Clarity in Composition

By Dan Hobgood

Reasonable Consistency in Musical Communication

Something I tried to demonstrate in an article for Film Score Daily entitled "Thoughts on Film Score Unity" was that musical agreement and coherence contribute like nothing else to a score's storytelling quotient. Musical unity provides a picture with a sense of homogeneity, and, by means of necessary gesture variation (as opposed to discrete differences), it imparts upon a score a kind of directional quality. In general, a film composer should arrange a score the same way that any skilled writer designs an essay; a work should have a specific spirit -- an overall theme -- that is developed from start to finish in a logical manner.

Of course, the reason a writer organizes his work in this manner is because he wants to make it as easy as possible for his reader to comprehend what he writes. Subsequently, he trusts that if he communicates eloquently, his reader will be more inclined to accept his thesis than if he were to write disjointedly. A film composer's incentive for writing coherent scores should not be any different; providing musical cooperation to the cues in a score lessens the analytical burden upon a listener, thus prompting its essence to resound more greatly.

Even though this is so, however, relatively few film composers seem to recognize the importance of accessible unity in film music -- and the benefits to an audience that accrue as a result of its employment. John Barry is one of my favorite contemporary composers, yet, many times, his music is not exceptional within the context of a score. (Some of his works, though, are very well crafted. Body Heat, Somewhere in Time, The Specialist, and Indecent Proposal immediately come to mind.) While his compositional style is extremely accessible, he tends to overwhelm his scores with an abundance of melodies. These musics often are not consistently related to each other structurally and first and foremost function to establish atmosphere rather than provide keen dramatic insight. When Barry crafts a score in this fashion, the overall artistic statement he tries to make is not as pervasive as it should be. In comparing the great majority of Barry's scores for the "Bond" franchise to his successor David Arnold's two efforts (or, for that matter, in comparing Barry's Dances with Wolves to Arnold's Last of the Dogmen), there is no question that Arnold's works contain greater unity. The result is that his expression is more clearly pronounced for a visually predisposed film-going audience.

Barry might respond to my criticism by claiming that the world of James Bond is too broad for a substantial degree of musical unity. Five years ago, I might have agreed. But, in the time since taking over the franchise's musical reigns, David Arnold has shown how employing such melodic unity is possible and very effective. Not only is there thorough unity within Arnold's scores, but between them as well. His musical gestures even bear relationship to "The James Bond Theme," which, musically, represents the series as a whole. Not since Goldsmith composed scores for Rambo:First Blood, Part II and Rambo III has there been this level of fluency in sequel scores, if even then. Brilliant!

Granted, the way that John Barry generally writes scores is perhaps more distinguishable and appealing in the context of a soundtrack album...but, as I have already indicated, that is more or less irrelevant when assessing the quality of a film score. A film composer must submit himself to the needs of an audience and picture based upon the nature of the medium. Again, no composer should fraudulently abuse the industry for profit. [For the record, I should state that I do not think John Barry intentionally tries to market himself at the expense of the industry and do not know of any evidence that warrants such a charge against him. My assumption is that Barry -- a relatively self-taught dramatist in what was still a rather primitive era for learning the practice -- simply did not realize the extraordinarily delicate importance of consistency in expression in film music. (I do think it possible, however, that some up-and-coming composers want acclaim for themselves more than they want it for the films they score.)]

Now, although the approach to film scoring Jerry Goldsmith has fashioned is quite admirable as regards musical consistency, I believe it can be developed even further. Beyond crafting a score in which all musical gestures are derived from an initial, overall statement, a film composer should pen a film's primary theme in a way that makes it capable -- in some form -- of representing all of the elements within the bounds of a production's story. All of a picture's rudiments reflect upon and contribute to its essential resolution or narrative statement; therefore, they should share ownership of a film's encompassing musical theme to a certain extent. Think about it this way: whereas Goldsmith emphasizes that everything should correspond to the primary theme, I assert that the primary theme should correspond to everything. (This comment might appear tautological at first glance, but there is a difference between these two approaches. Distinguishing them is the degree to which Goldsmith and I might conclude thematic/melodic variation is warranted or desired.) James Horner's The Man Without a Face and David Newman's Galaxy Quest are two scores I consider ideal; both contain dynamic melodies that vary to match all of the different emotional conditions of the two respective films and the perspectives of the characters involved. Goldsmith's The Challenge and First Blood also feature dynamically applied melodic material and personify my film music theory. So too does the aforementioned Last of the Dogmen. For it, composer David Arnold wrote a versatile melodic theme and cleverly extracted the various fragments from it (most frequently a series of three notes from the theme's bridge) to derive his ensuing score. (As a result, Arnold's score never sounds either overly repetitive or melodically eclectic.) Even if these composers did not realize the benefits of structuring these scores in the ways they did (which is highly unlikely), their works still illustrate how such an approach can help a film composer to communicate with clarity to his listener.

Additional Remarks

Still, a few remaining issues that need to be addressed. For example, just because a film composer should concentrate on the dramatic implication of his musical contribution to a picture, it does not mean the aesthetic value in a film composer's score is immaterial. Even Goldsmith has implied that his music has to sound appealing -- to as universal an extent as possible -- so that an audience "will be hooked." (15) Furthermore, just as a film composer cannot convey a sense of horror with C-major (generally speaking), a composer cannot convey a sense of splendor or love if his music does not evoke those emotions. Basically this means that while the aesthetic value of a film score should not be over-appreciated, it should not be under-appreciated either. In evaluating a score, one needs to make sure that any aesthetic criticism applies to a score's position within the context of a film and that he consider and thoroughly explain any dramatic consequences that relate to the nature of his critique.

Also, at one moment in his commentary for Hollow Man, Goldsmith mentions how important it is to him that he satisfy his personal creative and artistic desires when writing a film score.(16) His comments in this instance initially might seem to contradict his earlier remarks and my arguments; in actuality, they serve to reinforce them. Goldsmith says, "There has to be some point in filmmaking where [one is not] doing everything just for the audience (emphasis mine)."(17) He says later, "[Doing everything for the audience is] not what life is about completely (emphasis mine again)."(18)With these remarks, the composer actually indicates just how much he does try to communicate the story of a film in a musical language that is accessible to his listener.

Additionally, Goldsmith's needs to satisfy his artistic desires and serve his audience are not mutually-exclusive demands -- at least judging by the clarity in communication present in virtually all of the scores that he has composed throughout his career. When the composer describes his desire to write music that satisfies his creative impulses, I speculate that he simply refers to certain artistic decisions such as his refusal to use violins in the string ensemble for his score for Tora! Tora! Tora! Thus, Goldsmith does not shortchange an audience in any way by satisfying whatever artistic urges he may have. What he does seem to do, however, is add slight obscurities to his works in order to ensure that their appeal lasts beyond one's first exposure to them; such compositional intricacy should probably be expected from a skilled craftsman.

Something else of pertinence to this essay is an interesting conversation I had with an acquaintance of mine at the University of Richmond (located in Virginia) a few years back. During our exchange, this associate, a classical music enthusiast, stated her objections to the art of film music. Meanwhile, I of course did all I could to emphasize the credibility of the genre and its value to those pursuing greater scholarly understanding of the communicative potential of music. (Ultimately, the conversation formed the basis for my first article for Film Score Daily, written in September 1999.)

First, my acquaintance criticized film music as lacking substance. I merely disagreed. Her opinion is hers, and mine is mine. Truly, there is no argument that film music aficionados can make to convince the art form's detractors that their musical tastes are "bad" or vice-versa.

Second, though, and most important, my associate dismissed film music because she believes it to be regressive and imitative, stylistically. Regardless of whatever her scholarship, this particular criticism is, without doubt, an unsophisticated one...although not because what she said is untrue. In point of fact, film music is exactly as she asserted -- but intentionally so, and that is what weakens her argument. As Goldsmith described to NBC's former Hollywood correspondent Jim Brown in an interview that aired on the day of the composer's Carnegie Hall concert in 1998, film music has to be "accessible."(19) This is the case because of important reasons examined all throughout this essay.

The accessible nature of film music may be elementary to many a music scholar, but given the rationale for music in film, the commercial nature of the medium, and the gravity of the need for clear expression, a film composer must aim his communicative effort towards the portion of his audience that is not exceptionally musically skilled or literate. By doing so, a film composer can ensure that his statement is relevant to as much of his audience as possible. Moreover, in an economical and imperfect world, it is much better that a film composer's music slight the intelligence of a few rather than fail to register with the vast majority of his listeners. After all, even if these intelligent few feel insulted, they will be able to understand that which a film composer wants to communicate -- likely even better than those towards whom a film composer directs his effort. A film composer's alternative is to disregard the majority of his audience for the sake of catering to the refined needs of a few. Simply put, that is unacceptable. Ultimately, a film composer, just like Mr. Spock in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, must give preference to "the needs of the many" over "the needs of the few...or the one."(20)

Conclusion

Following the publication of the January 2001 issue of Film Score Monthly magazine, it is finally official: I am the last person to rave about Goldsmith's Hollow Man commentary. Nonetheless, I express my wholehearted enthusiasm for the feature. In it, Goldsmith reaffirms the importance of clarity in film music composition by indicating that a film composer must 1) communicate effectively to his audience and 2) be reasonably consistent in such communication. Any potential aesthetic and creative demands, although important, should not detract from a film composer's capacity to accomplish these objectives satisfactorily. Furthermore, in a society of people where there are differing levels of musical awareness and comprehension, a film composer should not ignore the needs of the majority of his listeners for the benefit of a cultured few.

The criticisms music scholars maintain in relation to film music indicate all the more why industry enthusiasts should be careful to avoid evaluating a score strictly on the basis of its musical quality and/or originality. Classical music devotees can recall forever that even the most progressive of film scores -- such as many works composed by Alex North or Leonard Rosenman -- still owe much to preconceived musical ideas that emanated from classical circles. Film music aficionados' fixed concentration on film scores' musical significance only fuels critics' unflattering assessment of the industry...and its fans. Moreover, another reason why one should be careful not to value a score's experimentation, etc. too highly is because it is certainly possible for film music to be original or daring to a fault. In order for a film composer to communicate to an audience, he must speak in a musical language that an audience can understand. This is why it is fundamentally erroneous for one to criticize a film score for its uninspired musical value.

Filmgoers should recognize the importance of communication and compositional consistency in film music and celebrate these concepts with greater fervor. It is by means of replacing an analytical concentration on a film score's musical quality with a focus upon a score's dramatic significance that the art form and its most noteworthy practitioners will finally receive proper respect. In addition, classical music admirers (hopefully) will come to realize that their criticism regarding the regressive tone of film music is not sound. In other words, through such a critical transition, listeners will understand that what accounts for a film score's artistic quality is not the value of the music in and of itself...but rather how clearly a film composer communicates a picture's message(s)/story to his audience through the language of music.

Lastly, just as Goldsmith testifies that he sometimes does things through his artistry that he alone intends to appreciate, parts of his Hollow Man commentary will appeal to those who hear it in very personal ways. Despite the fact that I had read so much about the commentary before listening to it, I found that my favorite moments were those that, to the best of my knowledge, had not received any mention (at least at the time). Thus, in closing, my advice to everyone regarding Jerry Goldsmith's commentary for Hollow Man is this: Just listen to it. Most of the composer's remarks will appeal to just about everybody. Nevertheless, anyone not yet having heard it will likely find something over the course of its length that has meaning especially for him.
 

1 Jerry Goldsmith's Hollow Man commentary.
2 Ibid.
3 Ibid.
4 Goldsmith, Jerry. Interview. The Today Show. October 4, 1998.
5 Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. Directed by Nicholas Meyer. Performances by William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, and DeForest Kelley. Paramount Pictures. 1982.
 
 

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