[The second in the series about movie soundtracks comes from Nate Underkuffler who plays viola in the brilliant Young Republic. He's so into film music he used to record them on a tape player held up against the speakers on his television. Apparently the string arrangements for recent single Blue Skies were influenced by the soundtrack to Men in Black, so I thought I'd ask him to explain himself. For more on The Young Republic, here's a review of their new album 12 Tales From Winter City, and here's my recent interview with Julian and Chris from the band.]

How many people here periodically reflect on the breathless, exhilarating rush of creativity and manic sophistication of the 2002 Eddie Murphy film The Adventures of Pluto Nash? (The man on the moon.) How about marvel at the genre-transcending elegance and blossoming masterful skill which culminates in a sheer undeniable artistry that is found in the 1993 Wesley Snipes sci-fi film Demolition Man? Well, I certainly do. But alas, these traits cannot be found in all aspects of the films, but only in their music.

Wait, those movies had music in them? Oh they most certainly did, original music written by young artists who were riding the wave of their talents at their young and wild crest.

For some reason, people find it difficult to believe that a terrible film could have great music. Poor screenwriters and actors! It’s them who seem to be the one stop along a movie’s long assembly line that gets the brunt of audiences’ critical abuse. “The story didn’t go anywhere and was unrealistic.” “Some of that dialogue was so embarrassing!” “She was just terrible in that role!” are common complaints we all make when walking out of the movie theater. The more experienced of us may look to the direction or attention-grabbing special effects for sources of praise and disappointment, but few will venture to the more subtle crafts like lighting, sound effects, or apparently, original underscore.

Which has always been a mystery to me. If you’re reading this then chances are you have more than a passing interest in music, yet in the theater, the onrush of images seem to distract everyone from the virtually always-present distinctive and beautiful voices in contemporary music composition. Well, fair enough, I suppose the film-going experience is supposed to be a package deal.

People always find it odd when I sing the praises of scores to critically and popularly loathed films like The Musketeer or Legends of the Fall, but what they forget is that film composers are not inherently tied to the merits of the films they work on, but are in fact individual creative beings unto-themselves, who follow the same dynamics which govern any musical artist. Radiohead was the above-average 90s rock band that suddenly broke their way into exciting, creative ground in Ok Computer, and in turn developed these fruitful ideas to create the landmark and influential Kid A. In the same respect, John Powell is the above-average young film composer who suddenly found this tremendously exciting and unique side to his voice with his score to The Bourne Identity in 2002, and when he signed on to score the Ben Affleck sci-fi film Paycheck the next year, developed these ideas into a phenomenal piece of work. Little did it matter if Paycheck was a stupid movie or not. The notes Powell wrote were generated by his own head, not Affleck’s onscreen performance. A futuristic thriller gave him the guidelines to write great music, never mind if the film was actually a good futuristic thriller. After this undeniable talent was displayed, Powell’s films have since improved in quality. But a great score for a bad film is most likely to occur when the composer is young and really coming into their own, and the quality of the films they score haven’t caught up to the quality of their own talent.

But there is another situation where a great score can come from a bad film – the grand cinematic failure. The misguided Hollywood film that has all of the resources and technical talents money can buy, but is doomed by some fatal flaw(s). The first Pirates of the Caribbean film has, in my humble opinion, absolutely insipid, horrible music. But the two sequels –which I think we can all agree are inferior works to the original- are blessed with far more creative, accomplished music. This is because the schedule of the first film was such that a team of B-level composers had literally 2 weeks to write and record the music, but after that film’s success the filmmakers were able to hire the very accomplished, and undeniably talented (as well as more expensive) composer Hans Zimmer. Although the second and third Pirates of the Caribbean movies were hollow and a muddle of narrative carelessness, like any Hollywood sequels meant only to make money, they did still intend to be grand adventure films. And a film composer does not score a film’s failure, but the film’s intentions. The final sequence of Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End is supposed to be this cataclysmic, supremely epic pirate showdown, yet it mostly just ends up being really stupid. Zimmer, however, does his job, and writes this grand pirate cataclysmic showdown symphony, and it may not be Beethoven, but it kicks ass. Unfortunately music can’t save a picture that’s already dead.

Of course, to be able to distinguish a film’s score from the merits of the overall film, as well as the ability to understand what makes a great film score, takes time, and a genuine interest in the art form- for example your mother probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between Pavement and her neighbor’s crappy garage band. But the next time you have to sit through “We’re Back: A Dinosaur’s Story” on a bus ride, try to ignore the animated dinosaurs and keep your ears open; it may not be as bad as it looks.

Hog Chase Part 1
Meeting Cocteau

Posts in this series:
- Crash Calloway from Pretending Life is Like a Song writes about The Commitments.
- Nate, who plays viola in The Young Republic explains why some terrible films have excellent scores.
- My dearest darling Mrs. Toad sings the praises of the High School Movie.
- DC, presenter of The Waiting Room, goes on a truly interminable ramble about the great Tom Waits and One From the Heart.
- Brother of Toad talks about how the context of music can interfere with its use in a movie.
- John sums up Natural Born Killers in three sentences.
- I have a go myself by writing about the art of referencing films in your song lyrics and what it lets you do.
- Tim from The Daily Growl digs away at the sensual texture of In the Mood For Love.
- Matt from Draped in Velvet might never forgive the false start of the world of rap-rock.
- Ian from Broken Records delivers the rant that started this all off: why soundtracks just don’t work!