Movie Music U.K. As Heard In The Film 2001
SERENDIPITY 
ALAN SILVESTRI
Alan Silvestri and romantic comedies go together like ham and eggs, or Siskel and Ebert. The latest in a long line of such assignments is Serendipity, a film which rekindles the old "fate will bring true love together" scenario which worked so well in Sleepless in Seattle and the like. John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale star as Jonathan Trager and Sara Thomas, who meet one night while Christmas shopping in New York and have an immediate attraction. After spending a magical evening together in the Big Apple, Sara suddenly decides to let fate take a hand in their future and - writing their respective contact details on a bank note and the dust jacket of a book - decrees that if lady luck decides to bring the information back to them, they are destined to be together. Years later, Jonathan and Sara have settled down... each with different partners - Jonathan is about to get married to the lovely Halley (Bridget Moynihan) and Sara is engaged to Swedish rock star Lars (John Corbett). However, both of then still remember their night in the city that never sleeps and, egged on by their respective best friends Dean and Eve (Jeremy Piven and Molly Shannon), decide to have one final attempt at finding each other. It's a feather-light, heart-warming motion picture that appeals to hopeless romantic everywhere - Cusack and Beckinsale are both appealing, endearing, and funny in their lead roles, going about business like a cut-price Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan pairing. There's a hilarious cameo from Eugene Levy as a fastidious Bloomingdales store clerk, and director Peter Chelsom keeps things moving with a brisk pace and using a rose-tinted lens which, somewhat unusually, digitally removed the World Trade Center from the NY skyline post-September 11th. Silvestri's score is sweetness and light all the way, mixing sparkling West Side jazz with an affecting piano and string wash. It pushes all the right buttons at all the right times and is especially effective during the climactic reuniting scene in Central Park. The soundtrack unfortunately falls victim to the old nostalgic romantic ballad scenario, bringing together artists as diverse as David Gray, Annie Lennox and Louis Armstrong. One track of score - the cue "Fast Forward" - is tagged on the end, and you can listen to an MP3 of it by clicking here.
BANDITS
CHRISTOPHER YOUNG
REVIEW COMING SOON
THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING
HOWARD SHORE
REVIEW COMING SOON
THE 51st STATE
CASPER KEDROS and DARIUS KEDROS
REVIEW COMING SOON
SPY GAME
HARRY GREGSON-WILLIAMS
REVIEW COMING SOON
HARRY POTTER AND THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE
JOHN WILLIAMS
REVIEW COMING SOON
THE OTHERS
ALEJANDRO AMENÁBAR
REVIEW COMING SOON
THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF
JOSEPH LO DUCA
REVIEW COMING SOON
JEEPERS CREEPERS
BENNETT SALVAY
REVIEW COMING SOON
THE PLEDGE
HANS ZIMMER and KLAUS BADELT
REVIEW COMING SOON
ENIGMA
JOHN BARRY
REVIEW COMING SOON
A.I. ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE
JOHN WILLIAMS
REVIEW COMING SOON
HEARTBREAKERS
JOHN DEBNEY and DANNY ELFMAN
REVIEW COMING SOON
A KNIGHT'S TALE
CARTER BURWELL
REVIEW COMING SOON
MOULIN ROUGE
CRAIG ARMSTRONG
Moulin Rouge is a love it or hate it movie. Just to be awkward, I find myself stuck between the two emotions - parts of it are undeniably amazing, with a visual flair as a good as anything seen since the days of Busby Berkeley and with musical brilliance that takes the breath away, while other parts are hamstrung and rendered unwatchable by overly-elaborate editing and moments of unintentional(?) comedy. Ewan McGregor stars as Christian, a penniless writer who travels from England to turn-of-the-century France in search of inspiration. A hopeless romantic, Christian makes friends with the legendary bohemian artist Henri Toulouse-Lautec (John Leguizamo) and becomes immersed in the world of the Moulin Rouge, Paris's most famous and decadent night club, owned by the flamboyant showman Harold Zigler (Jim Broadbent). Talked into to writing a new play for the Moulin, Christian finds himself falling in love with the clubs star, a beautiful courtesan named Satine (Nicole Kidman) - despite the fact that Satine has been promised to the wealthy Duke of Monroth (Richard Roxburgh), a man she does not love. As a film experience, Moulin Rouge does take some sticking with, but once you reconcile yourself to the fact that most of the screenplay is made up of song lyrics, there is much to enjoy. Director Baz Luhrmann had turned the lenses which made Romeo + Juliet into a modern fairytale onto the legendary red windmill, lending it a resplendent, if a little chaotic, look. It is a riot of colour, abstract camera angles and dizzying editing cuts which for some may prove more nauseating than appealing, but this is Luhrmann's trademark. You either like it or you don't. I wouldn't be surprised to see technical Oscars heading this way though, especially for the sumptuous production and costume design. Craig Armstrong, in collaboration with fellow composers Marius De Vreis, Steve Hitchcock, Christopher Gordon and others, has crystallised dozens and dozens of familiar pop and rock ballads with his stirring orchestral compositional style to create a totally unique original song score. Most of the music in the film is performed on-screen by the actors, and their voices are good. The numerous performances of "Come What May" are undoubtedly the highlights of the film itself, with both Kidman and McGregor delivering knockout vocal performances that overflow with emotion. Similarly, Armstrong's tango arrangement of Sting's "Roxanne" is stunning (as is its vocal performance by actor Jacek Koman), Jim Broadbent's perverse refrain of Madonna's "Like A Virgin" is hilarious, the soaring string underscore to the "Elephant Love Medley" heart-stopping, and some of the emotional scenes between Christian and Satine are scored with consummate beauty. The end credits sequence features an extended score suite replete with the might of the Australian orchestra and, echoing the modernistic tones of the film itself, a bank of pulsating synthesisers. The soundtrack CD, unfortunately, is an infuriating mix of songs from the film and commercial cover versions: the holy quartet of Christina Aguilera, Mya, Pink and Lil' Kim performing the smash hit "Lady Marmalade" is intact, as are the Kidman/McGregor duets of "Come What May" and the "Elephant Love Medley". The rest, however, are public-friendly renditions designed to sell records, including Beck's "Diamond Dogs", David Bowie's "Nature Boy" and versions of "Children of the Revolution". No score either - not even the excellent end credits piece - although a promo may be in the offing soon.
ANGEL EYES
MARCO BELTRAMI
One of the common misconceptions around these days is that, because she is now a multi-million selling pop star and tabloid favourite, Jennifer Lopez can't act. Angel Eyes, the latest film from Mexican director Luis Mandoki, proves not only that she can act, but that she can carry a movie on the weight of her performance. Always good at coaxing excellent performances from surprising actresses (Melanie Griffith, Meg Ryan, Robin Wright), Mandoki casts Lopez as Chicago cop Sharon Pogue, a workaholic whose turbulent family life is tempered by her dedication to the job. Things change for Sharon, however, when she is saved from being shot by a mysterious stranger named Catch (Jim Caviezel), an enigmatic drifter who walks the streets as a "guardian angel", helping people in any way he can. Slowly, Sharon and Catch develop a friendship, and a romance, but Sharon is frustrated by Catch's refusal to reveal anything about his past to her, throwing her personal life into turmoil. In addition to this, Sharon also finds her own past catching up with her, in the shape of her mother (Sonia Braga) and wife-beating father (Victor Argo), who come looking to affect a reconciliation after years of estrangement. In other hands, Angel Eyes could easily have been nothing more than a weepie-of-the-week, but with Mandoki at the helm, it turns out to be one of the best romantic melodramas of the year. The supernatural elements of the film seemingly indicated in the trailer are a falsehood - this is a straightforward tale of turbulent relationships and how they are overcome - but the depth of emotion and strength of performance invested in them is what lifts it above the usual Hollywood fluff. It also seems as though I have developed an affinity for the screenwriting of Gerald Di Pego, whose last few movies - Phenomenon, Message in a Bottle, Instinct - I have appreciated and enjoyed tremendously. Di Pego has a wonderful knack of mixing the ordinary with the metaphysical to create an extraordinary dream-like texture to his work. Musically, too Angel Eyes excels, with Italian/American composer Marco Beltrami writing what could very well be his most beautiful score to date. We know he can do horror, as the Scream trilogy and Mimic attest, and we know he has an innovative touch when he wants one - listen to The Minus Man for one of his most creative and abstract works. On Angel Eyes, however, he goes for the heart, and succeeds totally with a succession of beautiful themes and superb orchestral phrases. The main title offers a taste of things to come with a mesmerising vocal performance over a tragically attractive string melody, but reaches its zenith during the romantic interludes between Sharon and Catch, during which an expressive piano theme intertwines with the sweep of a full orchestra. Their first embrace in her apartment, the lovemaking scene at the lake, and several other occasions all reach hitherto unheard heights of Beltrami brilliance. One action sequence, for the chase scene in the disused stadium, raises the tempo a little, but for the most part Angel Eyes is a score all about passion - something I didn't think Beltrami had in him. The soundtrack, on the Warner/Atlantic label, unfortunately features only the Main Title from Beltrami's score, focusing instead on commercial song releases. Tamara Walker's lovely "Angel Eyes" plays over the end credits, and is the highlight of a CD populated by songs from LeAnn Rimes, Etta James, Johnny Nash and others. This is a score which BEGS for a promo - Beltrami's work is simply too good to be ignored, and is one of the nicest surprises of the year. Click here to listen to an MP3 of the Main Title music.
PLANET OF THE APES
DANNY ELFMAN
Tim Burton took a huge gamble in remaking Planet of the Apes, Franklin J. Schaffner's classic science fiction allegory from 1968. Burton chose to "re-imagine" the saga - note the difference - and bring his unique visual flair to the now-familiar story of a world where the roles of simians and humans are reversed. Up until the final reel, Burton succeeds totally - failing only with a miserable shock ending that is confusing rather than cathartic in the way the Heston Statue of Liberty was seen. In the new film, Mark Wahlberg stars as Captain Leo Davidson, a dashing air force pilot on a mission in space who is sucked through a "wormhole" in time and unceremoniously dumped on an alien world. With his spacecraft trashed, Davidson explores his new environment, and discovers a civilization where apes are dominant, and humans are kept as either slaves or pets. In the Ape City, Davidson is made the property of slave trader Limbo (Paul Giamatti), meets fellow humans Daena (Estella Warren), but incurs the wrath of the vicious General Thade (Tim Roth), a psychotic chimpanzee with a predilection for genocide, and his ill-tempered gorilla-at-arms Attar (Michael Clarke Duncan). However, he finds an unlikely ally in Ari (Helena Bonham-Carter), a sympathetic female ape, who helps him and his fellow slaves escape from the city, towards freedom and a way home... In the grand scheme of things, Burton's version of POTA will not be remembered as fondly as Schaffner's - although technically superior in every respect, all bar one the performances are underwhelming, and the screenplay by William Broyles, Lawrence Konner and Mark Rosenthal eschews many of the social and political issues found in Pierre Boule's original novel in favour of mindless action. In fact, the two main reasons for watching this movie are Rick Baker and Tim Roth. The former, whose stunning ape designs have graced such films as Greystoke, Harry and the Hendersons, Gorillas in the Mist, and Mighty Joe Young, has surpassed himself here, and is GUARANTEED to pick up his seventh Oscar next spring. The attention to detail, the realism, and the expressiveness on the faces of the characters playing the apes are nothing short of breathtaking. Tim Roth, playing Thade, is the best of all - a seething mass of coiled energy and pure evil who hisses through his snout and glares menacingly at all who cross him. Roth hasn't been this dastardly since Rob Roy, but to be so overpoweringly scary while buried underneath piles of latex is a feat indeed. Planet of the Apes mimics the 1968 film closest in its music, with Danny Elfman attempting to re-create the primal, percussive violence of Jerry Goldsmith's original here. The main title is fantastic - a wonderful amalgam of a plethora of pots and kettles clanging and banging away as the camera pans across an expressive gorilla face - and there are several scintillating action sequences, as the humans are hunted by the apes, and during the elongated finale battle. At the other end of the scale, there is a soft string theme (with hints of Batman) to illustrate the peculiar love triangle between Leo, Ari and Daena, which appears from time to time during the quieter moments of reflection and potential romance. But these do not last long - Elfman's score is generally all about seething orchestral power and percussive carnage. The end titles are also worth noting, featuring as they do an excellent techno remix of the main theme by dance music guru Paul Oakenfold - genuinely one of the best such mixes I have ever heard. The album, on Sony Classical, is all score.
THE PAROLE OFFICER
ALEX HEFFES
In Britain, comedian Steve Coogan is famous for three characters whose comic misadventures have entered the mainstream: obnoxious regional radio DJ Alan Partridge, Portuguese pop star Tony Ferrino, and husband-and-wife video diary makers Paul and Pauline Calf, all of whom starred in faux documentaries as supposedly "real" people. Now, in an attempt to break into the global mainstream after a cameo in The Indian in the Cupboard, Coogan has made The Parole Office, a heist comedy set in Manchester. Coogan plays Simon Garden, a not-terribly-successful probation officer who is transferred from Blackpool to Manchester after yet another disastrous consultation. After an encounter with a teenage joyrider, Simon accidentally finds himself caught in the middle of an extortion racket led by chief detective Burton (Stephen Dillane), and being framed for a murder he did not commit. His only chance to clear his name is to obtain a CCTV video tape showing what really happened - but, in order to obtain it, he needs to rob a bank. Having never committed a crime in his life, Simon finds himself turning to some of his old clients (Om Puri, Steven Waddington, Ben Miller) for help in setting up the heist - but in doing so, may incur the wrath of his new potential girlfriend, PC Emma (Lena Headey). The Parole Officer is directed by Aussie John Duigan - an unlikely choice for the man behind Wide Sargasso Sea and Sirens - but whose cinematic skill gives the film a polished sheen, and whose reputation has somehow managed to attract luminaries such as Jenny Agutter and Omar Sharif to give cameo appearances. The screenplay, by Coogan and regular writing partner Henry Normal, paints Simon Garden as an irritating everyman whose eagerness to please makes everyone dislike him more and more. There are several moments of laugh-out-loud comic genius: the entire sequence in the lapdancing club is hilarious, the incident with the African fertility statue had me chortling, and the ride the Simon and George take on the big dipper at Blackpool Pleasure Beach will have you giggling in a combination of humour and disgust. The heist itself is well staged and adds a new facet to Coogan's talents as a potential action hero. He wears a tank-top some of the time, but it's a start at least. The music for The Parole Officer is by up-and-coming British composer Alex Heffes, who wrote the score for the Oscar-winning documentary One Day in September, and who has worked with Simon Boswell in the past. Heffes's score is actually more like a Western than anything else - he accentuates the heroism of Garden's situation with a brilliantly overblown Elmer Bernstein pastiche, all soaring strings and pompous brass fanfares. Elsewhere, Heffes provides a series of tight electronic action cues, notably for the opening car chase sequence, and endows the blossoming relationship between Simon and Emma with a lovely romantic theme - note the scene where they kiss in his hallway. The other selling point is a new version of Bangles' "Eternal Flame" performed by Atomic Kitten, and which plays over the end credits. Unfortunately, no soundtrack release is scheduled at the moment.
RUSH HOUR 2
LALO SCHIFRIN
Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker are back in Rush Hour 2, Brett Ratner's fun-filled sequel to the surprise 1998 smash hit action-comedy. This time, Hong Kong detective Lee (Chan) and LAPD officer Carter (Tucker) are on Lee's home patch, engaging in a bit of Oriental rest and relaxation. However, when a bomb explodes at the American embassy in Kowloon, Lee and Carter are thrown headlong into an international plot, trying to track down the bombers, crack a counterfeiting ring, and crossing paths with wealthy businessman Ricky Tan (John Lone), vicious female Triad leader Hu Li (Zhang Ziyi from Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon), and customs agent Isabella Molina (Roselyn Sanchez) - who may not be all she seems. As the plot skips from South East Asia to LA and Las Vegas, director Ratner and screenwriter Jeff Nathanson give Chan and Tucker the opportunity to do what they do best: death defying stunts and smart-mouthed comments. Although he's pushing 50, Jackie Chan still has the agility of an acrobat - some of the choreography of the fight scenes has to be seen to be believed (especially the bamboo scaffolding sequence, the massage parlour fight, and the scene backstage at the casino. Plot-wise there's not much to go on: this is a vehicle for the stars to show off their physical and verbal dexterity, with the screenplay simply acting as a device to link one set-piece to the next. Chris Tucker is as annoying as ever, but some of his one-liners are priceless; debutante Roselyn Sanchez is alluring as the Puerto Rican customs officer with the hots for Jackie; John Lone is an unusual bad guy in that he is probably the least menacing person in the film; and Zhang Ziyi has little to do except look mean, wear leather, and kick Chris Tucker in the face a few times - her star will surely rise further in future. Musically, Rush Hour 2 is a reworking of Rush Hour 1, with Argentinean maestro Lalo Schifrin once again revisiting the funky rhythms he wrote for the original with pulsating panache. The main theme has an oriental spin in the main title this time through the addition of ethnic soloists to the mix, the action music features the unique yet familiar staccato hits that have defined his style over the years, and there are some welcome recapitulations of the central theme to accompany the globetrotting of the comedy cops. The one moment of pure pathos, when Tucker and Lee argue outside the airport, is surprisingly effective both musically and dramatically - you really feel for the breakdown in the friendship as Schifrin's strings rise in lament. The main soundtrack release is one of those pointless Def-Jam concoctions, released in the hope that Chris Tucker fans will invest in a cache of rap and R&B songs totally unrelated to the movie - Method Man, LL Cool J, Jill Scott, Macy Gray and others contribute to the cash-in. Thankfully, Varese have also released an album of Schifrin's score.
SWORDFISH
CHRISTOPHER YOUNG and PAUL OAKENFOLD
A hi-tech thriller from Dominic Sena, the director of Kalifornia and Gone In 60 Seconds, Swordfish stars Hugh Jackman as Stanley Jobson, formerly one of the world's foremost computer hackers, who is lured out of retirement by super-suave Gabriel Shear (John Travolta) and his super-sexy assistant Ginger (Halle Berry), with the promise of seeing his daughter again as bait. Drawn into Shear's world, it transpires that Gabriel wants Stanley to help him steal $9.5 billion from a super-secure, highly-encrypted bank account somewhere in the USA - but the motives are unclear. Is Shear an international terrorist, as dogged FBI Agent Roberts (Don Cheadle) believes? And if so, why is the ageing Senator Reisman (Sam Shepard) also involved in the Shear's activities? To answer these questions would spoil what is ultimately a highly enjoyable and engaging movie, with enough style and stunts to entertain the most jaded viewer. Travolta revisits his Vincent Vega style of acting from Pulp Fiction, allowing Shear to develop a cocky bravado which masks his true intentions. Skip Woods' intelligent screenplay also allows Travolta the chance to chew the scenery with a few dashing speeches - notably one where he laments the state of the Hollywood studio system and the fact that they make "unbelievable, unremarkable shit". After the lacklustre 60 Seconds, Sena's direction is much more controlled and tight on this film, rarely resorting to the flashy editing and dumb action that flattened that film. Just one shot - the 360º explosion sequence - could be construed as "showing off", but it's a one-off in a film which is for the most part believably realistic. Jackman and Berry are fine in their roles, British soccer star Vinnie Jones has another excellent cameo as one of Shear's heavies, and the whole thing finishes with a satisfying twist. Musically, Swordfish is an unusual amalgam, taking the broad orchestral palette of composer Christopher Young and mixing it with the ambient sounds of top British dance music DJ Paul Oakenfold. Young's efforts are typical of the genre - at times, it reminded me of a more upbeat and poppy version of his score for Hard Rain, especially through the consistent use of pulsing rhythms from basses and cellos in some of the action and chase sequences - and the clever collaboration between the two works well. Young provides the emotional and thematic core of the film with his score, while Oakenfold's remit was to spice up Young's work and give it a contemporary kick with the beds of synthesisers, ambient trance moods and hyped-up electronic beats for which he is internationally renowned. The album, on the London/Sire label, is a combination of score cues by Oakenfold (the thunderous "Dark Machine", the hypnotic "Password"), several re-mixes of artists such as Dope Smugglaz, Jan Johnston, Muse and Afrika Bambaata, and a couple of combination cues featuring Young's re-dubbed music ("The Chase", "Stanley's Theme"). Hopefully, a promo of the score itself will emerge from the ether shortly.
BLOW
GRAEME REVELL
In many ways, Blow is to the drug trade what GoodFellas was to the Mafia: a story about a generally decent man who, with success, is corrupted by power and greed. Directed by Ted Demme (The Ref, Beautiful Girls, Life), the film tells the true story of George Jung (Johnny Depp), an intelligent kid from a loving home who, almost inadvertently, originates the American drug trafficking system while living in Los Angeles in the early 1970s. Over the course of the next 20 years or so, Jung endures the various ups and downs his life as a drug dealer brings: despite the fabulous wealth he attains, Jung still has to cope with the death of his first love Barbara (Franka Potente); the shame he brings upon his family (father Ray Liotta and mother Rachel Griffiths); his turbulent relationship with a beautiful Colombian moll (Penélope Cruz); and his eventual betrayal by his partner Diego (Jordi Mollá) that leads to him being given a life sentence in prison. Depp's excellent, sympathetic lead performance is marred only by a series of atrocious haircuts (several of which come courtesy of fellow drug dealer and effete crimper Derek Foreal, played by Paul Reubens), and the screenplay by David McKenna and Nick Cassavetes is realistic and convincing, even if Jung is generally shown in a light which makes him out to be nothing more than a decent enough chap in over his head, ignoring the fact that wholesale products he supplied were intoxicating and killing a whole generation of American teenagers. That said, Blow is still an interesting insight into the drug culture that existed during the decade, and the men who helped make it hip to be stoned. I have to admit that Graeme Revell's contribution to Blow completely passed me by. Whether this is a good thing or a bad thing I'm not sure - it could be that his score sits so seamlessly in with the dozens and dozens of period pop tunes chosen by music supervisor Amanda Scheer Demme that it fulfils its objectives superbly - never making a blatant statement of its own, and keeping in tone with the source tracks. On the other hand, I would at least expect to remember some detail of the music as it stands - ultimately, the only cue I remember in any way is the lovely orchestral track for the finale sequence of Jung working in the prison garden and dreaming of his daughter. Song-wise, the soundtrack is a veritable nostalgia overload, with a plethora of songs by The Rolling Stones, The Faces, Manfred Mann, Cream, KC & the Sunshine Band, Lynyrd Skynyrd and Bob Dylan littering the spin-off CD. Naturally, none of Revell's score is on there.
VALENTINE
DON DAVIS
I so envy Jamie Blanks. Having to direct the lovely Denise Richards in a sequence where she is attacked, semi-naked, in a jacuzzi must have been one of the worst days of his working career. Basically, Valentine is an excuse for lots of nubile young actors and actresses to show their stuff in a stalk-and-slash horror movie that rehashes much of Blanks's earlier feature Urban Legend, as well as the early 1980s teen flicks Friday the 13th and Prom Night. The premise is simple: four friends from high school (Marley Shelton, Jessica Capshaw, Jessica Cauffiel, the aforementioned Richards) each receive disturbingly gruesome valentine cards in the mail - all seemingly from a boy they cruelly snubbed on school prom night a decade earlier. Then, one by one, the girls and their associates are picked off by a knife-wielding maniac in a cherub mask, until a Valentine's Day party allows the remaining girls, plus boyfriend Adam (David "Angel" Boreanaz), a final opportunity to unmask the killer and stop the slaughter. There's very little more to say about Valentine than that, really. People get killed in unusual and gruesome ways (crossbow, broken glass door, fire axe), the killer says very little but bleeds from the right nostril whenever the stakes are raised, David Boreanaz gets to look all mean and moody, and the girls get to pout, wear tight tops and run about screaming. What more could one want? Apparently, the screenplay was based on a popular pulp novel by Tom Savage. All I can say is that they must have done some judicious pruning. Don Davis went down the tried-and-tested horror route for Valentine, and produced a score which conforms to every horror movie musical cliché - but has enough of a post-modern spin to keep it interesting. The orchestra roars and screams at every opportunity, tracking the stoic cherub through medical morgues, disused corridors and avant-garde art galleries with enough force and gusto to allow the audience to feel something vaguely approaching the fear and excitement the director intended. The main theme is obviously modelled on Chris Young's cooing choir from Urban Legend, while the rest of the time the music simply accentuates the shock cuts and adds "atmosphere" to the proceedings. Coming off the back of scores such as House on Haunted Hill, Davis obviously has a horror pedigree, but Valentine is nevertheless a little below what one would expect from him. Unfortunately, none of Davis's score made it onto the Valentine soundtrack CD - instead, rock and metal efforts from Rob Zombie, Marilyn Manson, Linkin Park, Orgy and other wholesome, family-oriented artists pad out the running time.
BRIDGET JONES'S DIARY
PATRICK DOYLE
Based on Helen Fielding's extremely successful and popular newspaper column about an insecure London thirtysomething, Bridget Jones's Diary takes a wry look at the lot of a woman on the edge: an overweight, chain-smoking, "singleton" whose career is in free-fall and whose comic misadventures would make even the most hardy soul curl up in embarrassment. Renee Zellweger stars as the eponymous Jones, whose life revolves around drinking sessions with her mates, miming to pop music in her pyjamas, indulging in failed romances, and keeping track of her daily cigarette and alcohol intake. Things change, however, when Bridget's boss at the publishing company, the suave Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant), takes an interest in her and they embark upon an affair... but could it be that the dour Mark Darcy (Colin Firth) has also taken a shine to our Bridge? And, if so, will she be able to see past the reindeer jumper and sarcastic comments to the real Mr. Darcy inside...? With a first-rate screenplay by Four Weddings scribe Richard Curtis and clever direction from first-timer Sharon Maguire, Bridget Jones is undoubtedly one of the comedy highlights of 2001. Much is made of comedy with a "cringe factor", and Bridget Jones contains several such moments: the book launch with Mr. Titspervert, the tarts & vicars party that turns out not to be quite as Bridget planned, and Bridget's unorthodox debut on Sit Up Britain all spring to mind. There are also several moments of wonderfully observed realism and truthfulness which make the film poignant and honest - any "singleton" who has mimed into a hairbrush will surely be able to relate to the situations in which Bridget finds herself. The trio of core performances - Zellweger, Grant and Firth - are all excellent, with Zellweger especially capturing both Bridget's estuary English accent and personal neuroses perfectly, and there is terrific support from Jim Broadbent as Bridget's depressed dad, Sally Phillips as her foul-mouthed best friend Sharon, and cameos from Honor Blackman, Salman Rushdie and Jeffrey Archer! The top-selling soundtrack, on the Mercury label, is a song compilation with one score track. The songs range from pop mainstays (Jamie O'Neal's "All By Myself", Chrissie Hynde's "Don't Get Me Wrong", Aretha Franklin's "RESPECT") to modern updates of karaoke classics (Geri Halliwell's infectious "It's Raining Men"), and a couple of new tracks penned especially for the film, notably the Robbie Williams duo of "Not of This Earth" and "Have You Met Miss Jones" with its big band stylings. Patrick Doyle's contribution is minimal but effective, weaving in and out of the songs with style and ease. His most notable effort is the score's romantic theme, an graceful and elegant melody performed by a combination of acoustic guitar, soft woodwinds and gentle strings, and which receives its most poignant performance during the end scene of Bridget running through the snowy streets of London in her underwear. A 4 1/2 minute cue, entitled "It's Only A Diary" on the CD, is the only commercially available score selection, and combines the romantic melody with a charming brass fanfare and a sweeping romantic finale. Click here to listen to an MP3 of "It's Only A Diary".
SHREK
HARRY GREGSON-WILLIAMS and JOHN POWELL
The great animation battle between Disney and Dreamworks continues with Shrek, the latest computer generated animation from the people behind Antz. Directed by first-timers Andrew Adamson and Vicky Jenson, Shrek is a darkly satirical fairytale that cleverly embraces challenging topics such as homelessness, social acceptance, and even genocide in a light-hearted, highly entertaining manner. Shrek (voiced by Mike Myers) is a big green ogre who lives alone in a swamp near the kingdom of Duloc, which is presided over by the diminutive Lord Farquaad (John Lithgow). Trying to rid his land of mythological creatures, Farquaad has all the fairytale characters - the three bears, Pinocchio, the three little pigs and so on - rounded up and dumped in Shrek's swamp. This, understandably, upsets the reclusive Shrek somewhat and, in an attempt try to reclaim his home, makes a deal: Farquaad will give Shrek back is home if he agrees to rescue his beloved, the feisty Princess Fiona (Cameron Diaz), from a faraway castle. So, accompanied by a jive-talking donkey (Eddie Murphy), Shrek sets off on his quest... unaware of the surprises and adventures that await him. Shrek is a children's movie with a magnificent streak of adult humour, much of which lampoons the Disney ethos, as well as some of its best loved characters. Robin Hood is re-imagined as an annoying French minstrel who is beaten up, Matrix-style, by Fiona; Farquaad's castle is a thinly-disguised pastiche of the Disney theme-park franchises; even Farquaad himself resembles Disney head honcho Michael Eisner in both looks and mannerisms. All this subterfuge will fly over the heads of the children who see the movie, however, who will instead be caught up in the roguish antics of the characters - Shrek showers in sewage and eats gross-out food with relish; the Donkey is a verbal delight with witticisms galore ("Did you hear that? She called me a noble steed. She thinks I'm a steed"); and then there is the rather bizarre relationship Donkey develops with Fiona's scaly guardian.. but I'll leave you to discover that one for yourselves. The soundtrack for Shrek, unusually, contains a high proportion of contemporary pop songs: artists such as Barenaked Ladies, Smashmouth, Joan Jett and Baha Men contribute to the highly successful spin-off album, and the movie itself features Eddie Murphy and the others engaging in impromptu renditions of Otis Redding's 'Try a Little Tenderness' and The Monkees' 'I'm A Believer'. Not to be out-done, resident Dreamworks animation composers Harry Gregson Williams and John Powell have complemented the songs with a resplendent score, giving them a hit-rate of three for three after Antz and Chicken Run. The life and energy the dynamic composing duo have given Shrek is nothing short of magnificent. Written for a full orchestra and choir, the Shrek score is a majestic affair running the gamut of emotions while remaining both beautiful and listenable. The one score cue on the soundtrack, 'True Love's First Kiss', is a total beauty, condensing a heraldic fanfare, a barnstorming action motif, and a sparkling rendition of the score's heavenly love theme into just three short minutes. This is a score which BEGS for a promo, and which is now at the very top of my personal wantlist. Click here to listen to an MP3 of "True Love's First Kiss".
FINDING FORRESTER
BILL FRISELL
Gus Van Sant's Finding Forrester is not quite the remake of Good Will Hunting some film critics would have us believe, but it does share many of its life lessons and relationships. Newcomer Rob Brown plays Jamal Wallace, a young black kid from the Bronx whose sporting prowess hides an incredible aptitude for writing. Dared to break into the apartment of the neighbourhood bogeyman by his friends, Jamal is disturbed by the occupant, and flees - leaving his bag, and his writings, behind. Upon receiving them back (dropped from a window onto the street below), Jamal is shocked to find his work marked and annotated; and so begins an unlikely friendship between himself and the man, who turns out to be William Forrester (Sean Connery), the author of a novel considered a literary classic, but who subsequently disappeared from public life and never published again. Acting as his mentor and personal critic, Forrester takes a more active role in Jamal's life when he wins a scholarship to a prestigious Manhattan prep school. However, Jamal finds that moving uptown from the Bronx poses a whole new set of problems, not least a potential new girlfriend (Anna Paquin) and a bitter English Lit professor (F. Murray Abraham) who takes exception to Jamal's prodigious talent. Although the parallels with Van Sant's earlier work are unmistakable, Finding Forrester is very much its own film - and a very good one at that. Unconventional yet mutually beneficial mentor/student relationships are cinema mainstays, and while Finding Forrester is reminiscent of other films, notably Dead Poets Society and Scent of a Woman (especially their justice prevails finales), it is raised by a quartet of excellent performances. Rob Brown is brilliant as Jamal, combining the street smartness inherited from growing up in the Bronx with talent bubbling under the surface, hidden for fear of upstaging his friends and "standing out". Sean Connery gives his most honest performance in years as the J. D. Salinger-esque reclusive genius whose fear of discovery (and of life in general) is dissolved by his enthusiasm for his new young friend. F. Murray Abraham chews the scenery and seethes quietly as the living embodiment of the old saying "those who can, do, those who can't, teach", while Anna Paquin is sweetness and light as Jamal's school friend, girlfriend and confidante. The screenplay, by debutante writer Mike Rich is lively, mimicking the speech patterns of the projects as easily as it delivers nuggets of literary wisdom and clever banter, and the look of the film is excellent, a world away from the seedy backstreets of Van Sant's early work. Finding Forrester doesn't really have an original score to call its own. Instead, it works in a series of jazz classics featuring Miles Davis, Ornette Coleman, Wayne Shorter, Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock and others, arranged by adult contemporary jazz guitarist Bill Frisell and music producer Hal Willner. Frisell is also credited with writing "additional music score" during the end credits, but the only original score of note (or that I noticed) is a funky upbeat piece for xylophone, marimba and percussion that first appears when Forrester is riding his bicycle. Interestingly, the end credits music is the unusual Calypso version of "Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, which also featured over the end titles of Meet Joe Black. The soundtrack album, on Sony Classical, is a jazz fan's feast, with no "original" score, but plenty of late-night, velvety-smooth instrumentals that actually make for a quite pleasant listening experience.
THE CLAIM
MICHAEL NYMAN
By retelling Thomas Hardy's classic romantic tragedy The Mayor of Casterbridge in at the height of the American Gold Rush, The Claim certainly sets its sights on being one of 2001's most high profile high concept movies. A realistic, rather than revisionist Western, The Claim is by far director Michael Winterbottom's most ambitious project to date, a world away from the grimy Dogme of Wonderland. The Claim stars Peter Mullan as Daniel Dillon, the self-appointed head of the small town of Kingdom Come, a prosperous trading post at the foot of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Wealthy as a result of his ownership of the land's rich gold reserves, Dillon has a beautiful mistress in brothel keeper Lucia (Milla Jovovich), friends and sycophants, and the undying respect of his tenants. However, Kingdom Come needs the railroad, and when one of its representatives, Dalglish (Wes Bentley), comes to town, Dillon sets about ensuring the young man is made welcome. At the time, two women from Dillon's past also visit Kingdom Come: the ailing Elena (Nastassja Kinski) and her daughter Hope (Sarah Polley). While Elena ensures that Dillon's shady past does not go forgotten, Hope complicates things further by falling in love with Dalglish. This film could be the star-making turn of Peter Mullan who, after small roles in Braveheart and Trainspotting, and winning at Cannes for the little-seen My Name Is Joe, gives his first high profile performance. Mullan's Dillon is a man with well-hidden inner demons, whose lifestyle is built upon a terrible past misdeed, and who becomes a broken man when the misdeed comes back to haunt him. Mullan's female foils - Kinski and Jovovich - are bravely unglamorous and totally compelling as the women in his life, while Wes "American Beauty" Bentley and Sarah "Sweet Hereafter" Polley as the two young lovers are likeable and earnest. As well as boasting a quintet of truly excellent leading performances, The Claim is a film filled with clever, and at times startling imagery, from a burning horse galloping through a river, to a fully erected house being dragged through a forest. Michael Nyman's score is also another of The Claim's strong points, adding depth and emotion to an already engrossing film. Surprisingly, Nyman's score is not wall-to-wall, as the album may suggest, but is actually pointedly placed for maximum impact. Much of the movie's first half-hour plays without music, but when it comes in, by God it's good. The music that accompanies the railroad survey party riding high into the Sierra Nevada mountains may be the closest Nyman ever comes to emulating the big Western themes of Bernstein and Moross; the romantic encounters between the protagonists are delicately moving; and the fiery finale is undoubtedly one of the Englishman's career-best cinematic moments. Nyman has of course written for Westerns before - Ravenous in 1999 - but never with so much passion, gusto or beauty. Click here for a full review of The Claim.
HANNIBAL
HANS ZIMMER
It has been ten years since The Silence of the Lambs scared the pants off everyone, and Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter is finally back on the silver screen. With Sir Anthony Hopkins reprising the role that made him a superstar, Ridley Scott's take on the latest Thomas Harris is very different from the oppressive approach Jonathan Demme took back in 1990. Having had his fill of fava beans, Chianti, and assorted pieces of char-grilled offal, the world's most famous man-eating shrink has retired from public life and is living a quiet existence of art books and scholarly pursuits, under the assumed name of Dr Fell, in the Italian city of Florence. Meanwhile, the FBI agent with whom he struck up an unlikely friendship, Clarice Starling (Julianne Moore), has been disgraced in front of her superiors following a bungled sting, and is suspended from duty. Italian police inspector Pazzi (Giancarlo Giannini) thinks he has identified Lecter from the FBI's Most Wanted List, and contacts the number listed to claim his reward. However, the reward is not being offered by the police... horribly disfigured billionaire Mason Verger (Gary Oldman), the only one of Lecter's victims to survive, has been planning to exact a terrible revenge upon the man who shattered his life - and he has a pack of specially trained pigs with which to do his bidding. All Verger needs is bait to lure Lecter into the open... and following Pazzi's lead, it seems Agent Starling would fit the bill. Hannibal is funnier, slightly lighter in tone, and more romantic than The Silence of the Lambs. Unfortunately, it is also nowhere near as good. Ridley Scott's version of Hannibal Lecter is almost a caricature of the original, and Hopkins performance verges on self-parody at times. Somehow, I can't imagine the Hannibal Lecter from the original movie ever uttering the phrases "goody-goody" or "okey-dokey", and the blame for this must lie solely on the shoulders of screenwriter Steven Zaillian, who was brought in to re-work David Mamet's original draft. Julianne Moore is fine as Clarice Starling, although she will forever be compared to Jodie Foster, and the chemistry between herself and Hopkins seems different, and just a little uncomfortable this time round. Could there be mutual respect, friendship... attraction between the two? Ray Liotta is suitably slimy as FBI chief Paul Krendler, Frankie Faison returns as Barney the Orderly (the only man to appear in all three Harris adaptations), and Gary Oldman is unbilled and almost unrecognisable as the disturbed, disturbing Mason Verger. Of course, director Scott brought his design team with him, and therefore the look of Hannibal is very different too: instead of sharp contrasts of light and dark, there is lots of shadow and depth; instead of stark prison corridors and realistic locations, there are classically gilded sets and ornate state rooms. And then there's the music. Whatever else he may be, Hans Zimmer is no Howard Shore - and you can read that comment however you choose. His score for Hannibal is far removed from the moody, ominous tones Shore penned for the original; Zimmer's effort is bigger and more refined, alluding more to Lecter's taste for the finer things in life than the omnipresent danger he poses. At times Zimmer's score is just as dismal as Shore's, especially in some of the more tense and frightening moments, but its strength lies in its tragic beauty. With heavy cellos, deep basses, and misleadingly gentle piano chords, as the camera skims over the lake to Verger's mansion, accompanies Lecter's academic lecture on Dante, and underscores the terrifying final triage between Lecter, Starling and Krendler, Zimmer moves ever onwards into full-on operatic mode. However, by far the most memorable piece of music in the score is not by Zimmer at all: composer Patrick Cassidy's beautiful aria "Vide Cor Meum" lingers in the air, with the clarity of the singers' voices and the exquisite precision of the orchestral performance allowing its rendition over the end credits to soften somewhat the impact of the vivid imagery that preceded it. A lengthy album on the Decca label features a hefty chunk of Zimmer's score, tracks by Cassidy and Klaus Badelt, a couple of Bach pieces... and lots and lots of dialogue by Anthony Hopkins. You have been warned.
ALMOST FAMOUS
NANCY WILSON
A semi-autobiographical look at the waning days of rock and roll, as seen through the eyes of a wide-eyed 15-year-old journalist, Cameron Crowe's Almost Famous is a wonderful, non-judgemental homage to all we nerds who idolise a particular genre of music. It's also a coming of age drama; a cautionary tale about the dangers of fame; and a fond remembrance of a time when popular music actually had a point, and something to say. Newcomer Patrick Fugit plays William Miller, a talented 15-year-old writer from San Diego who, after an encounter with rock journalist Lester Bangs (Philip Seymour Hoffman), is offered a commission to write a piece on the rock band Stillwater by Rolling Stone magazine. Naturally, Rolling Stone are unaware of his age. Thrust into a situation he had only previously dreamed about, William suddenly finds himself on the Stillwater tour bus, heading across America as a support act to Led Zeppelin. Despite Lester's advice of never making friends with his subjects, William grows closer to the group's charismatic lead guitarist Russell (Billy Crudup), and witnesses first-hand the battle of egos between him and lead singer Jeff (Jason Lee). And despite his fussy mother Elaine (Frances McDormand)'s even more vociferous advice, William finds himself drawn to the beautiful Penny Lane (Kate Hudson), a self-styled "band aid" who follows Stillwater from gig to gig, and is secretly having an affair with Russell. Without wanting to sound conceited, I saw a bit of myself in William. We are both idealistic (almost to the point of naïveté), both totally passionate about our chosen musical genres, and became involved in our beloved industry from a comparatively early age. My only regret is that film composers don't have "band aids", and that film music journos aren't welcomed into their midst quite as.. ahem.. forcefully as William was. Crowe's film is a marvellous balance of comedy and pathos, tragedy and euphoria, with several vignettes that, in other circumstances, might have been ripe for Spinal Tap-style parodies. The T-shirt scene, the aeroplane confession scene, and the various phone calls from William's mother were all judged to perfection, while the developing relationship between William and Penny is, by turns, sweet-natured and caring, but self-serving and exploitative. As has been the case with most of Crowe's films to date, there is very little traditional underscore, with the exception of a repetitive synth piece which plays over the hand-written opening titles. In the case of Almost Famous, though, the decision to score the movie with pop songs is the correct one, as it lends the narrative a sense of its place in history, and allows the listener to appreciate the rock and roll in a similar way to young William. It's instances like this where music supervisors really come into their own. For Almost Famous, Danny Bramson assembled a group of stellar artists, each of them dripping with potent nostalgia and feelgood sentimentality. Led Zeppelin; Neil Young; David Bowie; The Who; The Beach Boys; Joni Mitchell; Simon & Garfunkel; Lynyrd Skynyrd. Their names alone are enough to bring the heady memories flooding back. The cast's ensemble performance of Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" is one of the film's many musical highlights, while the decision to use Stevie Wonder's sweet "My Cherie Amour" as underscore for the stomach-pumping scene was a master stroke of music against type. Composer (and member of all-girl rock band Heart) Nancy Wilson, in addition to her inconsequential score pieces, penned all of Stillwater's songs, along with director Crowe and Wilson's sister Ann, and collaborated with legendary rock artist Peter Frampton for their performance. Only one Stillwater track - the rocking "Fever Dog" - appears on the smash hit album, which is instead given over to providing the listener with an ultimate 70s nostalgia trip.
WHAT WOMEN WANT
ALAN SILVESTRI
I've always had a fondness for films made by the husband-and-wife creative partnership of Nancy Meyers and Charles Shyer: films like Father of the Bride, The Parent Trap, and their latest effort, What Women Want. It's a likeable, featherweight romantic comedy, not unlike it's predecessors in tone and style, shot with soft lighting, filled with gentle sentimentality, and infused with an appealing sense of humour. Mel Gibson stars as Nick Marshall, an executive at a New York ad agency, and a chauvinistic, womanising misogynist to boot - a man's man. When his boss (Alan Alda) passes him over for promotion, Nick is mortified to discover that his new boss is female: attractive, intelligent Darcy McGuire (Helen Hunt). However, before Nick has a change to exact his revenge, opportunity presents itself in the most unlikely manner: after an accident at home involving a hair dryer and a bath full of water, Nick wakes up from his shocking experience with a new ability: to hear the thoughts of any woman with whom he comes into contact. Initially, Nick exploits his gift for his own gain: he steals Darcy's ideas and passes them off as his own, and sweet-talks the girl from the coffee shop (Marisa Tomei) into sleeping with him. But, just when he thinks the world is his oyster, Nick starts to have a crisis of conscience... and falls in love with Darcy. As I said, I really enjoy films like this. Totally undemanding, very pleasant to watch, yet totally insubstantial in the bigger scheme of things. Gibson and Hunt are both delightful in their roles, the former oozing boyish charm and passionate romance, while the latter conveys a delicious mix of total professionalism and personal vulnerability. Marisa Tomei is a hoot as Lola the Coffee Shop Girl, and shares the film's funniest sequence with Gibson, making out in her apartment. Bette Midler has an uncredited cameo as Gibson's psychotherapist, and there's one laugh out loud moment that no-one else in the cinema I saw this movie in seemed to spot. Having been bombarded with the innermost thoughts of all his female co-workers, Gibson finally reaches the sanctuary of his office, only to be confronted by his two bubble-headed assistants (Delta Burke and Valerie Perrine). And Gibson hears... absolutely nothing. Alan Silvestri in romantic comedy mode is more often than not a sheer delight, and his work on What Women Want does not disappoint. The core of his score is formed by a trio of ideas: a sweet, lush romantic theme for the blossoming relationship between Nick and Darcy; a fun jazzy number that accompanies Nick's comic misadventures with his new talent; and a slightly mysterious theme featuring a cooing choir that seems to be a leitmotif for "lightning", and the magical qualities of the gift. There's also a fantastic, vibrant piece for orchestra and percussion in the scene where Nick is standing on his balcony in the rain that is worth mentioning. There are also lots of old romantic ballads worked into the story - Gibson performs a lazy soft-shoe shuffle around his apartment to Frank Sinatra singing "I Won't Dance" - and many of these also feature on Columbia's soundtrack CD. Contemporary artists like Christina Aguilera and Meredith Brooks share space with classic crooners Sammy Davis Jr., Tony Bennett, Bobby Darin and Ol' Blue Eyes, while Silvestri's contribution is limited to just one score cue, entitled "Everything About You".
QUILLS
STEPHEN WARBECK
Everyone needs a little sexual perversion every now and again. At least, that's what the Marquis De Sade seems to be proclaiming in Quills, the latest film from controversial director Philip Kaufman. Adapted by Doug Wright from his own acclaimed play, Quills is a searing indictment of censorship and an advocate of freedom of speech, lavishly staged as a Gallic period piece, and using the erotic text of the infamous writer as its example. Oscar-winner Geoffrey Rush plays De Sade, imprisoned in the Charenton lunatic asylum in late 18th Century France, under the supervision of the impressionable young man of God, Abbé Coulmier (Joaquin Phoenix). Under the guise of using his writing as "therapy" to cure his depraved mind, De Sade is secretly having his work smuggled out of the prison by smitten laundry girl Madeleine (Kate Winslet) and taken to Paris, where it is published and secretly distributed to an enthralled public. However, when the De Sade's latest scandalous work, Justine, comes to the attention of the Emperor Napoleon, the brutal Dr. Royer-Collard (Michael Caine) is quickly dispatched to Charenton, under orders to silence De Sade once and for all. Quills features an incredibly brave performance from Rush as the Marquis, a role which expects him to be refined and cultured in the most horrific circumstances, sexually alluring when at his most dishevelled, and teetering on the brink of madness when most of his social and political arguments make perfect sense. For the entire last half hour, Rush plays his part totally naked. The Australian seems to thrive on parts born out of adversity - as his famous work in Shine attests - and his presence totally dominates Quills. Even if he's not in the scene, his presence is constantly looming in the background, at the forefront of everyone's thoughts and actions. Kate Winslet and Joaquin Phoenix are both excellent as the forbidden lovers who, almost against their will, are drawn together through their mutual fascination with De Sade's writings, while Michael Caine oozes nefarious charm as the doctor whose denouncements of De Sade's "perversions" stand hypocritically opposed to his own personal life, in which he forces himself upon his child bride (Amelia Warner) every night. The film is also visually striking: shot in shadowy half-light, beautifully designed, and featuring lavish costumes, Quills almost drips with muddied opulence and atmosphere. Musically, Quills is a hotchpotch of styles and influences, ranging from French classical opera to surprisingly modernistic percussion. The most attractive parts of Stephen Warbeck's score revolve around the relationship developing between Madeleine and the Abbé, often utilising a gorgeous combination of strings and soft woodwinds, and culminating in a stomach-turning necrophilia sequence which is shot and scored like a rapturous love scene. At the other end of the scale, the offbeat "lunatic band" offers several moments of light relief, while some of the darker moments make use of a frantic string lines and a striking metallic ostinato that sounds like a long-lost cousin of Brad Fiedel's The Terminator. In fact, the whole score (and film) can be effectively summed up by the opening scene of a beautiful woman being guillotined, accompanied on the soundtrack by an achingly beautiful operatic aria. This visual and aural combination of the sublime and the mercilessly cruel seems to echo De Sade's own philosophy: that intense pleasure can be drawn from the most severe pain.
PAY IT FORWARD
THOMAS NEWMAN
A top-notch cast of Oscar winners and nominees; a best-selling novel as its basis; a talented director with a string of hit movies behind her. Pay It Forward can't fail to impress, right? Well, yes and no - it would have been a darn sight better if the Hollywood schmaltz machine hadn't drenched everyone's good intentions from the word go. Pay It Forward is directed by Mimi Leder (The Peacemaker) and stars young Sixth Sense star Haley Joel Osment as Trevor McKinney, a ninth-grader whose sociology teacher, the physically scarred Eugene Simonet (Kevin Spacey) encourages his young wards to think up an idea which could change the world for the better. In response, Trevor comes up with "pay it forward", in which one person does a good deed for three others, but instead of repaying the favour, the recipient must do one good turn for three other people... and so on and so forth. As the idea quietly spreads out of Las Vegas and on to California, Trevor sets his sights on getting his alcoholic mother Arlene (Helen Hunt) together with Mr Simonet, whether they like it or not. Quite how closely Cathy Cash Spellman's original novel has been followed is unknown, but some of the themes it touches upon - alcoholism, homelessness, the break-up of the family unit - are universal in scope. The realisation of these themes by Leder, though, are a little heavy handed, and the end result, despite a number of genuinely heartfelt performances, is somewhat mawkish. Spacey is sensitive, yet troubled, as the facially disfigured teacher with a mysterious past, and who is being forced into a relationship he wants to take further, but cannot. Osment is idealistically enthusiastic, and often very funny, in a role a million miles removed from his introverted Sixth Sense character - a bright, intelligent kid with a number of personal problems which he overcomes with old-fashioned decency. Similarly, a number of the supporting roles (Jim Caviezel as a big-hearted hobo, Jon Bon Jovi as Trevor's absent father) are impressive. But throughout the movie you cannot help but get the feeling you are being emotionally manipulated - as though the director is whispering "cry now!" at key moments - and is ultimately a little too overblown and contrived to be truly affecting. Pay It Forward's score, by Thomas Newman, is very much in the quirky, percussive mould of American Beauty and others, and generates the same mood of urban life through its unusual complement of instruments. The opening sequence of Trevor riding his bike around the dusty Vegas suburbs features Newman's funky vibraphones In the film, however, director Leder concentrates much more on the gentle, piano-led portions of Newman's score, allowing several moments of quiet, reflective tenderness to take centre stage. This style of music is especially notable in some of the hesitant courtship scenes between Arlene and Eugene, and during the film's sub-story of a Los Angeles reporter tracking a series of pay it forward incidents and listening to them relaying their stories of unexpected charity. The finale contains an especially moving performance of Jane Siberry's "Calling All Angels", before segueing into a comprehensive end credits suite featuring all the main themes. Varèse's album contains 40 minutes of score and the aforementioned song. Click here for a full review of Pay It Forward.
TRAFFIC
CLIFF MARTINEZ
A stunningly realised ensemble piece, revolving around a dozen or so major characters, Steven Soderbergh's Traffic balances on the knife-edge of cutting independent cinema and box office blockbuster. Based on Simon Moore's brilliant Channel 4 drama series "Traffik", and adapted by Golden Globe winner Stephen Gaghan, Soderbergh's narrative takes three different strands and weaves an intricate tapestry charting the cause and effect of the narcotics industry from Mexico to San Diego and beyond. Benicio Del Toro plays Tijuana cop Javier Rodriguez, one of the few decent, non-corrupt members of law enforcement in the town, as he is being courted by Mexican army General Salazar (Tomas Milian), who is hoping to use Javier's insider knowledge to bring down drugs baron Obregon (Benjamin Bratt). Meanwhile, over the border in San Diego, DEA officers Gordon (Don Cheadle) and Castro (Luis Guzman) shadow Helena Ayala (Catherine Zeta Jones), the wife of one of Obregon's lieutenants (Steven Bauer), and their lawyer (Dennis Quaid), who are try to take over the business while he is in jail awaiting trial. At the same time, newly-appointed drugs tzar Judge Robert Wakefield (Michael Douglas) discovers that his daughter Caroline (Erika Christensen) has become secretly addicted to freebase cocaine - a terrible personal problem which he seeks to turn to his political advantage. Each of these stories interlock and overlap over the course over the movie, effectively giving an overview of the drugs trade as a whole - from the producers in Mexico, the officers who try to stop it entering the US, and the eventual users of the product. It's a highly stylised, engrossing, if a little over-long movie that boasts a stunning performance from Del Toro, speaking primarily in Spanish, and several scintillating supporting roles, especially young Christensen as the drug-addicted rich girl, Don Cheadle and Luis Guzman as the bickering but brilliant cops, and a terrifying cameo from Clifton Collins Jr. as a cold-blooded assassin. Shot in grimy, naturalistic film stock, and utilising an array of coloured filters to indicate the geographical setting, this film could well be Soderbergh's best film yet, eclipsing both Out of Sight and Erin Brockovich. In fact, Traffic's one and only failing is its score, credited to former Captain Beefheart and Red Hot Chilli Peppers drummer Cliff Martinez. In truth, it isn't a score: it's a two-hour synth drone punctuated by "atmospheric" instrumental solos by a varied group of artists such as Michael Brook, fellow Chilli Pepper Flea, Herbie Hancock and SPLaTTeRCeLL. It's a truly awful score in every respect - in many scenes, it's way too loud, and brings unnecessary attention to itself, while in others it is mixed so low as to be totally obsolete and unnecessary. I genuinely can't think of anything positive to say about Traffic's music, other than perhaps that it is "hallucinogenic" and alludes to the drug-fuelled psyche of the film... but that's really, really stretching it. I'm sure Steven Soderbergh was pleased, and got exactly what he asked for. However, It's perhaps worth mentioning that Soderbergh is the only person who ever seems to hire Martinez to score his movies: he counts Sex Lies and Videotape, Underneath and The Limey among his other credits, and had scores rejected for both Erin Brockovich and Out of Sight. An hour-long CD, featuring Martinez's score and songs by Morcheeba, Fatboy Slim and Brian Eno, is available on the TVT label.
VERTICAL LIMIT
JAMES NEWTON HOWARD
It's been totally trashed by most of the respected movie reviewers, all of whom cited its predictable characterisation and lack of innovation. It's true - Vertical Limit does adhere to a great number of clichés, and there is a surprising amount of "dumbness" in the narrative as a whole, but as a cinematic spectacle, its an unqualified success. My knuckles haven't been this white for a long, long time. Basically, Vertical Limit is a rescue story set on the imposing K2 mountain. Three years after their father's death in a climbing accident, estranged brother and sister Peter and Annie Garrett (Chris O'Donnell and Robin Tunney) meet each other at the K2 base camp, from where she is due to ascend the mountain in the company of billionaire Elliot Vaughan (Bill Paxton). However, unexpected freak weather conditions cause a massive avalanche, trapping Anne, Elliott and team leader Tom McLaren (Nicholas Lea) in an ice cave high up the mountain. Peter hastily assembles a rescue team consisting of himself, French-Canadian communications expert Monique Aubertine (Izabella Scorupco), Ozzie slackers Cyril and Malcolm Bench (Steve Le Marquand and Ben Mendelsohn), Pakistani guide Kareem Nazir (Alexander Siddig), and wise old man of the mountains Montgomery Wick (Scott Glenn), and sets off up the mountain to save them... a journey made even more arduous by the fact that they are carrying six canisters of highly volatile nitro-glycerine borrowed from the Pakistani army, which they intend to use to blow through the rock wall. Martin Campbell, directing his first movie since The Mask of Zorro, has made Vertical Limit a superb high altitude thrill-ride, the lack of intelligence of which is more than made up for by a huge adrenaline content and some of the most pulse-pounding, edge-of-seat action sequences I have seen for a while. The potential for people to fall off something is always enough to make my palms sweaty; when they are hanging off huge desert mesas in Utah by their fingers, or clinging to sheer rock faces with the tip of a pickaxe, the effect is doubled. The only flaws come via the stock in trade peripheral characters: the mad old bloke who turns out to be a hero, the billionaire with a hidden agenda, the snow bums who come good, and so on. The screenplay by Robert King and Terry Hayes is minimal at best - most of the characters spend the second half of the movie delivering variations on "Look out!" and "Hang on!". In addition, some of the matte backdrop visual effects are a little obvious, especially during the opening sequence. Musically, though, Vertical Limit is a blast, eclipsing the efforts of Trevor Jones on that other mountaineering adventure Cliffhanger. James Newton Howard's themes are sensational, matching the beauty of David Tattersall's cinematography with a sweeping grandeur, a sense of power, and just a hint of danger. Whenever the camera careens across the majestic peaks of the Himalayas, or whenever one of the rescue crew does something remotely heroic, JNH's music swells into a performance of one of the two main themes, giving Peter's quest a sense of heroic nobility to match the spectacular beauty of the setting. Vertical Limit's closest musical cousins are probably Dinosaur and The Postman, recapturing the impressive thematic scope of the former, and the thunderous percussion of the latter. In several sequences - notably the spectacular avalanche, and Peter's jump across a crevasse - Howard's action music makes bold statements. With Dinosaur, Unbreakable, and now Vertical Limit, James Newton Howard's seemingly unstoppable run of sensational form continues. Click here for a full review of Vertical Limit.
UNDER SUSPICION
BRIAN TRANSEAU
Under Suspicion is an unusual stage-bound thriller directed by Stephen Hopkins, in his first cinematic outing since he helmed the mega-flop Lost in Space two years ago, adapted from the 1981 French film Garde à Vue. Set in a hot and steamy Puerto Rico, it stars Morgan Freeman as police captain Victor Benezet, who calls his friend, lawyer Henry Hearst (Gene Hackman), into the station for a quick chat before he is due to deliver a speech at a fundraising event. The previous day, Hearst had reported finding a girl's dead body in the undergrowth near his house - and Benezet has seen discrepancies in his testimony. What began as a simple issue of tidying up a few details turns into a night-long interrogation as Benezet and his dogged partner Owens (Thomas Jane) become increasingly convinced that Hearst has murdered at least two girls on the island, and that his beautiful wife Chantal (Monica Bellucci) may also be involved. Under Suspicion is basically a four-character movie that unfolds almost real-time, and with just three or four locations. As a showcase for the two main actors, it's a dream project. Freeman and Hackman, two of the greatest cinema thespians of their generation, go at it hammer and tongs for the duration of the film, and deliver compelling and honest performances. It's also a significant decrease in scale for director Hopkins, whose previous work has included films such as Predator 2 and The Ghost and the Darkness. Unfortunately, the only thing the movie lacks is a point: when the final revelation comes, its so much out of leftfield it almost negates everything you have been watching for the previous 90 minutes. The film's static nature is also something of a negative point, although the numerous flashback sequence are cleverly done, with both the narrator and the listener appearing in the picture as "witnesses" to the event. Musically, Under Suspicion is important as marks the breakthrough of American dance and trance music guru Brian Transeau ("BT") into the film scoring big league. Transeau, whose only other credit was the drug-fuelled youth thriller Go, but who has proved extremely popular as a solo recording artist in his own right, has created an intriguing hybrid score that combines traditional orchestral and electronic scoring techniques with pumping dance rhythms that convey the life and energy of Latin America. His orchestral music, orchestrated by Randy Miller, is actually surprisingly good - lest we forget Transeau was classically trained - and features a particularly moving solemn theme for Chantal, and there are several moments of musical tension in the firecracker scenes between Freeman and Hackman. Admittedly, some of the more loud and pulsating trance sections - especially during the opening sequence - seem a little too much like overkill, but on the whole this is a highly impressive and accomplished breakout score. For the "party music", Transeau collaborated with acclaimed world music artist George Acogny; none of Transeau's score is featured on the CD, which is full of Latino classics by Enrique Iglesias and Jose Feliciano, but a VERY limited edition promo score CD was issued by Transeau's agents, 3AM Management.
CAST AWAY
ALAN SILVESTRI
It's a testament to Tom Hanks's skill as an actor that he can be on-screen, totally alone save for a volleyball named Wilson, for over an hour, and still fill a movie with his presence and the weight of his emotion. Re-uniting with director Robert Zemeckis for the first time since Forrest Gump, Cast Away is a modern-day Robinson Crusoe story starring Hanks as Chuck Noland, a Federal Express employee for whom time is a daily enemy. While on a routine flight across the south pacific, Noland's plane is caught in a tropical storm and ditches off an uninhabited island. The only survivor, Chuck is washed ashore... and spends the next four years of his life adapting to his new solitary existence, coping without material goods. Ruminations on the nature of life, and time, and what it means to exist abound. This is a thoughtful film in many ways, belying its Hollywood studio background and big-name cast (which also includes Helen Hunt as his fiancée and Nick Searcy as his best friend). Hanks's physical transformation is one of the most astounding things about the film as a whole: they filmed the first half of the film with Hanks "comfortably built" in knitted sweaters, and then the entire crew went off to make What Lies Beneath while Hanks grew his hair and lost stones in weight, giving him a gaunt, lean look for the film's final act. The passage of time is conveyed magnificently, and the movie is all the more authentic because of it. Similarly, the technical credits - especially Don Burgess's beautiful cinematography - are exemplary. Alan Silvestri's score is one of the shortest, but most effective works he has penned in recent years. Other than the superb (and unexpected) Russian choral piece that underscores the frantic FedEx dash around Moscow during the prologue, there is virtually no score in the movie until the final third, whereupon Silvestri introduces a gentle, moving string-orchestra theme to illustrate Chuck's final triumph over adversity with the help of a portaloo. The theme repeats at several key emotional moments, but is never overstated, making it a close cousin to Jerry Goldsmith's Patton: a 3-hour film with very little music, but which is made all the more powerful when it does appear. Interestingly, the end credits intersperse sections of score with the sounds of waves lapping on a beach, giving off a calming effect as you leave the cinema, almost like a New Age ambient album. Varese Sarabande will be releasing a CD of Silvestri's score shortly: because of its brevity, the album will be padded out with music from earlier Silvestri-Zemeckis collaborations (Back to the Future, Death Becomes Her, Forrest Gump, and so on).
EAST WEST
PATRICK DOYLE
It's taken almost 18 months for East West (Est Ouest), director Régis Wargnier's latest effort, to reach British cinemas (it opened nationally in France in September 1999). In my opinion, though, it was worth the wait. A searing social and political drama set in the period immediately following the end of World War II, East West concentrates on Soviet émigré Alexei Golodin (Oleg Menshikov) and his French-born wife Marie (Sandrine Bonnaire), who return to his homeland in the Ukraine hoping for a better life for themselves and their young son, Seryozha. Upon arrival in Odessa, however, their dreams are shattered. Stalin's xenophobia has created a climate of fear and repression in the Soviet Union, and most of the returnees are executed as "imperialist spies" or sent to the gulag to rot. Because of his skills as a doctor, Alexei and his family are spared, and are allocated a tiny, squalid room in Kiev, from which Alexei practices his medicine. Both Alexei and Marie dream of returning to France, but the corrupt bureaucratic system and the strict restrictions on Soviet citizens continually thwart their efforts. However, as Alexei reluctantly begins to adapt to his new life, Marie sees in two acquaintances a possible means of escape: a young swimmer named Sacha (Sergei Bodrov Jr.), who falls in love with Marie, and a famous French stage actress (Catherine Deneuve), whose left-wing political leanings cause her to take a keen interest in Marie's plight. Wargnier's film is one that adopts a broad-scope, and screams "epic" through both its subject matter and visual imagery. French films released in the UK are often talky, intellectual creatures that tackle deep interpersonal relationships in small, intimate settings. The thing that elevates East West above this status is the way in which it opens up the spectrum of "cinema", maintaining the emotional sincerity, but presenting it in a more user-friendly manner. The grimy claustrophobia of the Golodin residence is counterbalanced by the majestic splendour of the lake where Sacha trains, and plots his escape with Marie, and the grey-blue hues used by DPH Laurent Dailland give much of the film a cold, austere feeling. It's also a telling to note some of the quiet, ironic observations in Wargnier's narrative: the fact that, despite their initial hostility, most of the residents in the Golodin's tenement turn out to speak French; the fact that Alexei works, not just in any old factory, but in a red flag factory; and the fact that, having fought so hard to escape to the West, Marie misses her moment of triumph crossing the border between Bulgaria and Greece by falling asleep in the back of a car. The performances, by Bonnaire and Menshikov especially, are first rate, accurately capturing the frustration and anger that people used to freedom and liberty would experience when caught up in such a situation. And then there's Patrick Doyle's César-nominated music; a full-throated orchestral masterpiece that mixes hearty Slavic marches with beautiful piano rhapsodies and lush string themes. Doyle's work is presented high in the sound mix, giving the audience plenty of chance to hear his work, and several moments in the score stand out, notably during Babouchka's funeral, and in some of the more tender scenes between Sacha and Marie. The piano rhapsodies are used as a leitmotif for the sea, making bold and beautiful statements in the scenes where Sacha takes to the water: during his training sessions, during the Olympic trials, and during his daring bid for freedom as he swims through the icy depths of the Black Sea. The End Credits are also worth sitting through, as they feature all the score's themes, along with a poignant vocal performance by Ukrainian baritone Anatoly Fokanov. Click here for a full review of East West.
BLESS THE CHILD
CHRISTOPHER YOUNG
Demonic possession is a funny bandwagon to jump upon, but what with the new millennium and everything, Hollywood seems to have been strangely eager to cash in on humanity's fears about Armageddon, the "second coming" and all that jazz. They re-released The Exorcist, with the sound cleaned up and new bits added. We've seen Arnold Schwarzenegger in End of Days, and we've got Winona Ryder in Lost Souls coming soon. And then there's Bless the Child, an unusual little thriller which casts Kim Basinger as Maggie O'Connor, the guardian of her drug-addict sister's autistic six-year-old daughter Cody (newcomer Holliston Coleman). As she grows up, Cody seems to develop special powers of empathy and healing - as well as an affinity for the Catholic faith - leading both Maggie and her teachers to believe she is "special". However, Cody's abilities attract the attentions of self-help guru and part-time devil worshipper Eric Stark (Rufus Sewell), who believes the girl to be the key to his plans for world domination, all in the name of Satan. With the help of spiritual cop Travis (Jimmy Smits) and a host of heavenly good Samaritans, Maggie sets about breaking the cult and rescuing her niece. Director Chuck Russell (The Mask, Eraser) has made a good-looking, technically competent film which is, sadly, bereft of anything resembling tension or spectacle - even the screenplay and acting by the usually reliable cast is anything but first rate. Basinger swishes her hair a lot, Sewell glares at people with his lazy eye, Jimmy Smits seems to be reprising his NYPD Blue role verbatim, and Christina Ricci and Ian Holm are gone before you even notice their presence. Stories of unhappy studios (in this case Paramount) and heartless editing abounded during Bless the Child's production - and the chop job on display here is seemingly the result, completely wrecking in the process the soul of the acclaimed Cathy Cash Spellman's novel on which it is based. With the exception of some of the startling special effects (look out for Christina Ricci sitting on a bench!), by far the best thing about the movie is Chris Young's score. I was fortunate enough to attend part of the scoring session for Bless the Child at the now-defunct CTS Studios in London, and heard what was eventually to become the music for the final confrontation between good and evil: huge choral work chanting in Latin, combined with the familiar Gothic textures of the string orchestra. It was a wonderful experience. Young's score provides the soul of Bless the Child - all the emotion, all the tension, and all the drama. Without it, the film would be totally laughable, but Young very nearly pulls off a miracle and almost makes it work. Voices play a big part in Young's work, breathing heavily, chanting ominously, screeching violently, singing angelically, giving the film a portent and seriousness. There are also several action scenes notable for their music, especially the attack on Cherry in the subway, and the two frantic car chases on a bridge and through the Vermont countryside. However, the music comes into its own during the moments when Young really piles on the emotion - several scenes really raise the hairs on the back of the neck for its sheer orchestral beauty. The score album, on GNP Crescendo records, is an essential purchase for Young's admirers. Click here for a full review of Bless the Child.
UNBREAKABLE
JAMES NEWTON HOWARD
M. Night Shyamalan's eagerly-awaited follow up to The Sixth Sense is Unbreakable, one of the most unlikely super hero movies you are ever likely to see. It's a quiet, thoughtful, languidly-paced movie that defies convention - and with only one action sequence of note, is likely to bore those expecting the same kind of intellectual thrills and spills provided by its predecessor. Once again, Bruce Willis stars as David Dunn, an ordinary joe working as a security guard with an estranged wife (Robin Wright Penn) and a young son (Spencer Treat Clark). David's life is turned upside down when he emerges totally unscathed from a massive train wreck - of which he is the only survivor. As if this trauma were not enough, David soon finds himself hounded by comic book art dealer Elijah Price (Samuel L. Jackson), who offers David a fantastical explanation for his miraculous escape. Elijah is afflicted with "osteogenesis imperfecta", a debilitating brittle bone disease, and believes that Dunn may be his polar opposite - an unbreakable man, who has a destiny and purpose greater than he had ever imagined. It's an interesting premise, to be sure, and the trailer is tantalising but, sadly, it fails to live up to its promise on almost every front. Willis, in the pivotal lead role, tries to recapture the subdued and thoughtful nature of his Sixth Sense character, but comes across as lethargic and morose here instead. Surely a man blessed with such powers, and with such a future ahead of him, would get a little excited once or twice - maybe even smile occasionally? Jackson, who can always be depended upon for a solid performance, is good: bitter about his physical frailties, but driven by a need for closure. It is Jackson who drives the movie. Directing, Shyamalan once again engages in heaps of foreshadowing and iconic imagery, and makes clever use of glass and mirrors in establishing a tone. To match the sombre mood, the look of the film is dark and gloomy, shrouded in shadow and filled with shades of brown and blue - it is worth mentioning the excellent cinematography of Eduardo Serra and the art direction of Larry Fulton in this instance. However, technical excellence aside, Unbreakable is certainly a disappointing movie. More than anything, there is little point or meaning in the thing - and the relationships (Dunn-Elijah, Dunn-Wife, Dunn-Son) are oddly rendered, uncomfortable and unconvincing. Complementing the work of the technical crew, James Newton Howard returns to perform the scoring duties for Unbreakable. His score is wonderfully effective and perfectly matched to the film, and is generally a more satisfying work than The Sixth Sense. The main theme is a constant throughout the score, making great use of a solo piano/string wash combination, bolstered by a muted heroic brass anthem. During the main titles the music is accompanied by a strident hip-hop beat, adding jazzy textures to the orchestra to illustrate the contemporary Philadelphia setting. During the rest of the score, and for the most part, the music is soft and introspective, rising to the fore in several key moments: notably, while David is walking around the railway yards, during his visit to the railway station, during his fight with the "Orange Man", and over the end credits. The album, on Hollywood records, includes over 40 minutes of score.
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Movie Music U.K is designed and maintained by Jonathan Broxton (c) 2001. All opinions and views expressed on these pages are my own and are in no way intended to reflect those the University of Sheffield. All photos and album artwork used on Movie Music U.K. are only for the non-profit making promotional purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.