To me, Ice Age was
very much of the ilk of Shrek. It had the star vocal cameos, the
hip-and-happening jokes about the imminent Ice Age, the story of the gooing
human child that the mammal protagonists return to its parents through all
manner of peril, the quaint family values these films were seemingly
commissioned to set in amber. Clearly it wasn’t for me, though I did
raise a few laughs over the fall of the Dodos and the unending efforts of one
small mammal to possess an acorn that ever eludes him. Very impressive was the
score by David Newman, at the time Fox’s in-house animation composer. As with
his earlier score for Anastasia, Newman for the most part mixed
approaches: sometimes underlining the action with mickey-mousing, sometimes
approaching the film more as though it were a live action film with less
reactive underscore, the model laid down by Elmer Bernstein (Heavy Metal)
and Jerry Goldsmith (The Secret of Nimh). With the exception of a very
catchy orchestral hoe-down at the start of the film, it kept a fairly straight
face.
The sequel (it
seems nothing is too uninspiring to earn one these days) comes to us with John
Powell attached as composer. Initially collaborating with Harry
Gregson-Williams on Dreamworks Animation (Shrek, Antz, Chicken Run) and
then pursuing a solo career with emphasis on screwball comedy (or what passes
for it in the twenty-first century – Gigli, Rat Race, Evolution) and
animation (Robots, George Miller’s forthcoming Happy Feet),
Powell has established a popular and recognizable voice. His music never fails
to be frenetic, hard to resist, and more than a little exhausting. (It’s no
coincidence that two of the three reviews linked above describe the respective
Powell albums as exhausting!)
And his Ice Age
2 very much follows in those footsteps. It’s a deft mix of orchestral and
electronic elements, usually alongside each other in impressive orchestrations
from a team that included composer Mark McKenzie. The themes cover a range of
moods – the main theme underscores the zany hijinks of the mammal adventurers.
It first appears in ‘The Waterpark’, moving through orchestra in intensely
catchy fashion. It’s never far away throughout the score – its simple memorable
shape easily summoned as a closing cadence to many of the cues, as in the
pizzicato close ‘Who will join me on the dung heap?’. ‘Into the Sunset’ is the
expected finale rendition, and despite the fact that its been heard to death by
that point, it has irresistible charm. Another catchy theme for the mischief at
hand is turned into a song that’s more than a little irritating – ‘Sid’s
Sing-a-long’ – presented not once but twice on Varese’s album.
There’s also a
theme for the mammoths, introduced in the flute in ‘Call of the Mammoth’ before
a full orchestral introduction, later given woodwind variations in ‘12 Ton
Mammoth and a 10 Ton Possum’ and a guitar rendition at the opening of ‘Into the
Sunset’. Never moreso than in the climactic ‘Mammoths’ – where it appears in
almost Elgarian pomp – this theme is reminiscent of ‘Auld Lang Syne.’ There’s
also a more dramatic theme heard throughout the score, notably in the
sensitively-scored cues ‘Log Moving’ and ‘Ellie Remembers’. This theme is an
inspirational hymn of sorts, growing in weight throughout the score until it is
presented in playful orchestral variations in ‘The Meltdown’, followed by
reprises of all the other themes.
Mind you none of
these themes are played for more than ten seconds. The cues are all very
hyperactive – there’s hardly a one of them that doesn’t go through a number of
significant cue changes. What is impressive is that there’s an arc to the
scoring – the themes build throughout the work to pay-off in particular
moments, and one wishes modern action scores embodied that kind of thinking.
Still, it’s hard to list which cues are primarily comedic, which are dramatic,
and which are action driven, because they’re very often all these things and
more. Powell’s writing always impresses primarily because of how he deftly
makes all these cue changes work for him – the main title alone is a study in
making the frenetic entertaining rather than merely busy. He also manages to
make even the shortest tracks engaging. Take ‘Who will join me on the dung
heap?’ It opens on solo violin as though a tango approaches before a brief
orchestral crescendo and a switch to a Gospel choir and organ for a few bars of
a southern hoe-down (!), the cue closing neatly with a pizzicato rendition of
the main theme.
Still, in what
seems to be my refrain for the month, the album could have been shorter. At
sixty minutes of relatively short bursts it wears out even the sympathetic
listener. There’s enough overlap that fifteen minutes could have been cut out
for the betterment of the whole. Was the ‘Sing-a-long’ really necessary twice?
The reference to ‘Food Glorious Food’ in the middle of the album also throws me
off – there’s nothing wrong with it, but it’s a curiosity that could have
served better at the end of the album. One musical joke that DOES work is the
allusion to Kathchaturian’s ‘Adagio’ from Spartacus, with Powell showing
a hint of Carl Stalling’s genius for interpolating the classics.
There is one flaw
that should be noted. The crash edit from track 8 to track 9 is either very bad
music editing, or a flaw in the production of the album. It’s not a serious
glitch – it had to be pointed out to me – but it’s worth being wary of it.
I can’t say I’ve
heard the whole Powell repetoire so I can’t comment on whether this is terribly
new territory for him, but this album from Varese Sarabande proved to be very
enjoying, and I’ve just gotten into the habit of programming a shorter version
of the score for my own listening. I suggest purchasing tracks 26 through 28 and
track 32 on iTunes for those who are inclined to sample full tracks. They give
an idea of the range of the score, and will probably tell you if it’s your cup
of tea. For my part I had a lot of fun here, even if it did wear me out.
Michael McLennan
Rating: 4