune and each playing invisible horns with our fingers. I still mimic playing brass instruments as I listen, when not air-conducting, but back then I wasn't sure whether or not it was strange until I spied Paula doing the same thing.  I didn't feel so odd anymore.  

Several months later, one weekend afternoon, Paula and I were chatting on the phone, the old handheld variety, of course. We'd decided to attend prom together, even though we weren't really dating or romantically involved.  I think it seemed like a natural decision to both of us; we had such easygoing fun together. In addition, there was a tendency in our immediate circle to couple up, possibly for safety and familiarity.  In our case, the friendship wasn't capable of progressing past platonic, though. The fuel that launches a close friendship isn't always the same propellant which can fire up a romance. Maybe unconsciously neither of us wanted it hard enough. So on this particular phone call, she said she had something to share with me and, following a few silent moments, I heard her playing "The John Dunbar Theme" on her trumpet. I was so damn impressed. Here was a girl I was taking to the prom, playing a John Barry-composed theme on her trumpet over the phone for me. I've listened to this score far too many times to count over the years and I can't help but be reminded of this memory each time that solo trumpet opens and closes the album.

Returning to my main topic, when I'm talking soundtracks with most people, often the initial assumption is that my personal favorites align with high profile popular titles, the aforementioned STAR WARS, TITANIC, DOCTOR ZHIVAGO, THE LION KING, etc. As stellar as these scores are (sidebar - even as a major fan of James Horner, I never felt that TITANIC approached his best work), I normally lean towards the "deep cuts", the under appreciated gems. Maybe I could chalk it up to a "too cool for school" mentality, akin to how in a hipster cliques there might be pressure to prefer only bands that no one else has heard of.  Maybe I'm just aiming at unpredictably or showboating my vast movie music knowledge.  Honestly, I can't help what I love (or don't).  And in the case of the very well-known, award-winning, top-selling DANCES WITH WOLVES, I unashamedly list it among my personal favorites.

A dozen more projects for John Barry trailed after this, some quite notable like CHAPLIN (1992), however it was becoming sadly apparent that his distinct musical voice and viewpoint was less in demand, while ironically still sorely needed in film.  I think DANCES WITH WOLVES represents major turning points both within the context of its story and also professionally for its composer. We as the audience witness the turning point of one man's life into significance, juxtaposed against the turning point to diminishment of an entire Native American tribe. Arguably, the film represents the last major highpoint of Barry's career in film scoring. What DANCES WITH WOLVES portrays onscreen, that of the passing of an era and way of life, both by its visuals and observed narratively by the character of John Dunbar, could almost parallel how Barry's musical gifts became hemmed in, dismissed and pushed aside by the progression of a homogenized modernity.