THE BLUE MAX (1966) / PATTON (1970)

I'm not sure whether all who serve in the military wind up being fans of military-centric entertainment, but it certainly was the case with my father.   Films such as PATTON, THE BLUE MAX, THE LONGEST DAY, WHERE EAGLES DARE, VON RYAN'S EXPRESS, MIDWAY and TORA! TORA! TORA! all had multiple screenings in our household, even though for a kid they could often seem interminably long and chock full of impenetrable combat strategies.  Later I grew to appreciate these films for my own reasons, along with their associations to my father, and as a marvelous repository of great music.  

 

My dad had been a pilot in the Navy during the late 60's and early 70's, stationed at bases mostly along the East Coast and amazingly enough, was not deployed to Vietnam, though the possibility loomed consistently.  Instead, he flew planes into hurricanes for storm tracking, as crazy as that might seem, with a group called the Hurricane Hunters, and eventually earned the rank of lieutenant commander.   I wish in my youth I had bothered him for tales from that chapter in his life, but I probably assumed there would always be time enough.  

As a kid, I instead would glean a great deal about my parents' respective pasts and inner lives through astute observation.  The books they read, the movies they watched, the jokes they told, items on their shelves and opinions espoused.  From this errata, my imagination constructed their reality.  My father's flight helmet and ceremonial Navy sword, both buried at the back of his closet, were two such focal points for me.  Holding them in my hands planted exciting pictures in my head of my dad darting among the clouds in a single-engine plane.

I learned later that my dad felt any time was the best time to spend in a cockpit.  I think he began missing those days as a pilot the further his life advanced beyond past them.  Perhaps, once my sisters and I had all graduated and moved out, he might have found his way behind the controls of some aircraft again and aloft into the clear blue sky (or even the eye of a hurricane).

Now, my father was just as observant of me as I was of him and it was soon evident the extent of my interest in film music, especially seeing as how my hard earned cash wound up getting spent on the albums.  I ordered movie magazines that included composer interviews and even struck up a pen pal friendship with a fellow in Canada who mailed me rarities on cassette.  Initially content to delve into this hobby on my own, it all eventually thankfully provided a good bridge between he and I.   The music in movies we all watched together could turn into a topic, my dad inquiring on my thoughts and making suggestions of his own.

Two films he had me watch with him specifically for the music were THE BLUE MAX (1966) and PATTON (1970), both war-time centric (World War I and II, respectively) and featuring scores composed by the prolific and crazy talented Jerry Goldsmith.  At that time, my main focus was on the current sci-fi and fantasy genres and the handful of scores by Goldsmith that I owned were his two STAR TREKs, ALIEN and THE SECRET OF NIMH.  War movies of the 60's and 70's were a bit out of my wheelhouse.  I really hadn't yet developed the fascination and appreciation I now have for what existed before I was born.

PATTON is deservedly famous for George C. Scott's lead performance and the film overall, but one notable aspect is that it only features thirty minutes of music across its entire three-hour running time.  My dad asked me to pay attention to the main title, where the character of General George S. Patton is sketched brilliantly and succinctly in musical fashion - trumpets fed through an echoplex device to mirror his belief in reincarnation, a hymnal-type melody heard on pipe organ (my dad loved organ music, by the way) to represent the man's religiosity and finally an ebullient march to elucidate his militarism.   I don't remember what my exact response to my father once the movie wrapped up (I can frustratingly be tight-lipped with my thoughts at times), but I sought out the soundtrack soon after and made sure to crank it up on my stereo.

THE BLUE MAX, starring George Peppard and James Mason, might not be the most well-remembered of World War I flicks from the 1960's, but due to its extensive presentation of flying machines it might be have been closer to my dad's heart than others.  The movie follows a brash, arrogant German pilot charging his way up the ranks and showcases some stellar mid-air sequences, all set to a soaringly gorgeous theme by Goldsmith.  The main theme's melody persistently ascends upward, which matches Peppard's character's single-minded pursuit to win his country's top medal for airmen, truly lifts the listener's spirit into the air.

The soundtrack for THE BLUE MAX proved difficult for me to track down.  I only first ran across a copy during my junior year at UNC Chapel Hill, while scouring their music library.  Several music courses occupied my course load that year, so I often would avail myself of their CD collection, the downside being that students had to remain in the library while listening.  It was thrilling to at last enjoy Goldsmith's score apart from the movie and especially amazing to discover additional music recorded for but never used in their intended sequences.  All I could think of was how much I wanted my dad to hear these brilliant passages and then wonder together how great it would have been had the cues been utilized in the film itself.

In the Summer of 1994, I interned here in Los Angeles and became friends with a trailer editor who held in his collection all the soundtracks I wished to own, including THE BLUE MAX.  During one afternoon at his house, I feverishly made cassette copies of various tracks from these albums, overjoyed not just for my sake but also that I could finally share these with my dad.  Once back in North Carolina to start my senior year, I proudly compiled several mix tapes for him to enjoy, mostly consisting of music by Jerry Goldsmith and Bernard Herrmann.  The opening tracks on the first cassette were from THE BLUE MAX and I truly hope hearing this music helped his own spirit soar skyward.

A complete edition of the score was planned for CD release in 1995.  I recall relaying this news to my father during one of our last conversations, probably during Summer 1994, and how exciting it would be to actually gift him a copy for his album collection.  But he didn't live long enough for me to have the chance.  The closest I could come to this was during the wake, when I discreetly tucked into his casket those mix tapes I made for him just a few months before.   Now, whenever I listen to either PATTON or THE BLUE MAX, the experience becomes my way to feel near to him again, a way that I can imagine my dad and I might be listening together.

STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE (1979) / STAR TREK, Volume Two (1966)

Following the welcoming friend into the STAR TREK universe that was THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK, the next two albums I picked up really became the primary soundtracks underscoring the adventures of my younger sister Meri and me, during that final year we lived in Durham, NC.   Jerry Goldsmith's music for STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE had impressed me early on with its stellar qualities, especially since it is allowed to carry so much of that film.  The other purchase, "STAR TREK: Volume Two" was a re-recording of music from episodes of the original 1960's series.  Four episodes were represented, arranged in lengthy concert suite format and all entirely new to me as I had seen so little of the original series by then. 

As with the STAR TREK III album, there was initial disappointment in what music wasn't included on THE MOTION PICTURE LP.  Even my dad, who I initially thought didn't take notice of such things when I played soundtracks in his presence, noted the absence of certain cues.  On one road trip, as side two of the cassette wrapped up, my dad actually asked where the music was from a major sequence late in the film, a long, fateful walk Kirk and company take towards the film's antagonist.  Oddly enough, I didn't have the heart to tell him it wasn't on this album.  Not wanting him to be disappointed with the listening experience, I simply lied and said it was there.  He replied that he must not have been paying enough attention.  I still find it strange that I did this, but it was my own inability to handle any frustration he might exhibit towards something I presented him. Eventually, the entire score became available recently in a deluxe CD set and it's a listening experience I wished I could have shared with my father.

 

During that last year in Durham, Meri and I spent many fun weekends crafting our own customized corner of the TREK-verse, one populated with new characters taking life in radio-play formats recorded to cassette. My new stereo with dual cassette capability, a marvelous birthday gift from the year prior, allowed us to score our audio adventures with quality film and TV music, along with dialing in sound effects, while our amateur voice work attempted a variety of dialects.  Soon enough, we discovered that retaining within these endeavors the usual laughs and silliness endemic to our time together meant they were that much more fun to revisit later.  Honestly, I hope I didn't prevent Meri from spending more time with her own friends at that age.  These particular memories are amongst my favorites from those handful of middle-school years.

Our series was titled STAR TREK: A NEW SAGA.  Meri and I each played around seven or eight characters, mostly distinguished by terrible Russian accents, terrible Australian accents or terrible British accents, all accompanied by our best head voice and guttural tones.  Naturally, my story ideas often developed based on wanting to use music from my favorite soundtracks.  So for better or worse, the early episodes pretty much restricted themselves to what could be scored with music found on my first three STAR TREK albums.  Weirdly, this translated to stories of a deadly computer virus threatening to control our starship, the Executive, on three separate occasions.  

Jerry Goldsmith's multi-faceted score for STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE features a proud, but not haughty, martial main title, a sonorous love theme and awe-inspiring yet spooky cues coloring the Starship Enterprise's strange journey throughout the latter half of the film.  Alternately, the styles found on the original STAR TREK series album run the gamut from lyrical, gushing string-led cues, to brash and brassy action, quirky instrumentation and dry, percussive music in the mold of an old Western movie.  Woven together, these disparate elements magically imbued our home-made ramshackle adventures with a sense of excitement and importance.

In all, we created around twenty-five episodes, wrapping up the series in 1990 with three 90-minute "movies", after we had moved to Rocky Mount, NC.  Life changed by then, as a new town and new school provided me with a great group of friends and a proper stage on which to scratch my performing itch, through those awfully endearing comedies and musicals high schools always produce.   The bond developed between Meri and I never diminished, however.  We didn't outgrow each other.  The same movies and pop culture items managed to engage us both and there wasn't much I couldn't share with her.

Those final three productions of our STAR TREK series unfortunately are the sole survivors, the other cassettes now misplaced and lost over the course of multiple relocation in the subsequent years. Thankfully, the detail-oriented side of my nerdiness had gleefully, painstakingly and annoyingly typed up a two volume episode guide (dated 6/27/88).  This included story synopsis, character profiles, ship specs and surprisingly caustic reviews.  I held no compunction for tearing down my own work, apparently.  Seen here are the covers I created for each volume, plus a page from the story treatment of the first 90-minute episode.

With luck, one of these days I will digitize those remaining episodes, at least for posterity, if not to share.  While the plots will be found to be contrived and the performances broad, thank goodness the music by Jerry Goldsmith, James Horner and other composing talents really brought the class and polish.

In this day and age, when ever-prevalent mobile technology allows us to record any and all activities, whether mundane or red-letter, the fact that these 25-year old audio efforts still exist I find heartwarming.  They capture and present glimpses of a unique and special time for me and Meri, which otherwise would only exist as memories.  In that day, we kept each other amused and just let our imaginations rule the day.  Plus, she made a damn fine First Officer for a starship!

THE TRANSFORMERS: THE MOVIE (1986)

The Transformers pretty much ruled my life from 1984 until 1988.  I habitually watched and recorded the animated series, bought and read the Marvel comic book series and of course, collected the action figures, eventually topping at around fifty, with an even number of both heroic Autobots and evil Decepticons.  I drew my own versions of the characters on any blank piece of paper within reach and played out serialized, months-long storylines with the figures.  Sadly, while the steel-trap portions of my memory should have been smartly reserved for 8th grade French class, it instead decided to store all names and likenesses of cool transforming robots.  To this very day, I can still pick Grimlock, Perceptor, Megatron and Shockwave out of a line-up.  Vous maudissent, Optimus Prime!

The year following 1983's RETURN OF THE JEDI was still dominated by the STAR WARS universe for me.  Yet in September 1984, I caught the initial three-part mini-series of THE TRANSFORMERS and its combination of science fiction setting, fluid animation, marvelous voice acting, distinct characters and bold orchestral underscore really grabbed my attention and filled that imagination void left by the departure of the STAR WARS films.   I know it confused my parents, as it seemed this was not quite something the whole family could enjoy together.  And before you ask, no, I had no love or interest for the competing series of transforming robots, the Go-bots.  Rentrer à la maison, Go-bots!

I sometimes wondered why I wasn't more of a He-man or G.I. Joe kind of kid, since those brands also dominated the mid-1980's.   I mean, those action figures certainly lived alongside my Transformers, but they didn't quite maintain the same level of fascination for me.  If a quick diagnosis is required, I believe the idea of changing shape appealed to me, especially converting into a machine that could fly.  Flying dreams have long been a mainstay of my sleeping life.  In addition, these living machines were tough, able to withstand more punishment than basic flesh & blood.  In those school days of long hallways, prevalent bullies and bruises accompanying me and my books back home, I know I wished for a sturdy hide of metal and maybe even missile launchers hidden in my wrists.

One of my favorite Transformers-centric childhood memories involves my dad, actually. We were part of a group of fathers and sons gathered together for a weekend camping excursion, probably around Spring 1985. Unfortunately, an endless gray downpour forced us all into our respective cabins.  As sheets of rain pummeled our campsite, my dad, completely and utterly bored, grabbed the first six issues of THE TRANSFORMERS comic book series from my backpack and read them all cover to cover.  I had brought the comic books along with me to revisit during down time on the trip.  I was ecstatic, as it felt like complete validation from him for something that I discovered and really liked.  The next day he even joked with me about it, referring to plot points in one issue, the same way two best friends of the same age would share a laugh and a knowing grin.  His assessment of my hobbies and interests mattered greatly to me, a stamp of approval broadcasting that my time and energy wasn't being wasted.  It's not uncommon that sons often require their father's sanction, sometimes for much of their lives, with luck communicated by a wide, kind smile and warm hand on the shoulder.  It's something I really miss.

In Summer 1986, ads began running for this grand animated adventure, set to premiere that August. Seeing the movie itself in theaters was a special experience, not only because it didn't garner much of a wide release, but mainly because my younger sister Meri was there alongside me.   Giddy and prepped to dive into this theatrical experience, we felt like a sibling version of Butch and Sundance, just with fewer bank robberies and almost no showers of bullets.  It wasn't often that we were deposited at the movies by ourselves in those days, except in Summer 1984 when Meri and I were allowed to see GHOSTBUSTERS, so as to have at least one popular topic of conversation at school that Fall.   I'm pretty sure that it didn't boost my confidence level far past the point where I could even attempt an opening salvo of "Hi, my name is...".

Regardless, my mom, realizing the significance of this particular event to both myself and Meri, ferried us to the mall and we settled in for the trans-formative experience... ahem, sorry about the pun. The movie was positively earth-shaking for us both.  Favorite characters died painfully and dramatically, new ones were introduced without fanfare and the narrative landscape of the series become more complicated.  I still adore it, but admittedly this is a movie that probably only a Transformers fan could love, akin to how only fans of the TV series "Twin Peaks" can truly appreciate the film based on it, FIRE WALK WITH ME.

As for the music, one commercial had specifically mentioned the upcoming soundtrack album and I was overjoyed, mistakenly believing it to showcase the orchestral tracks from the television series, composed by Johnny Douglas and Rob Walsh.  Imagine my surprise when upon sitting in the theater, I was struck by a score so diametrically opposed to what was heard in the television show. This music pulsated and throbbed with electronic grooves, pounding drums, searing guitars, keyboards and a propulsive rock backbeat. And shockingly enough, I immediately dug it.

 

Vince DiCola's varied, thematic instrumental score shared the soundtrack with rock and heavy metal tunes, in a similar style to very popular 80's tunes by "hair metal" bands such as R.A.T.T., Poison and AC/DC. Interestingly enough, my Dad wound up using one of the two more "inspirational" songs in a Y.M.C.A. promotional video that he proudly screened for me. Specifically, this was "Dare", performed by Stan Bush. It was a complete surprise to me, as he never mentioned it beforehand and he must have discreetly borrowed my cassette copy of the soundtrack, knowing that I played it constantly.  To this day, I really have no idea how the use of that song came about. He was the executive director of the Durham, NC Y.M.C.A. and therefore, I assume, could choose any music he wanted for their promos, but it still amazed me that he selected a song from this specific album.  I don't recall if I ever said thanks for that, but if I didn't... well, that means I was a jerk as a teen-ager, but more sincerely, thanks, Dad, that was a pretty special treat for me.

Would all this music now be considered dated?  Probably.  Do I still love listening to it?  Hell yes.  Does the movie also include the song "The Touch", later made famous by its use in BOOGIE NIGHTS, performed by Mark Wahlberg?  Double hell yes. 

Below is the music video of "The Touch", as performed by Stan Bush, which I watched repeatedly during August 1986:

STAR TREK III: THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK (1984)

It might sound surprising, but my interest and affection for the entire STAR TREK universe began with 1984's STAR TREK III: THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK.  I had seen the previous movies in the series, in fact I saw STAR TREK II in the theaters with my parents in 1982 and enjoyed it immensely.  The initial installment, 1979's STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE, was also a favorite despite it being so drastically different in tone and style than the subsequent films.  Regardless, for character, story and glimpses of the larger TREK universe, the third film really made an impact on me.  Plus there was the lush, exciting and often melancholic music composed by James Horner that had me riveted from its opening.

For whatever reason, though, I failed to catch STAR TREK III until the Spring of 1987, by way an ABC broadcast my dad had recorded.  He must have mentioned this to me and so I was understandably curious to discover how this chapter followed up on the pitch perfect predecessor, THE WRATH OF KHAN (also with music by James Horner).  After one viewing, and despite the usual edits and commercial breaks for network broadcasts, I was hooked.  That unfortunate Beta tape proceeded to be ran through the player multiple times afterwards, on many days once I was home from school.  The emotional components of the movie, from the loyalty of life-long friends and the sacrifices by many to rescue one, plus the riveting sequence of stealing the Enterprise all coalesced into an experience that turned me into a rapt viewer.

Immediately I set myself to trolling stores for TREK novels, episode guides for the original 1960's series (for which I had seen very little) and of course, soundtrack albums.  STAR TREK III topped my wish list for the latter, in addition to any other scores composed by James Horner, who at that time had only been working in the industry for a handful of years.  Record store shelves had precious few of these items, but those juggernaut in-store catalogs allowed me to track down this LP and place my special order.   It would be 6-8 weeks of anticipation until it arrived, but until then I at least had the movie to watch and remember.  I might even have had the music memorized before the record album itself was in my possession.

This was a point in my teens, junior high years, when I lacked a supportive peer group and my sisters were my best friends.  Kids at that age can be fair weather friends, flippant and dismissive of others, unconcerned and short-shighted regarding the unseen emotional wounds this can cause.  It was easy for me to retreat into the world of STAR TREK, where everyone seemed to belong, serve specific purposes and be genuinely appreciated by their peers.  The characters in that world would accept me without judgment.  They were trustworthy and open and showcased a quality unknowingly the most important one to me - consistency.  I imagine this be one reason many of us cling to and revisit fictional characters in fictional universes, that is the people populating them will be the same for us, on each day and on each visit.  We all can need that at times.  As an unpopular teenager, I needed a surrogate group of friends, hence the stalwart crew of the Enterprise became mine.

I soon dragged my younger sister Meri into all things TREK and she graciously humored me as I inundated her with everything I learned.  She was my compatriot and sounding board, oddly and endearingly digging whatever new thing I was delving into.  Despite our 4-year age difference, I could always count on Meri sharing my burgeoning enthusiasm for STAR TREK, Transformers, movie soundtracks and random nerdy pop culture.  At the height of our Trekiness, we actually created and produced a STAR TREK series on cassette of what were essentially "radio plays", utilizing our own custom starship and crew, each performing multiple roles.  What we accomplished was undoubtedly rough around the edges, but our earnest enthusiasm and infectious goofs imbued these recordings with a crazy sense of fun. 

Back on track with THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK, when at last I had that specially ordered record in hand, my emotions ran the course of a roller coaster in mere moments, from the giddy precipitous climb to the stomach-tossing drop.  Similar to double LP sets like THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK, it opened into a beautiful gate-fold cover, this one featuring the Enterprise in a stand-off against a Klingon Bird of Prey.  And also similarly, there were indeed two black platters in their respective sleeves to draw forth, which I immediately interpreted as equating to two full albums worth of music from the movie.  Fantastic!  Alas, I quickly discovered that the second record almost completely lacked grooves, with the exception a single band on side one.  And that single track wound up being... a disco version of the main theme. 

Granted, it was not exactly the music I wished to hear from the film, but the first LP in the set, however, featured some wonderful selections from Horner's score, from the rhapsodic opening piece to the pulse-pounding sequence of Kirk and company stealing the Enterprise and closing with the gorgeous music heralding their eventual arrival on Vulcan.  This score not only turned me into a lifelong fan of composer James Horner, but also music for the entire TREK universe and without a doubt, a TREK fan for life.

Pause for "A Space Odyssey Fail"...

We will return to my regularly scheduled posts after this important comedic break...

During a holiday party a few weeks ago, I was informed by my friend Tanya McClure of this uniquely insane clip.  She discovered that in the 70's there were recordings made by a hodgepodge orchestra, consisting of musicians playing an instrument different than what they studied or members untrained in music in any way whatsoever.  They tackled many of the concert Classical standards, but their most... um, memorable effort might be this performance of Richard Strauss' "Also Sprach Zarathustra", made famous by its use in the film 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY.

Enjoy?