A Score To Settle Podcast - Episode 3, Listening To... Bernard Herrmann

I'm glad to announce another new episode of my podcast! In this episode, I talk about and present examples of the music of Bernard Herrmann, a legendary, enigmatic and trend-setting figure in film scores, specifically as the Golden Age of Hollywood began to wane and transition into broader styles and textures. I titled this "Listening To..." and plan to revisit this topic with various composers, whether to present attributes of their overall style or focus on particular genres or even a certain year of their career. This is not a comprehensive biography of the man or his entire career, but more of a brief introduction for anyone who might be curious to learn about what to listen for.

As before, I do hope everyone who listens enjoys this episode and forgives any technical and verbal gaffes I might make. This is my first episode on my own. Below is the embedded player from which you can listen to the episode, but also feel free to download the episode from iTunes (search their podcast store for "a score to settle"), check out the link from the Facebook page or click on the website link below the player, which should take you directly to where the episode is being hosted. If you do listen via iTunes, take a moment to rate the podcast, it will help bring notice. Thanks again!

https://ascoretosettle.podbean.com/e/asts-003-listening-to-bernard-herrmann/

A Score To Settle Podcast - Episode 2, Guest Neil Bulk, classic soundtrack album editor/producer (part 2)

I'm happy to announce another episode of my new podcast has now been posted! This is part two of my conversation with classic soundtrack editor and producer, Neil Bulk, continuing on from the previous episode. Some of the topics discussed include his beginnings as a soundtrack fan and collector, re-recordings of movie music, fan demands when it comes to specialty album releases from the niche labels and at the end, Neil tries to get me to actually narrow down my favorite scores. 

As before, I hope everyone who listens enjoys this episode and also forgives any technical and verbal gaffes I might make. Below is the embedded player from which you can listen to the episode, but also feel free to download the episode from iTunes (search their podcast store for "a score to settle"), check out the link from the Facebook page or click on the website link below the player, which should take you directly to where the episode is being hosted. I am hoping that there will be fewer technical issues this time than occurred previously, but let me know what you think!

https://ascoretosettle.podbean.com/e/asts-002-guest-neil-bulk-part-2/

https://ascoretosettle.podbean.com/e/asts-002-guest-neil-bulk-part-2/

A Score To Settle - The Podcast! Episode 1: "Logan's Run" (1976)/Guest Neil Bulk, classic soundtrack album editor/producer

To anyone who reads or has read my blog, I wanted to let you know about a new feature I am adding. After almost four years of posting my thoughts and personal experiences here, I decided to try my hand at podcasting, wanting to share more about the music, through analyzing specific scores, overviews of composer careers and even guest interviews with individuals who work in the industry and also fellow fans. 

Below is my first episode, which should also be available soon on iTunes. In the first segment of the episode I talk about Jerry Goldsmith's score for the 1976 science fiction movie LOGAN'S RUN. After this, I start a conversation with Neil Bulk, who is an editor and producer of classic soundtrack albums, including archival releases of Danny Elfman's score for 1989's BATMAN and Michael Kamen's music for the LETHAL WEAPON series. Many of his albums are available from labels such as La La Land Records, Varese Sarabande and Intrada Records.

I sure hope everyone enjoys parts or all of the episode and forgives any technical and verbal gaffes I made. I'm still learning as I go in this endeavor, making mistakes and trying to produce something both fun and insightful! 

WELCOME HOME, ROXY CARMICHAEL (1990)

One of the many aspects I love and find fascinating about movie music is how many genres it can pull from to craft a specific sound for a film and still make it all feel organic, musically. It could mean incorporating a particular exotic instrument from a distant corner of the globe, such as the duduk from Armenia, featured in Jerry Goldsmith's score for THE RUSSIA HOUSE, or the serpent, the ancient wind instrument utilized by Bernard Herrmann in his music for MYSTERIOUS ISLAND. It might also be a particular style of music and not just restricted to the orchestral arena, but instead mixing in elements of rock, funk, country or electronica that could inspire a composer. This latter influence became more prevalent from the 1960's and onward, to the extent that scores performed entirely on synthesizers became more accepted and commonplace by the late 70's and into the 80's, and not only for low budget horror movies.  This brings me to composer Thomas Newman, who's synth-pop influenced film scores of the 1980's really drew my attention. 

Thomas Newman is film music royalty. Not only has he maintained a steady stream of high profile work and is considered among the most talented and lauded composers in recent decades, but Thomas also is kin to one of the main musical architects of the art form, that being Alfred Newman, a titan of the industry. Thomas Newman introduced a unique sound and idiosyncratic approach to film scoring, right from his debut, which set a fresh standard primarily for dramas and indies - see THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION and AMERICAN BEAUTY. His sound is now often imitated in a similar fashion as John Williams's sound is for space fantasy and Hans Zimmer's for action pictures. Check out Newman's opening piece for 1999's AMERICAN BEAUTY. Be amazed at how far-reaching its aural influence has been since its release, in movies, TV and reality shows, that sound of peculiar marimbas set against tablas, detuned guitars and mandolin. I imagine even Newman himself might have grown weary of hearing copycats in every corner.

Now, if we roll back the clock to 1985, it was the one-two punch of REAL GENIUS and THE MAN WITH ONE RED SHOE that made me a fan of Mr. Newman. Both movies are unequivocally representative of that flashy decade, a quality some might label as "dated", but I tend not to think of that as a negative. To me it simply means that they've become a sort of time capsule, even musically. At that time they would be considered current - electronic percussion and percolating synths all laced with jangly guitars in a style that melded well with vocal tracks sprinkled about, especially in REAL GENIUS. One can hear a synergy between the score and songs in this era, akin to how R&B and funk permeated movie music a decade earlier. As a side note, the fact that "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" by Tears For Fears closes out REAL GENUIS is probably why it became one of my favorite songs.

The downside of being a fan back then was that so little of Thomas Newman's music was being released on album. Also, for someone who mostly sought out film scores featuring a sprawling orchestral bent, I was surprised at how much Newman's sound connected with me. Other than owning some Duran Duran records, I didn't own much contemporary pop back then. Yet, it was Newman's use of guitars and synths that wound up influencing which indie/alternative bands I later followed, such as The Sundays, The Smiths, The Innocence Mission and Cocteau Twins. His music could be moody, reflective, then at turns both quirky and kinetic. It wasn't until 1990's WELCOME HOME, ROXY CARMICHAEL, a small-scale, forgotten drama featuring Winona Ryder and Jeff Daniels, that he finally received an album release all to himself, not sharing disc space with other artists or only getting one track. After catching the movie on HBO (it had cycled through cinemas pretty quickly), I was bowled over at finding the score in my local record store, picking it up on cassette, no less.

That was Summer 1991, same as my high school graduation and my initial stint as a busboy in a Mexican restaurant. Reflecting on it now, those three or so months between the end of high school and the start of college is kind of a sweet spot in life never again encountered. You're floating free from scholastic demands and expectations in both directions, nothing is yet weighing heavy on one's head, or at least mine felt unburdened. It was as if the next train carrying you further into life hadn't left the station yet, instead there was this respite allowing you time to mentally and emotionally unpack from those years, sort through it and then create space for the experiences that follow. Once you step foot onto that college campus as a freshman then you're on the way, pedal to the metal, forward motion has commenced and you're navigating that new terrain all while charting life beyond it. I'm not sure if I was aware of these thoughts that Summer, but I vaguely recall doing what I could to enjoy the brief pause before the "play" button was pressed again for the rest of my days.

Anyway, I brought that ROXY CARMICHAEL cassette into work with me on the day I purchased it. I placed it atop the ice machine in the wait station, the area where servers and bussers grabbed warm tortilla chips, watered-down salsa and soft drinks for the customers. Secretly I think I wanted someone to ask me about the cassette, just so I could share with them my fascination with movie music, especially seeing how this was kind of a contemporary title and sound. I remember how I was still getting accustomed to making friends outside of the school environment, figuring out what the hell do you talk about it if it's not homework, teachers and grades. One of the waiters spotted the cassette, noted the cover (same as the movie artwork seen at top left) and assumed it included some awesome bands. I of course exhaustively (for him) explained that it was actually the movie's score, there were no songs, no vocals included, all of which pretty soon made me into the "weird guy", the enigma on staff there. Oh well, everyone still respected my talents as a kick-ass busboy. And being considered weird there didn't result in any sort of ostracizing, instead it amazingly fostered closer friendships with co-workers.

There exists a wonderful variety in Newman's music for ROXY CARMICHAEL. It incorporates pop textures he'd displayed previously while embellishing this with his bourgeoning talents for purely orchestral tracks. The opening cue, "In A Closet", is led by a fragile, broken piano line, partnered with a plaintive saxophone, that's sweet yet sad. Thick guitars bring up the volume in "Little Black Bird". Heard elsewhere in subsequent tracks are nervous keyboard figures and quirky saxophones, sketching out succinct riffs. The climactic cue "Her Limousine" was always a standout, as it showcases a swelling string section that presages what would become Newman's primary sound a few years later, notably heard in THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION. He excels at this - bringing an emotional component that cuts through you, but in an oblique fashion, not saccharine or too on-the-nose. His music is often gorgeous in an unassuming manner.

Listen below for a sample track from ROXY CARMICHAEL, along with a dreamy cue titled "Day Grave" from Thomas Newman's score for 1987's LESS THAN ZERO. The latter was only recently, and thankfully, released on disc from La-La Land Records and has remained on consistent rotation for me since then. I couldn't help but share it here in this post, as it's swathed in the 80's sonorities I find still so magnetic.

RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK (1981), DUNKIRK (2017)

At a recent Hollywood Bowl concert I attended, I had a long time dream fulfilled.  Before you go imagining that I'm referring to seeing The Village People and Kool & The Gang together, know that you are incorrect, despite the level of fantastic achieved by that particular show. No, this dream of mine concerned a little movie you might have heard of called RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, It features a tuneful score by that unfortunately "obscure" composer, John Williams. OK, I'm just being cheeky, but to better color in the corners of this dream, I should mention that it originated when I was around 10 or 11 years old. I had the wish to someday see Williams' music for the famous truck chase through the desert performed live by an orchestra. Yes, my dream was that specific. Yes, the entire score is brilliant, even beyond the indelible theme for Indiana Jones, but that eight minute cue, propelling Indy from riding in the saddle of a white horse to furiously driving that battered German truck to a hideout, is a masterful, balletic mini-symphony. 

The venerable Hollywood Bowl has booked the LA Philharmonic often in recent years for live performances of film scores, including popular favorites BACK TO THE FUTURE and E.T. THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL. played in sync to picture for the entire length. This differs from other concerts where only brief score selections are performed, main themes and highlights. For the live-to-picture events, the orchestra performs center stage with a sprawling screen above them and after a time an audience can really get lost in the experience, to the point of forgetting that the music accompanying the movie is right in front of them, playing live. This can be an incredibly difficult task for both conductor and orchestra.  There can be upwards of 80 minutes of music to perform, exact sync points that need to be hit to complete the illusion and if there are any flubs they can't repeat that scene again as a do-over, which would be the case when recording the score in a studio.

Experiencing a movie in this venue, in this presentation, can be revelatory, prompting another look at the movie in question with fresh eyes.  On this night in August, there was a palpable buzz in the audience, as when they're anticipating a legendary pop star's performance. Everyone seemed eager, almost moreso than at the similar screenings I attended of E.T. and several HARRY POTTER films. Once esteemed conductor David Newman (an excellent composer in his own right) bounded onstage to lead the orchestra, the audience expressed its excitement at joining together in this cinematic adventure.  I don't think anyone was aware of this, but having the orchestra perform the score live to picture strangely gives this endeavor a sense of unpredictability, of possible danger, as if this is all happening for the first time.  For me, it opened up a new avenue by which to explore the movie, even after countless viewings over decades.

One instance early on that became more pronounced by the presence of the live orchestra was the introduction of Indiana Jones.  He remains shadowed during the opening credits trek, only stepping into the light after dispatching by way of his bullwhip the turncoat member of his team. Indy's reveal is accompanied by menacing, descending chords voiced by heavy, low brass.  The Hollywood Bowl audience cheered at the sight of star Harrison Ford's iconic character however I realized that in a musical vernacular this didn't sound at all like the introduction of the movie's hero. If one didn't know any better, you might assume this was villain. If I hadn't already been so familiar with the movie, I might be unsure of whether this taciturn man with a whip should be trusted.  I consider it a pretty clever touch by director Steven Spielberg, along with Williams, as they could have easily just underscored this moment with a flash of the bright, heraldic theme for Indiana Jones, retaining instead that element of mystery to him, even for a short time.

Another aspect brought to the forefront in this presentation is how sparsely scored RAIDERS is, especially in comparison to action films of the past twenty years or so.  Early on, not only are dialogue-driven scenes allowed to play naturally but additionally, that chaotic firefight in Marion's bar contains no notes to compete with the gunfire and fisticuffs. Williams's music only ratchets up the initial tension, backs out and then returns once Indy and Marion are safe.  I find this could be a stylistic holdover from cinema of the 1970's, an era when filmmakers typically favored less underscore and a more natural ambiance and pacing, the advantage being that once music does appear to punctuate a moment its emotional affect is that much more powerful.  Even action movies of the 70's featured sporadic cues, often bowing out of chase sequences altogether. Granted, RAIDERS is more of a period-specific adventure tale than pure action like DIRTY HARRY, but I think it does represent somewhat of a bridge musically speaking from that decade into the 80's. For contrast, simply take a look and listen to its sequel, INDIANA JONES AND THE TEMPLE OF DOOM, produced three years later. Now, I don't mean to cast aspersions on the follow-up, as it has its own charms and rollicking fun, but almost every sequence from start to finish, outside of the village and palace dinner scenes, is scored. And despite the fact that Williams provides brilliant, memorable accompaniment throughout, I think it can lead to a sense of exhaustion before even reaching the last third of the movie.

This brings me to the recently released feature DUNKIRK, from writer/director Christopher Nolan, out this Summer, and the other focus of this post.  I happened to see this new film the day after seeing RAIDERS at the Hollywood Bowl. I was thoroughly engaged in the movie, as I have been with all of Nolan's cinematic efforts, from its twisty, staggered-linear narrative to the impressive flying sequences. However, one element of its construction stood out to me during the viewing, naturally regarding the score, composed by Hans Zimmer. I noted that once the music is introduced after the opening minutes it never lets up for the remainder of the movie. Not to sound hyperbolic, but honestly, I can't immediately recall any break in that sonic wall. I don't want this to be interpreted as a criticism, but instead an observation. Its effect is subjective, of course. Personally, I kept expecting there to be a scene when I could settle further into the movie, or that the movie itself would settle down for a moment to emphasize a point. There is a particular scene containing the unexpected death of a character and as it unfolded I thought to myself, why is the music still chugging through all this without acknowledging it in the slightest?  Or, why doesn't the score at the very least pause so that both me and the other characters can feel the weight of this unforeseen loss?

Live at The Hollywood Bowl

At the time, it annoyed me. Later, I reflected on this aspect a bit further. This may not be a case of just clumsy spotting (the process of deciding which scenes in a movie will or won't need music) by the director, attempting to plaster over every scene and treating the score as simple sonic wallpaper, for fear that silence would be perceived as dull. This is a familiar criticism among cine-files and aficionados. I've even made the same judgment myself on current filmmaking trends. However, Christopher Nolan crafts his movies carefully and thoughtfully. There normally isn't any superfluous or random element included, even when the length approaches three hours. I had to allow for the fact that this was entirely a purposeful creative choice.

Music's presence can compress how we experience time while watching a movie. The omnipresent prevalence of music in DUNKIRK could be tied to the three-pronged, staggered timeline of its story, displayed onscreen during the opening sequence as "one week", "one day" and "one hour". With no lapse in the score, that sense of time compression constantly accelerates the spiraling orbits of all three story lines. An intersection, or even collision between all three, feels inevitable, with music and editing as the driving engine. Any interruption in one would seem to increase its importance over the other two. If the music had shifted to acknowledge that one character's death I mentioned, then the audience's attention is pulled too far into that specific subplot.  I think Nolan needed the music to maintain an objective distance. Yes, this also results in the audience being kept at a distance emotionally, but we thus accept more easily slipping between the various plot threads and timelines. Only in the closing scenes is there a release musically when we can experience the elation and victory of the players in the film.

RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK and DUNKIRK occupy opposite ends of the spectrum in the category of World War II genre movies, as well as filmmaking styles overall. I considered the thirty-six year gap that separate them and the changes that have occurred during that range; then, as I often do with movies, turned that same number of years around and compared RAIDERS to what populated cinemas in 1945.  Our perception can be so skewed with movies - we might feel that RAIDERS doesn't seem like an "old movie", yet back in 1981 we certainly might have labeled movies from 1945 as "old". In that year, cinema-goers enjoyed OBJECTIVE BURMA!, starring Errol Flynn, and BACK TO BATAAN with John Wayne, both well regarded, venerable classics of the same genre. In comparing DUNKIRK against RAIDERS, the latter now appears more in line with films of the mid-1940's than it does to the new Nolan wartime epic. One might conclude, based on this observation, is that by 1981 the way films were constructed hadn't really altered too drastically, whereas the cinematic evolutions since then have been vast, like listening to music on LP versus streaming it via Spotify.  If we imagine movies as living things, they breathed differently in the analog era than in the current digital age. It's even more evident when enveloped by the sound of a living, breathing orchestra accompanying RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK live.