Both of the recent releases from BSX
Records come from films I’ve never heard of before. This release and Madison both seem to occupy that awkward middle ground between theatrical
screenings and Cable TV slots. And this is not all the two seem to have in
common. While Madison feels like an unambitious entry in the small town
sports genre, with a very pleasant score (by Kevin Kiner and Christopher Young)
that nonetheless must be noted as derivative, Laurence David Foldes’ Finding
Home (2003) feels like an unambitious entry in the city-girl-recovers-small-town-roots-through-inherited-property
genre, with a very pleasant score (by Joseph Conlan) that must be noted as
derivative. While in Madison the source of the derivation was
somewhere between a small dose of John Williams Far and Away and a large
dose of Jerry Goldsmith’s Rudy, here the most recognizable style is the
more melodic Thomas Newman. Not that this score doesn’t have a definite
identity to it, but the resemblance should be noted.
Attention to acoustic dynamics throughout
the score is one of the things that brings Newman to mind. For a score whose
budget was presumably not too large, there’s a surprising variety in the
material. The many styles here include:
- the expansive sounding underscore driven
largely by piano and strings (the second half of ‘One Telephone Call’);
- the emphasis on Celtic solo textures (the
uillean pipes throughout the score – much like Road to Perdition);
- the frequently-referenced warm piano
rendering of the lilting ‘Amanda’s Theme’ (first heard in ‘Finding Home’
and given an ethereal pop vocal by Helen Conlan in ‘End Credits’);
- the near hymnal Shawshank-like progressions
of the theme in ‘Like it was yesterday’;
- for the hallucinatory scenes, the
acoustic manipulation of the Lisbeth Scott vocals so that they are almost
gasps for breath among dissonant acoustic and electronic textures (hinted
at in ‘Shadows’ and heard more overtly in the middle of ‘Like it was
yesterday’);
- the cooing choir set against guitar and
strings is another nice touch (the epiphanic ‘Withdraw the Offer’);
And there is a lot more throughout the
album’s luxurious seventy-nine minute running time.
Despite the variety though, the resonance
of the themes, the lush diatonic and occasional chromatic harmonies throughout,
it’s not an album I feel I’ll be returning to often. I can think of two reasons why.
Partly it’s the length – too much of a good thing is no good
thing, and in this respect this album shares a flaw often seen in the indulgent
releases of lesser James Horner scores. I’m sure there’s someone out there who
will want to hear all of this in one sitting and count it a blessing. I just
have trouble believing that the majority of soundtrack collectors wouldn’t have
preferred a more judiciously chosen forty to forty-five minute album. (I mean,
think about it – three of the best scores of recent years, Desplat’s Birth,
Sams’s Enduring Love, and James Newton-Howard’s The Village, were
all half the length of this release, and hardly suffered for the economy!)
Secondly, there’s a structural problem
here. The themes are as poignant, the orchestrations as thick, and dramatic
peaks as high at the start of the score as they are at the finish. It’s hard to
believe that this film couldn’t have benefited from a score structure more
organic to the dramatic arc (presumably there is one). If the story is about a
woman who approaches a sense of peace by confronting the emotional demons of
her past, then perhaps the music should approach a sense of peace instead of
starting from that point. It’s like the action music of the current scoring
climate – Van Helsing and Cutthroat Island treat every action
scene like it’s the greatest, most white-knuckled action scene ever filmed. Never
mind it’s the first one in the film, and the composer has given himself no room
to increase the intensity. (They’d be advised to study the dynamics of
Christopher Gordon’s Ward 13 score – the full orchestral action is held
off until strings-based action music has run its course, and the latter is
brought back when the former tires, as it must.) So too with Finding Home, it
feels like all moments are equally ‘dramatic’, regardless of their positioning
in the narrative. And it’s a rare seventy-nine minute album that can sustain
that mode in perpetuum.
And yet I concede this is a very pleasant
listen indeed. It’s a bit like The Book of Stars, a recent La-La-Land
release. It’s melodic, it’s lush, it’s incredibly professional sounding for a
low budget film. The liner notes are great, the cover art is not so great,
there’s more than enough attractive cues here to listen to. I don’t quite know
what to give it, but for the sake of how nice it sounds, I will err on the
positive.
[PS. I beg the film composers of the future
to leave Celtic music aside for a while. There are many nations, many unique timbres,
and having the uillean pipes both here and in Madison this month,
I’ve just about had my fill of it.]
Michael McLennan
As the Complete Album: 2.5
When 7-8 tracks out of the 29 are judiciously chosen for an edited experience: 3.5