David Julyan is a British composer whose fortunes rose with
fellow national, director Christopher Nolan. Together they worked on Doodlebug
(1997), Following (1998), the groundbreaking Memento (2000),
and at the height of their partnership, Insomnia (2002). Sadly for
Julyan, the ‘Danny Elfman effect’ did not take place, Nolan moved on to
collaborate with Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard on Batman Begins
(2005), and Julyan’s work since the impressive thriller score for Insomnia
has been mostly low budget British films, including SPIVS (2004), Inside
I’m Dancing (2004), The Last Drop (2005) and The Descent
(2005). It remains to be seen whether Nolan will be renewing the partnership
for his upcoming tale of magician rivalry tale The Prestige (2006).
Until now, Julyan’s only work available on CD was for Insomnia,
a mood-driven score with an orchestral-electronic blend that recalled the
works of Angelo Badalamenti at times. Cinefonia Records redresses the gap with
this new release – a compilation of three of his other scores, including
excerpts from the oft-requested Memento score. Following told the
story of a young writer taken under the wing of an older thief, and did so
without the benefit of the budgeted gimmickry of most films. The most
experimental the film gets is in its chronology – even before Memento Nolan
was experimenting with non-linear scene ordering for dramatic effect. The film
had a very limited budget – if imdb.com is to be believed, a total of eight
dollars were allocated to the music budget. With those kinds of parameters,
it’s not a surprise to find that Julyan chose to score this with an ATARY-ST
keyboard and some samples.
And I suspect it’s that reliance on electronic
instrumentation that will limit the appeal of this album for soundtrack
collectors. I can’t say I share the sentiment. Acoustic textures are incredibly
powerful, but my ears do get tired of full orchestral scores after a while,
especially when the content is utterly derivative as scores often are these
days. Not that I’m making excuses for sampling substituted in place of acoustic
textures – I don’t think that really works either, the listener always being
aware that this music could have been so much better if only they’d spent more
money on it. Where electronic instrumentation shines is in scores like Following
and Mark Isham’s Crash, where the only imitated sound is piano, the
rest of the sounds being more unique electronic textures.
It couldn’t have hurt my appreciation of the score that I
listened to Following while walking late at night through empty streets.
Julyan’s melancholy ‘Theme’, with its expansive harmonic chords and keyboard
melody, is a subtle and beautiful accompaniment for the urban night-time. It
features again in the ‘Closing Titles’, a beautiful synthesized cue. The rest
of the short score can be divided into two elements. ‘Opening’ showcases urgent
mechanical rhythms and high-end almost-distorted screeches, a pattern repeated
intermittently throughout the score. Most typical of the score is ‘Blond’, an
arrangement of synths in a slow rising-falling motion that is incredibly simple
(it basically a repeated two-chord idea) but remarkably effective in its
description of emotional state. The abrasive ‘Opening’ and the meditative
‘Blond’ are frequently counter-pointed throughout the score, as in
‘Photographs’. Though the cues are generally short (the longest – the moving
‘Confessions’ – is just under four minutes), the score tends to play as a
single movement – one cue flowing naturally into the next – and you hardly
realize that you’re listening to…
…Memento. A strangely detaching film that told a
story in reverse that would have still been a powerful story played in the
correct order. I was a bit detached watching it, because the issues were so
strong, and the ending so weighed down by the knowledge that it would result in
the beginning, that it was probably the only way to view it without getting
depressed. The score for this is very much like Following, but a bit
richer in synthetic orchestration – the liner notes mentioning that the cues
presented were ‘improved for this album by the composer’. The samples here only
give a suggestion of what is probably a larger score. ‘Trailer Park Chase’ is a
blend of suspense and action, with samples suggesting strident cello strokes.
(Reminiscent of Brad Fiedel’s Terminator music.) ‘How can I heal?’ is
more dramatic in intent, the culmination of the hero’s regressive journey. Long
synth chords intermingle between different samples, creating a sense of closure
but at the same time denying fulfillment. The legato style chords fall away
into more staccato effects at the end, mirroring the pessimistic ending of the
film. Again, it’s very simple, but that’s the beauty of film music – when
budgets are tiny, simplicity suffices.
Most interesting to score collectors will be the fourteen
minute suite from SPIVS, a film about shady men featuring Dominic
Monagham. (He of the hobbit Merry from the Jackson Lord of the Rings
movies.) Despite the title suggesting a British mob film a la Snatch, the
score tells a completely different story. The film’s budget afforded the
resources of an orchestrator and session players, and while the acoustic
colours aren’t evident in the opening ‘Mr Villa’, woodwind and string textures
peer into the sound mix in the beautiful ‘Driving the Kids’. ‘Auntie Vee’s
House’ showcases cello writing over gentle string harmonies, with harp and
piano writing leading into an oboe piece. Gorgeous cello closes the piece, its
warm range especially effective when put in context of the two scores that have
come before. The theme presented here is reprised in ‘Victoria Park’, with a
gorgeous expressive violin solo. ‘Flirting’ is jazzier in feel – with acoustic
bass, marimba and piano entering into the spirit of the seduction. Whoever
‘Jenny’ is, she seems to be one of the darker characters in the piece, the
heavily-flanged rock theme for her standing out like a sore thumb in an
otherwise attractive score. ‘Plan’ features a hint of violin (reminiscent of
the acoustics of David Byrne’s Young Adam), and the suite concludes with
the most richly orchestral pieces on the album, the melancholy ‘Jack Leaves’
(Geoffrey Burgon and George Fenton come to mind) and the lyrical ‘Goodbye to
the Kids’ (the theme of which recalls Richard Gibbs’ Book of Stars, though
I’m sure this is coincidental).
It takes a little getting used to, and to some the budget
restrictions of the films these scores accompany will make the music
uninteresting. But this is good film music, and I hope we’ll hear more from
David Julyan. Cinefonia are to be commended for putting out on CD an album that
few distributors would have bothered to.
Michael McLennan
Rating: 3