To really talk about music, I’ve found that you can’t always limit yourself to the usual bands and artists. You can talk endlessly about the best groups and records yet there is so much more territory to cover. Strongly tied to the audible is the visual, and often one helps defines the quality of the other. Music videos were popularized in the 80’s thanks to what MTV used to be. However, before the three-minute marketing ploy, there was the silver screen.
Music has been a part of the movies even before audible dialogue. Silent films were almost always accompanied by live music: either a piano or full orchestras. Think about that.
Even with the score sheets telling musicians what to play, no performance was going to be precisely identical. There would always be that margin for error that is overcome by the ardor of having a unique experience.
The music for these pictures could really make or break the film. The score for the 1928 classic, “The Man Who Laughs,” is in my belief, impeccable. It naturally mixes the senses of whimsy, distress, affection and
action in a very real way befitting the scenarios displayed. The most horrifying character of the film is Barkilphedro, a sadistic court jester to King James II. His accompanying music consists of long jumps in notes that echo the enjoyment the character takes in his twisted machinations. Conversely, the hero of
the film, Gwynplaine, has a much more calm, reasonable and
endearing theme.
Through the use of music, the viewer is able to identify with the people on the screen much more than if they had only the visuals to assist them.
It provides a melodic language that was otherwise unavailable in
silent films.
When done properly, the genre chosen for a film’s score will reflect the style of the picture. For instance, teen
comedies will almost always feature the pop of the era, ranging from top-40 to rock to rap. That trend first began to show itself in the rock’n’roll films of the 50’s and early 60’s. One of
the most famous pictures of this era, “The Girl Can’t Help It,” has even been listed as one of the influences for The Beatles. The lead song, sharing the film’s title, is clearly foreshadowing of the sort of pop rock played by the boys from Liverpool in their
early recordings.
Although there was a time from the mid 60’s to early 70’s where classical music was often overshadowed by pop, country western and jazz, it didn’t lose is presence, not by a long shot. The genre would find new life in a sci-fi flick from a kid out of Modesto, California. “Star Wars” wasn’t the first of its genre to use classical music, but you’d be hard pressed to find someone born in the last 50 years that wouldn’t recognize that opening
horn section. Since then, classical has been the genre of choice for the science fiction crowd, with anything less usually
falling short.
I would say that horror is the most difficult genre to find appropriate music for. At the same time, it has one of the widest selections of styles that have
worked for any kind of movie. You can find examples from classical to techno, industrial to carnival, and anything in between. Often in the horror or slasher genre, it isn’t even a traditional score that functions as the music for the film. Freddy Krueger is infamous for his down right creepy nursery rhyme: Friday the
13th’s “Kill kill, ma ma,”
which was composed by Harry Manfredini for the soul purpose of haunting the audience, and Halloween’s simple soundtrack harkens back to the early piano accompaniment of the
silent pictures.
The commanding theme I’ve found among all horror films though, is the domination of presence. By that, I
mean the ability to instill in the viewer a sense of constant apprehension, knowing that with the turn of a key, all hopes of safety and security are gone.
Yet, It’s not impossible for a movie to be successful, or even great without a strong musical presence. However, I would contend that even a lack of music is using the knowledge of its power to the favor of your technique. For then it would be
like Jazz, finding its appeal in the notes that aren’t played. The Coen brothers production, “No Country For Old Men,” based on the Cormac McCarthy novel of the same name,
made especially powerful use of this technique, with more than 90 percent of the
film completely devoid of a musical score.
No matter what is done on the screen, the sounds of the story that only the audience can hear is what makes those tales truly special. You wouldn’t have Indiana Jones without his hat and whip, but you also wouldn’t have him
without that infamous, “Dun-da-dun-da-dun-da-da!” that every five year old boy has yelled
more than once.