Audio/Visual: A Decade of Music in Film

Here we are, at the end of 2009. I’m recalling my top ten favorite film scores of the past decade and we’re down to the last two. Some of you may be under the impression that I prefer certain picks on my list more than others. This is not the case. I had a hard enough time picking out a slim ten so I didn’t even bother trying to prioritize them. I consider them all equally important and enjoyable. However, these next two are my last presented because they, out of the ten, are the most personal. By this I mean that I feel my own tastes are most strongly represented by these two soundtracks. Listen to them both and you will have the gist of what I love about music in film.

Let’s start with WE ARE THE STRANGE. If you’ve never seen this film (and likely you haven’t) I recommend you google/youtube it. However, truth be told, I don’t much expect many people will “get” the film right away. Much like KILL BILL, this film is a love letter to the creator’s influences. Like him, if you grew up on video games and Japanese animation, you’ll be delighted by its presentation of themes and imagery common to such fair. However, watch the film on a deeper and you’ll see that there’s more too it than just a love letter to the 8-bit era. There’s hints of Akira Kurosawa, Terry Gilliam, The Brothers Quay, and a powerful brooding that brings to mind the eerie atmosphere of Dario Argento’s films.

And that’s just the film. The wonder of the soundtrack (created by a collective including the creator M Dot Strange, a Japanese violinist and several famous chiptune musicians. You can tell right away that there’s several spectrums of talent involved, as the score bounces from deathly string wailing to gleeful Nintendo carnage metamorphing into sheer electronic terror. This is one of the few films I chose whose soundtrack is immediately gripping; if you don’t notice it, you must be brain dead. That’s not to say that it overpowers the film; that’s impossible. Instead, it succeeds at being easily as powerful and innovative.

And there’s the core of why this is such an important soundtrack for me. The challenge of meeting the demands of the visual component must have been daunting. Variety describes the film as “a Freudian/spiritual/psycho-dramatic and high-tech catalog of visual imagery through the ages, as well as a plummet into the bramble patch of Strange’s soul.” That’s a very apt description. It’s impossible to imagine the sounds that should accompany such an insane head trip but imagine they did, and bring it to life with nary a flaw. To describe how striking, how fascinating the music is… like the film, it must be heard to be believed.

At the opposite end the spectrum is the music of THE ILLUSIONIST as composed by Philip Glass. When you think of a film score, this is what you think of; symphonic, sweeping, lush. In a word, cinematic. But it’s also a very subversive soundtrack that has the most rewarding repeat experience I’ve ever had with a soundtrack. And to me, that’s just as important as originality. It takes imagination to come up with something innovative and fresh but it takes talent to make people come back to it again and again. And Philip Glass does this with a godly omnipotence.

Glass is not known for his subtlety. Many describe his music a jokey cliche; Philip Glass walks into a bar Philip Glass walks into a bar Philip Glass walks into a bar. But that’s the beauty of the Glass style; unless you’re actually paying attention, it’s nothing but repetition. It doesn’t take much effort, but you actually do have to put away your thoughts and toys for a moment to capture the utter joy of Philip Glass’ work by absorbing the nuances within. And, like the best works of art, the more you immerse yourself in it, the more you’ll enjoy it. Like nature and life, it’s a cycle.

Now that you are prepared to comprehend and enjoy the music of THE ILLUSIONIST, let me tell you why you’ll enjoy it. The score to THE ILLUSIONIST is pure magic. By “magic”, I’m referring to the kind a magician, an illusionist would conjure. A mystery. It is a cat and mouse game played out in symphonic form. It’s noir, but it does away with the distracting features of traditional noir and distills it to the essentials. There’s wonder here and there, but it’s not a childlike, innocent wonder; it’s more awe and giddiness that prefaces the inevitable climbing spiral of spine-tingling suspense.

And really, that’s what enraptures me the most about this score; pure suspense. Build up. Each song is a small kind of lifeform; some begin as broad strokes, whirling and excited that inevitably pounce with brilliant majesty and glory. Others sway and shimmer seductively, gradually evolving into a gleaming, intense panorama replete with swelling banks of string, keening flutes, booming cellos, a whole ecosystem of grandiose sound. It’s an entirely different species of music whose appeal lies entirely outside of its manifestation; imagine a massive, aged, monolithic structure that towers above you darkly in the night, looming and great with dozens of stunning features that catch the eye and yet, as a whole, overwhelm the senses.

And that closes out my review of the top ten soundtracks of the past decade. I regret that I haven’t yet heard the music of what could be my favorite film of all time: THE IMAGINARIUM OF DR PARNASSUS. It could easily surpass any of these on my list, but I’m unwilling to experience it outside the film’s climes; to do so would seem cheating. So we’ll make do with this for now. I hope my blathering didn’t spoil your appetite for music in film too much, and here’s to another ten years of greatness.

Audio/Visual: A Decade of Music in Film is dedicated to the memory of my grandfather, Lawrence Poleski.