Also worth picking up DA VINCI’S DEMONS, DAYS OF THUNDER, FROZEN, LAST VEGAS, LES VISITEURS, LUTHER, JIMMY P., PHILOMENA, THOR and VISIT TO A SMALL PLANET
To Purchase the soundtracks from this list, click on the CDTHE TOP PICKS1) THE BOOK THIEFPrice: $11.88It’s no easy task having to score the smartest creator who’s ever walked on our planet. But given an endlessly prolific bounty of inventive TV soundtracks for the genre likes of “Battlestar Galactica,” “The Walking Dead” and “Defiance,” the energy of Bear McCreary is a match well met for Leonardo Da Vinci. And we’re certainly not talking about an old guy with a beard here, but a robustly sexual scientific adventurer making a Wild West West impression on Renaissance-era Italy, courtesy of David Goyer’s imaginative historical reboot. Obviously, playing it straight with 14th century instruments isn’t going to do the trick with this approach. But denying them as well would be the height of our musical era’s hubris. McCreary’s wise choice is to combine both approaches to exhilarating effect, not only making his Emmy-nominated work breathlessly resonate with a feel of history, but also with the racing pulse of the guy creating the future well before its time. Religious choruses, violins, harpsichords and other era-specific instruments jet forward with orchestral rhythm that takes McCreary’s Phillip Glass-ian work on “Galactica” to a whole new level here, as rapturous, repetitive melody captures the political machinations that Da Vinci counters his foes with, mixing suspense, action and humor and a palindrome theme (able to be played backwards and forwards) into two CD’s of perpetual motion and interest. “Da Vinci’s Demons” is musical anachronism at its finest, practiced by a composer who continues to impress with indefatigable musical invention.
For his first story credit, Tom Cruise had the nifty idea of placing his “Top Gun” team into the rock-fueled world of NASCAR, from pedal-to-the-metal mega-producer Jerry Bruckheimer to director Tony Scott. But even if composer Harold Faltermeyer was missing from the below-the-line pit crew, his energetic Krautrock level of synth-groove propulsion would be more than juiced up by another German-to-Hollywood action émigré named Hans Zimmer. Having recently gone from the English arthouse likes of “Dark Obsession” and “Paperhouse” to LA’s go-to African guy with “A World Apart” and the Cruise-starring “Rain Man,” Zimmer was now making a fast break into the multiplex action with “Black Rain.” But it’s arguably the rocking score of “Days of Thunder” that firmly propelled him to the studio big leagues – and with good reason. In an era where longhair metal prog-rock scoring took pole position, Zimmer truly showed a talent for creating a great, blazing theme, then laying power-chord metal guitar and the state of the orchestra-synth art to drive his scores. Like the speed freak cousin of “Driving Miss Daisy,” Zimmer revs up the southern-centric rhythms for the NASCAR fan crowd into breathless, rocking momentum (its power chords supplied by no less than Jeff Beck), while also conveying some level of seriousness and reflection to the high stakes sport. If there’s a key to how enjoyable Zimmer’s early efforts are for all of the technical evolution his sound has gone through, then its just how melodic, and plain damn fun his late 80s / early 90s grooves are, no more so than in its pounding, long hair thrashing ten minute “Last Race.” If Zimmer’s latest, excellent score for the retro car racing drama “Rush” is about the U2 groove, than “Days of Thunder” stands as the Motley Crue version. Having done a great job with their complete presentation of Zimmer’s “Black Rain,” La La Land comes in first again with one of the composer’s most unabashedly energetic popcorn scores, even getting in David Covendale’s take on Zimmer’s theme (co-written by Billy Idol) “Last Night of Freedom,” with an extra flag wave for Tim Grieving’s excellent, entertaining liner notes that interview no less than Tom Cruise himself.
An iced cornucopia of The Magic Kingdom’s greatest fairy tale hits that reprises the Hans Christian Anderson “Little Mermaid” magic, “Frozen” brims over with cute sidekicks, a dashing hero and the upped ante of two princesses – one with a power that Professor Xavier would admire. It all makes for exactly the kind of pre-teen soundtrack catnip that set the studio’s animated standard for a reason, and is once again delivered at the height of hiply imaginative panache. “Frozen’s” memorable numbers have been co-written by the “Wonder Pets” duo of Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez (who also happen to have musical stage credits like “Book of Mormon” and “Transit” under their belts). Now this music power couple go from the winsomely sung Zooey Deschanel numbers of their sweetly folksy take on “Winnie the Pooh” to full-on “Beauty and the Beast” power ballads. Done at the height of “I want something better-than-this” sentiment, the Lopezes have a terrific girl power-belting duo in Kristen Bell and Idina Menzel, who’ve more than proved their musical chops on screen and stage with “Reefer Madness” and “Wicked.” Their characters’ sisterly numbers like “For the First Time in Forever,” “Love is an Open Door” and “Let it Go” are the wonderful stuff of cartoon heroines running up hilltops or bursting through doors, delivered with the kind of pleasant pop-orchestral energy that has been spun into Disney Radio gold by Demi Lovato. The guys get the pleasantly goofier stuff, with Jonathan Groff serenading that “Reindeer are Better Than People” and “Mormon’s” Josh Gad doing his musical comedy shtick as the singing snowman who dreams of surviving “In Summer.” Maia Wilson’s “Fixer Upper” likewise has a pleasantly jazzy groove that recalls the rhythmic energy of “Under the Sea,” showing off “Frozen’s” numbers as paying particularly nice tribute to the Ashman-Menken Disney songbook. The same bright, Menken scoring spirit can be found in sumptuous, bright abundance in Christophe Beck’s instrumental score. Having played snowy enchantment with “Fred Claus” and “Ice Princess,” “Frozen” marks Beck’s movie into a full-on Disney feature after his similarly enchanted score for the studio’s Oscar winning short “Paperman.” Magic abounds in Beck’s adventurously lush, magical approach that connotes the movie’s spell. While none too threatening, Beck gets across the menace of a giant iceman attack, the epically swirling scope of one princess’ unwanted power and the sweeping music that always has an unlikely couple kissing by the happy ending. It’s rousing, fantasy snowstuff on he order of Beck’s first “Percy Jackson” score, with the added interest of bringing out Anderson’s Nordic roots in his use of the Norwegian female Cantus choir and the country’s bukkelhorn, an ethnic instrument (and former ram’s horn) that Beck turns into the eerie voice of “Frozen’s” wintry spell. But whether the actors are singing for self-empowerment or the rousing score is conveying the wondrous eternal winter at hands, “Frozen” succeeds as exactly the kind of musical enchantment kids young and old hope to expect from the Disney holiday brand.
Where he was once known for musical Devo-lution, Mark Mothersbaugh has evolved into one of Hollywood’s most versatile composers, showing a colorful, chameleon-like range from “Safe’s” slam-bang urban action to the cartoon energy of “Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs” and “Rushmore’s” Baroque irony. Now given a trip to the Neon City with a bunch of very much breathing codgers, Mothersbaugh adapts quite nicely to the fender Rhodes organ funk that inflects just about every movie score to feature over-the-hill gangs from “Stand Up Guys” to “The Incredible Burt Wonderstone” and any number of “Oceans” sequels. But then again, what better style to capture the retro groove of graying cocks of the walk, or The Strip in this case? “Last Vegas’” bachelor party puts a jazzily familiar, and very fun spring into their step, conveying the characters’ make-it-or-break-it weekend with both contagious, comedic zing and the nicely melodic schmaltz of strings, guitar and piano that get across the real desperation at hand. Like the movie, Mothersbaugh’s approach is as obvious as it is likeable, full of nothing but its utter, successful confidence in giving listeners a good time with the tried and true as the guys put wood back into their pencils. But if there’s a straight flush on the table, then it goes to the sparkling voice of Mary Steenburgen, who effortlessly puts sweet cougar sensuality into her role as the singer who captures the crew’s attention, especially with her renditions of such standards as “Cup of Trouble, “I Only Have Eyes For You” and uptempo and sultrily slow versions of “Only You.” It’s Steenburgen’s feminine touch that help makes “Last Vegas” a listen worth re-visiting.
Having made his breakthrough score with the innovative Britain prison bust-out of “The Escapist,” Englishman Benjamin Wallfisch makes a notable return to confined spaces with his desperate musical “Hours.” What makes his score particularly intriguing, and effective, is that said penitentiary is actually a post-Katrina hospital in New Orleans, where Paul Walker’s bereft husband find himself virtually chained to the respirator keeping his newborn son alive. Music is also vital in keeping company for virtual one-character dramas of this sort, and Wallfisch does a powerful job of ticking down one man’s emotionally draining journey, all while keeping soundtrack interest very much alive by segueing from pulse-quickening percussive suspense to the piano, violins and child-like bells for the innocent life he takes himself to the limit for, and the dreams of his dead wife that keep him going. It’s a powerful ticking clock that swings from sentiment to danger, the melody as capable of taking on the beautiful half-dream state that comes with no sleep as it is the harsh samples and dangerous orchestral swells of the human flotsam that comes in with the flood waters. But unlike this ordeal, Wallfisch’s score is a grippingly dramatic, often poignantly beautiful score that’s certainly no endurance test to listen to, especially in the final, transcendent symphonic cue that seemingly takes us heaven after fighting a battle for two lives, a terrific musical payoff for what both the character, and composer have put themselves through in this thoroughly intimate disaster film.
After his terrific work on “Emperor,” composer Alex Heffes continues on a historical roll, now turning his focus from a colonized post WW2 Japan to the Afrikaaner police state that was only overturned in fairly recent history by Nelson Mandela, with no small amount of support from his wife Winnie. Heffes hears his “Long Walk To Freedom” with a mighty, upraised musical fist, his score tone indebted to both the longtime symphonic approach of historical epics, as well as the pulsing samples of contemporary thrillers. The impassioned, orchestral march and tender emotion of this oppressed power couple are given a memorable, gutsy theme from Heffes, heroism that’s mixed with the darkness of just how far a Ghandi-esque approach to resistance will go for them. And when the Mandelas are thrown into the hole of a police state prison, guitars and doom-laden strings powerfully mark their unimaginable time. It’s a melodic soulfulness that remains unbroken as Nelson turns big rocks into little ones, the score always moving forward with the momentum of his surety in ultimate justice. While an African voice opens the score, and tribal percussion surfaces for the resistance, Heffes mostly takes a western-style approach. It’s appropriate for a subjugated land, while also making the music all of the more accessible, and relentlessly impactful as it pays off the emotional goods a biopic demands. Heffes truly embodies Mandela with the kind of heroic fierceness that’s all about sacrificing oneself to a just cause, his score making us understand that lion-like spirit with a moving, melodic power that never feels as if it’s part of the past. “Mandela” has stirring force of the best biopic scores, celebrating and making us feel the anguish of every step of Africa’s most important, and continuing walk.
Where Alexandre Desplat’s Oscar attention-getter last year was the heavy duty “Zero Dark Thirty,” the most definitely lighter “Philomena” is likely to get similar notice for its often whimsical, if bittersweet quality. For the track-down here is of the son of an Irishwoman forced long ago to give up her kin to a religiously repressive society. Philomena’s American road trip with an English writer has a fun sense of child-like discovery with bells and charmingly driving rhythmic momentum – of course with a notable theme that’s always behind always behind the melodic wheel. As he’s shown in the similarly empathic scores for “Julia and Julia” and “Coco Avant Chanel” (let alone for “Philomena” director Stephen Frear’s “The Queen,” “Cheri” and “Tamara Drewe”). Yet as bouncy as “Philomena” might be, the score is also full of regret, with some truly dark writing a la Bernard Herrmann, by way of John Barry’s lush strings. Yet it’s a mystery that’s also musically hopeful of the man that Philomena’s boy might have become. Desplat’s also come up with another wonderful waltz-melody, which also gets double duty as carousel calliope. Desplat is at his poignant best in “Philomena,” a score full of touching regret as it is sprightly optimism, making this Frenchman a woman’s composer second to none.
Holiday cheer is now abounding at Intrada Records with the recent releases of Alan Silvestri’s “A Christmas Carol” and Bruce Broughton’s “The Thanksgiving Promise.” But perhaps their most unexpected early present to arrive is Maurice Jarre’s score for 1989s “Prancer.” While this tale of a reindeer that may or may not be Santa’s favorite beast of burden might not have the cult cache of “A Christmas Story,” “Prancer” is certainly a chestnut for the cable generation. The star at the top of its feel-good Xmas tree is a truly beautiful score by Maurice Jarre. Then at the height of his “electronic” period after such scores as “Witness” and “The Mosquito Coast,” Jarre had the ability to take a sound perhaps more suited for genre films and apply their ethereal quality on top of a true orchestra for such tender, dramatic pictures like “Dead Poets Society” and “Gorillas in the Midst.” “Prancer” stirringly falls into the magical realm of Jarre’s “Ghost” and “Almost An Angel,” where kind souls encounter the fantastical. Here it’s St. Nick on the hoof, and the magic of Christmas that he brings to a little girl. Jarre employs glistening bell percussion, electronic horns and voice-like synths with nostalgic melody, seamlessly exchanging their gifts with lush strings and piano, along with the darkness of the threat of those who see Prancer as reindeer steak. At its best, “Prancer’s” warmly drifting music brings to mind the bonding between astronaut and Drac in Jarre’s “Enemy Mine,” except here the growing warmth is between girl and Santa’s helper. “Prancer” glides on pure sentimental charm and carol-like rhythms as Jarre opens his heart and breaks out the sleigh bell chorus to the possibility of miracles, with a richness of gossamer sound both human, and enchanted – though how “Mysteries of Love” from “Twin Peaks” figures into this still remains a mystery to me.
Where Georges Delerue had earthbound romance aplenty on his resume in both France and Hollywood, the one genre that was practically absent from his resume was science fiction (though the talking cetaceans of “Day of the Dolphin” could count). This makes Music Box’s ultra-limited release of “Les Visiteurs” a revelation on the musical order of hearing Delerue’s tunes at Devil’s Tower, though one can certainly expect his lush, beautifully flowing melodies instead of tone rows when it comes to welcoming the white suit-clad alien emissaries of this 1980 French TV miniseries. Their world-hopping chase accounts for the harmonica, classical quartet, a tango, and jazz pieces, which are heard in delightful, contrast to Delerues’ inimitable, flowing talent for orchestral melody. Graced with a sparkling, transcendent theme that speaks for the kind of Nirvanic intelligence that only space travelers seem to possess above us brutish earthlings, Delerue impresses with his eerie use of rubbed glass, and combinations of electronic and orchestral music, it’s shivering quality and a zither (sounding just like the sci-fi staple Theremin), reminiscent of Barry Gray’s music for the British series “UFO.” But even with “Les Visiteurs” human-alien body swap detective plot prefiguring “The Hidden’s,” asking for more of a darkly pessimistic Delerue score when encountering E.T.’s is like thinking there’s no hope for the universe, as the composer’s energetic spirit gives buoyant, soulfully emotional uplift by score’s end – again with a Baroque inflection that made Delerue one of the great classicist-cum-movie composers. It’s an especially impactful touch to this little gem of a score that most fans likely didn’t know existed. Ditto Delerue’s 1972 TV horror miniseries score for “The Man Who Came Back from Death,” wherein a spirit takes vengeance on a brother who’s living the good chateau life. Delerue delicately balances chills with beauty and subtle, spooky-ooky humor, offering a delicate waltz and harp percussion that floats along with eerie zither and strings, all capped off by rhythmically impactful end title. It’s the music of a classic ghost story, prefiguring the lyrical darkness for Delerue’s unused score to “Something Wicked This Way Comes.” An example of genre music in the most delicate of hands, “Les Visiteurs” and “The Man Who Came Back From Death” revel in a lyrical approach to the fantastic, capturing as much melodic poetry as Delerue would give to any romantic subject.
Kritzerland is proving to be the France of retro record labels by being just about the first company to get into the Jerry Lewis soundtrack musical catalogue, first with Walter Scharf’s delightful “The Geisha Boy,” and now with the double-header of “Visit to a Small Planet” and “The Delicate Delinquent,” two scores that reflect Lewis’ wacky ingenuity. The star often had fun playing off of movie genres, and his chance to indulge in sci-fi tropes is also heard in the absolute delight that composer Leigh Harline has in making hay with aliens-among-us clichés, as particularly heard in The Theremin. Its bizarre electronic oscillations had become the rage with The Day the Earth Stood Still.” But even Bernard Herrmann didn’t give that instrument the workout that Harline does here, with solos galore for the floating and wall-walking antics of Lewis’ Krelton. When it comes to the far more human orchestral players, Harline gives “Planet” a giddy, pizzicato-pokey touch that’s nothing but pure cartoon sweetness, fitting for a composer who got his start with Walt Disney. Selection of lounge-beat jazz by the likes of Johnny Mandell and Victor Young give that soundtrack the kind of swinging hepness that Lewis would really take to town as “The Nutty Professor” later on. You can also imagine Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim giving a listen to Buddy Bregman’s score to “The Delicate Delinquent,” with its rollicking Latin samba beat depiction of juvenile malfeasance, which could just as well capture the swagger of Bernardo and The Sharks. “Delinquent” marks the first release of any score from this arranger / producer for Ella Fitzgerald and Cole Porter, and it’s the epitome of everything that was wonderful about comedy scoring’s jazz era. Lewis is once again given a sweet orchestral touch, his hapless bumbling hit with lurching, exasperated snares and strings that could just as well befall Elmer Fudd. The “Delinquent’s” bumbling attempts to reform himself at the Police Academy also give Bregman that chance to blunder about with patriotic military marches, while a “Bout” surprises with Sumo-sized Asian percussion. A thoroughly delightful listen from space to earth, one can only hope that Kritzerland continues to release these gems from the film repertoire of a human cartoon that inspired similar zaniness from the composers.
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