CD Reviews: Amelie, The Glass House and Ghosts of Mars
Amelie ****
YANN TIERSEN
Virgin 0724381079027
20 tracks - 54:26
Admit it, you said: 'Yann who?' And to be fair, unless you are a devoted
follower of Euro films, this French composer is likely an unknown commodity.
But once you've spun this jolly disc in your CD player, you'll likely be
clamoring for the artist's entire back catalogue within the hour.
The latest film from Jean-Pierre Jeunet (Delicatessen, City
of Lost Children and Alien Resurrection), Amelie is a
wonderful, life-affirming movie set in a fantasy Paris, not a million miles
(well, the same place actually!) from Moulin Rouge. Once again,
overly stylized sets compete with manic characters in an art-house tale
of a young girl's search for true love in the world's most romantic city.
And in the same way that Amelie's traditional ideals struggle to
find relevance in modern France, so too does Tiersen's post-modern score
veer between sideshow accordian and contemporary instrumentation, eschewing
reality for gaudy carnival melodies.
Never has a composer so deserved the accolade "eclectic." Tiersen is
a veritable one-man band, playing everything from toy piano to mandolin,
piano solo and bass guitar. Just when you think you've tied down his sound,
he shifts tracks to another means of expression. And while "J'y suis jamais
alle theme" is reminiscent of fellow countryman Gabriel Yared's Betty
Blue, other tracks could have been lifted from the repertoires of Nyman
("L'Autre valse D'Amelie" echoes A Zed and Two Noughts) and Glass
(for the minimalistic staccato chords).
But I don't mean to suggest that Tiersen is derivative. Far from it.
Because his sound is so unique, I use comparisons merely as yardsticks
or points of reference. As if to prove how easily he can switch between
instruments and styles, Tiersen even offers us three versions of the same
theme ("La Valse D'Amelie") on piano, full orchestra and accordion. This
simple motif will eat its way into your psyche, and works while standalone
or as part of a mixture of rich tumbling textures. At the other end of
the scale (pun intended) "Comptine d'un autre ete: L'Apres Midi" is a divine
piano solo, boasting a repetitive base line augmented with frenetic sliding
up the scales. And "Pas si simple" features the rhythmic percussion of
a typewriter.
A number of tracks are taken from Tiersen's previous non-soundtrack
albums, and it was while listening to an existing recording that Jeunet
fell in love with the composer's joie de vivre. Two additional period cues
from the 1930s add some authenticity to the disc, though are hardly essential
and either unintentionally interrupt the narrative of Tiersen's sequencing
or provide brief interludes, depending on how you find them.
How refreshing it is to discover this infectious Gallic treat; a confection
that genuinely offers a certain je ne sais quoi. -- Nick Joy
Amelie won the World Sountrack Award for Best Original Score (see
http://www.soundtrackawards.com).
The Glass House *** 1/2
CHRISTOPHER YOUNG
Varèse Sarabande 302 066 282 2
11 tracks - 36:46
Christopher Young can probably score a thriller in his sleep. He certainly
has the formula down: start with a beautiful and haunting piano solo, lull
the viewers into a false security, and then start up creepy "there's something
not right" music. After that point, Young usually inundates the viewers
with dissonant, pounding music, before finally wrapping things up with
the return of the piano theme. He doesn't stray too far from this norm
in The Glass House, a sub-par, late summer thriller that's only
truly scary notion is that it got made.
Glass House's plot has a car crash kill off a husband and wife
, forcing their kids (Leelee Sobieski and Trevor Morgan) to move in with
their best friends -- the Glasses (Diane Lane and Stellen Skarsgard). Needless
to say, the Glasses are not the perfect couple they first seem to be. If
it's true that the darker it gets, the harder it is to look through a glass
house, why does this movie get more transparent as it plods along?
So while it's obvious that none of the filmmakers are putting any thought
or originality into the film, why should Young? This doesn't mean there's
no merit to the score. I find the score very accomplished -- just not surprising.
I love Young's past piano themes (Jennifer 8 and Judicial Consent
are two of his best), and this one does not disappoint, especially in the
title track and "This Too Shall Pass." The score is a bit more subdued
that the usual thriller, and Young incorporates a few violin solos to spice
things up.
If scoring these bread-and-butter movies gives Young time and money
to be able to stretch his talents on such films as The Shipping News
and Murder in the First, then I hope he keeps them coming. Long
after you've forgotten what The Glass House even was, this CD will
be around to remind you of Young's mastery of this genre. -- Cary
Wong
Ghosts of Mars ** 1/2
JOHN CARPENTER
Varèse Sarabande 302 066 286 2
12 tracks - 43:00
I happen to enjoy John Carpenter's scores. I even bought the CD to Escape
From L.A., despite the woefully misbegotten film for which it was written
(and the lackluster Shirley Walker cues that monopolized the disc) for
the few Carpenter cues it contains. I just like the guy's music, even the
oh-so-similar strains of Halloween III and Christine. There's
a punchy simplicity to his scores that hits the mark.
Alas, Ghosts of Mars misses that mark, for the most part. The
director/composer's latest offering hovers somewhere in a red void of techno-metal
that buries coherent themes in overbearing ornamentation. Carpenter's trademark
synthesizer becomes mere underpinning here, mainly acid-mix fuzztones that
dwell somewhere beneath the wailing scales and power-chords of unfortunately-named
guest artists Anthrax.
I must admit that I haven't yet seen the film, so I can't explain how,
while somewhat tedious in itself, the music works for the picture. Carpenterian
(forgive me) tidbits pop up here and there, usually for the opening 10
seconds of a cue, before the chunka-chunka-chunka riffs kick in. Now, there's
nothing wrong with this kind of thing; I mean, it's not awful, and I like
banging my head as much as the next guy, but as a score this effort falls
short.
A few cues stand out: "Dismemberment Blues," which opens on a minor-keyed
synth statement blessedly reminiscent of Carpenter's earlier work. Metal-mode
takes over halfway through this one, as well, but at least it's more or
less in accompaniment to the original theme. The title cue isn't bad, opening
on a funky four-note bass motif, with upper-register synth chords creeping
in and fine guitar work by the legendary Steve Vai. "Power Station" is
good as well, with a decent guitar lick by Scott Ian adding flavor to the
stew. At times, one gets a taste of something akin to Prince of Darkness
on steroids, but overall it's pretty generic stuff.
Well, you can't blame the guy for experimenting with a new sound. And
dammit, even as I sit here writing a review saying that it's mostly lousy,
I'm listening to the thing for the third time, toes a-tapping. Grows on
you, I guess. A note to John Carpenter, if he's reading this: Okay, you
got me again. It's not that bad...but I'll still take the Coupe de Villes
over this any ol' day.
Side Note: The sleeve gets a few demerits in my book for containing
a spoiler-iffic cue title. I hate that. A cue entitled (censored to preserve
surprise) leaves no doubt whatsoever as to what happens to (same here)
in the film. -- Chris Stavrakis
MailBag@filmscoremonthly.com
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