Should the Amalgamated Union of Film
Composers (if there isn’t such a body there should be) impose a minimum time
limit on scoring pictures? Say three weeks composing time for every hour of
music required? I only ask because expecting James Newton Howard to write
almost three hours of music in five weeks seems to me patently unreasonable.
Original composer Howard Shore apparently thought so too, since he and Peter
Jackson parted company on Kong after working so fruitfully together on Lord
of the Rings.
As it is, Howard should at least be
congratulated for completing such a gargantuan assignment in such a punishingly
short time, especially given that he never even met the director, who was in
New Zealand editing the movie while the composer was in LA, and that the
scoring sessions were disrupted by lack of soundstage space in Hollywood,
necessitating frequent moves to different venues (five in all) and the use of
different musicians. The result is a technical triumph if not necessarily a
musical one. Howard was helped across the finishing line by no less than eight
orchestrators. And that in a nutshell is the trouble with this score. Howard Shore’s insistence on orchestrating his own music might have meant he lost the Kong
job, but on the plus side it guarantees that each of his scores is distinctive
and possessed of a strong musical identity. By contrast, this Kong is
impressively slick, impressively professional – but overall it lacks personality.
I hate to seem reactionary, but what this
movie cries out for is a good old-fashioned symphonic film score, one that is
constructed as an organic whole with strong identifiable themes that grow,
develop and intertwine as the drama progresses. The kind of thing John Williams
writes every time, even, dare I say it, the kind of thing Howard Shore did with LOTR and presumably could have done again given the time. We need a bold
‘Kong theme’, a wistful ‘Ann theme’, a minor-key love theme that cues our ears
to expect tragedy. Throw in a declamatory fanfare or two, plus some
well-choreographed action set-pieces that playfully toss the main themes around
the orchestra and the result should have been a cross between the unabashed
romance of E.T. and the noble majesty of Jurassic Park – you get the idea.
Instead, we have 75 minutes on CD of
generally very good music, with one or two outstanding moments, but the overall
impression that nothing sticks together as a whole. There’s an ominous
minor-key motif that opens Track 1 and returns again as the fateful voyage
begins but is then dropped. There’s a bona fide love theme, led by piano
and solo oboe over strings, heard first in “Beautiful” then again in “Central Park”, but mysteriously absent from the finale. There’s a four-note stomping ‘Kong’
motif (presumably a deliberate echo of Steiner’s similar three-note motif)
which gets blasted out on the brass occasionally but doesn’t build to anything.
None of these are really striking enough, particularly given that they remain
underdeveloped throughout. That finale, “Beauty Killed the Beast” (Tracks
17-21), is a real curiosity, introducing meandering new themes complete with
ethereal strings and voices in the manner of Shore’s Return of the King instead
of giving us what we really need: a full-blooded recapitulation of the love
theme in the grandest, most tragic manner imaginable (again, recall what
Williams does with the final reel of E.T.). These are the highlights.
Elsewhere, the enjoyment levels fade during the frenetic action scenes, which
sound like they were the bits handed over to the orchestrators with the vague
instruction: “do something noisy here”.
Back in 1933 it took Max Steiner eight
weeks to write his Kong music (with the help of one orchestrator,
Bernard Kaun). Although not immediately recognised as such by contemporary
audiences and critics, Steiner’s lasting achievement was to demonstrate just
how powerful specially composed music synchronised to the screen could be in
communicating emotion, both drama and – especially with Kong – pathos.
The problem of getting the audience to empathise with a giant gorilla (and a
model one to boot) was largely solved by Steiner’s music, which is by turns
expressively romantic and grandiloquent, and comes complete with easily
identifiable leitmotifs after the Wagnerian operatic model. With Kong,
Steiner set the template that is still by and large being adhered to in Hollywood. (John Williams paid deliberate homage to it in 1996’s Jurassic Park
sequel The Lost World.)
Steiner’s Kong is a film music
classic, but mostly for the extra-musical reasons outlined above. Arguably it’s
not his best score, not even in the Top Five best Steiner scores. Still, it
remains (in John Morgan’s reconstruction on the Marco Polo label) a genuinely
satisfying listening experience that can be enjoyed for its intrinsic musical
merits. Even the 1977 remake, otherwise an entirely lacklustre affair, elicited
from John Barry a memorable score, suffused with languid strings in that
characteristically Barryesque manner – in other words, another score with some
genuine personality.
Overall this new Kong is less
immediately striking than either Steiner’s original or Barry’s effort, nor is
there anything here to compare with the majesty of Williams’s Jurassic Park
theme (have CG beasties ever been more gracefully depicted than that?). The
relentless progress of realistic special effects has also, apparently, obviated
the need for music to help audience empathy: in Jackson’s movie, Andy Serkis
provides the facial expressions for the gorilla so convincingly that we hardly
need to hear the piano tinkling gently in the background to gather that some
inter-species romance is in the air. I say ‘apparently’ because an FX-heavy
movie doesn’t necessarily mean that the music gets squeezed out – take LOTR
or Revenge of the Sith as good examples of how a sympathetic composer
can ‘add value’ musically to a picture even though it is crammed full of FX.
The trouble with this Kong is that,
although he provides an awful lot of scoring, Howard fails to provide musical
ears with anything strong enough to hang on to. This is a shame, since he has
managed to do just that with worse movies in the past, notably Waterworld,
which owes what little dramatic and emotional impact it has to his striking
contribution. Oddly, perhaps, it’s a score that sounds better on CD than in
the movie. The disc’s selection is less than half the music written, and it’s
assuredly the better half. The rest of the score sounded functional but little
more on screen and I for one am not sorry that it has been omitted here.
If I’ve been excessively harsh it’s
because, I confess, I have an axe to grind: this was one of the most expensive
movies ever made, with lavish and unprecedented attention paid to all aspects
of its production – except one. The music got neglected, as so often happens,
and it was left to James Newton Howard to do the best he could in very trying
circumstances. The result is not bad at all, just not great when it really should
have been. The Amalgamated Union of Film Composers need to take action now:
strike, work to rule, do whatever it takes to get some proper composing time
for your members and stop the movie moguls short-changing us film music fans.
Solidarity, brothers.
Mark Walker
2.5