Thursday, December 30, 2010

Batman Soundtrack Reviews Part 2 - Batman Returns

Part two in a series of pieces examining the various soundtracks that have accompanied the live-action Batman films from 1989-2008.



BATMAN RETURNS
by Danny Elfman


After the phenomenal success of Batman, Tim Burton spun one of his most personal and creative yarns in Edward Scissorhands before returning to the superhero. His follow-up, Batman Returns, was far darker than its predecessor, a grim tragedy enlivened by its offbeat humor with only occasional flashes of heroism. Its heart rests in the romance between Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle, beautifully capturing two lonely souls finding each other before tearing them apart through their secret lives as Batman and Catwoman. It's a rich yarn, enhanced by wonderful performances by Michael Keaton and Michelle Pfieffer. Its plot rests largely with the film’s other primary villain, the Penguin, a hideously deformed man abandoned by his parents and raised by Penguins in the sewers of Gotham. It’s an ugly (and funny) portrait of loneliness itself. These powerful personal stories are set amidst a backdrop of fantastic atmosphere and stunning visual design that make it a unique and fascinating production.
But for all the film’s success in characterization and thematic depth, it fails in many ways when it comes to the superheroic elements. In Batman, the sheer energy of the film overcame the somewhat clumsy staging of fights and chases, but the more restrained Returns can’t pull that off, and the action sequences are rather lame. It’s also an awfully grisly, gloomy, sensuous, and very adult tale for a PG-13 flick about a guy dressing up like a bat to beat up criminals. Audiences at the time had understandably mixed reactions, with parents decrying its MPAA rating as a joke. Comic-book fans praise its dark complexity to the high heavens (deservedly), while others are left cold by its poor action, not to mention the sheer weirdness of the film (understandably). It’s a strange and uneven film with moments of cinematic brilliance.


Danny Elfman’s score is equally uneven. In its best moments, it’s a remarkable companion piece to Batman; in others, it’s almost unbearably whacked-out.


The opening track starts with the lonely trumpet beginning the Batman theme before turning to Elfman's gloomy Penguin theme. Like before, the instrumentation is very creative, with a brief but spectacular pipe organ solo and haunting vocals reminiscent of the (much brighter) chorals in Edward Scissorhands. In fact, the entire opening feels in many ways like the dark side of that score. It's a terrific piece, alternately brooding and fantastic before finally starting up the still-rousing Batman theme a few minutes in.


There's something missing in the performance, though. For the original, Shirley Walker directed the London Symphony Orchestra; here, Elfman conducted an LA-based orchestra. The original performances of the theme were deep and powerful, full of fire and passion. The London Symph poured their hearts and souls into their performances, and Walker directed them magnificently, and the passion comes through. In Returns, though, it sounds professional but somehow empty; there's none of the sonic depth or fiery performance of the old recording. Still, it's good to hear the old themes.


After the opening, the score descends into mostly murky gloom, punctuated by occasional comic beats. It's weird and unsettling, and while it's appropriate for the penguin, the lack of drive and energy is tiring. It's also not terribly emotional outside of the first and last passages of the score; just sort of interesting. The dismal atmosphere and comic outbursts don't mesh -- which, to be fair, is often true of the film, too, which uneasily brews black comedy, tragic romance, and clumsy fight scenes; the setting is almost always steeped in shadow and German expressionisms, but then throws in a giant motorized rubber ducky for the Penguin to ride around in. It's really strange, and the score reflects this accurately to its own detriment. When the score finally gets around to Catwoman's theme, it's refreshing just to hear something different.


Catwoman's theme uses high-pitched violin screeches to suggest the sounds that cats make, underlaied with gloomy undertones. It nails the concept, and really does sound like a musical recreation of a woman expressing pure feline instincts. It also sounds extraordinarily like a cat's meow.

Now let me be clear about something: a cat's meow is not a pleasant sound. It's a high-pitched squeal with only a single meaning. When dogs bark, it can be scary, but it can just as often be a joyful exclamation. Barks can show a full range of emotion, and it's elating hearing a happy bark. A meow, on the other hand, always means precisely one thing: "You're not paying enough attention to My Lordship." It's as grating as nails on a chalkboard and even more malevolent. The cat wants nothing more than to make everything, including you, smell like him, and you can hear it in his voice. So when I say that Elfman captures this concept perfectly, I mean to say that it's a brilliant achievement that works its purpose nicely in both the film and on the CD, but more than about two minutes of it is almost unbearable.

There's something like twenty minutes of it on the soundtrack. The portions of the score devoted to her get downright painful despite the remarkable creativity. Where it works beautifully is in the climax of the film, where it's mixed with other tones and used sparingly to heartbreaking effect. If only it hadn't been so difficult to get to that wonderful finale.


Every now and then, there's an action cue, but somehow these are never as exciting as they should be. The brass has none of the power it should, and often sounds rather muted. In the otherwise dismal mid-sections of the score, these should be a highlight, but they fall oddly flat.


Inexplicably, the score is missing a theme (or really even an acknowledgement) of the romance. Elfman is capable of heartrending compositions, but didn't even attempt to give the love story its own life.


Whatever the scores many problems, though, the final tracks are well worthwhile. "The Children's Hour" starts with a gorgeous music-box rendition of the Penguin score before finally revving up some real action cues. They're not on the level of Batman's "Charge of the Batmobile" or similar pieces, but they have the excitement the previous such bits lacked. The following two-part "Final Confrontation" is a wild ride of very Elfmanish wackiness -- thrillingly eerie, exciting, and fascinating. "The Finale Part I" at last delivers the full force of tragedy that the Penguin's music has been hinting at throughout, and "The Finale Part II" is a devastating conclusion to Catwoman's tale. Near the end, it transitions to a quiet, haunting statement of Batman's theme before returning to the tragedy.


And then, as the film's final, surprising image comes up, it at last crescendoes into the exhilerating Batman theme in "End Credits." The rest of the track is a suite of the other two primary themes, beautiful and fascinating.


Afterwards, there is the pop song "Face to Face", and interesting oddity Elfman co-wrote for the ballroom scene. It's interesting (and works wonderfully in the context of the film), but doesn't really match the rest of the score. Perhaps if Elfman had used part of the song for a love theme, it would have felt less awkward on the album. Still, it's here for completion's sake.




So, for all its faults, the score does deliver a strong if inferior sequel score in its first 5 and last 20 minutes and has a very interesting albeit off-putting theme for Catwoman in the mid-section. It's a slog getting from the opening to closing, and unlike the previous album, which is a must-buy, this one is really only for Elfman fans and genre completists. Definitely an interesting score, whatever the case.
RATING: * * 1/2

Batman Soundtracks Reviews -- Part One

Part one of a series of pieces examining the various soundtracks that have accompanied the live-action Batman films from 1989-2008.


BATMAN
by Danny Elfman




The release of Tim Burton’s flawed but thrilling Batman in 1989 lit a firestorm of comic-book adaptations that Richard Donner’s spectacular Superman somehow failed to do in 1978. Burton’s dark, stylish approach and the rich contributions of a remarkable cast and crew made for a terrific show, despite some weaknesses in characterization and Burton’s sometimes-clunky action scenes. It became the highest-grossing film of its year, beating such strong contenders as Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and Lethal Weapon 2. Its success fueled a slew of comic-book adaptations such as Dick Tracy, The Crow and The Mask.
Among the most important contributions to the film was Danny Elfman’s sensational score, a complex and magnificent volley of triumphant brass, wild percussion, a crazed approach for the villain, and a remarkably thoughtful quieter side.

Elman’s theme for the titular hero heard in “Main Title” starts with a lonely, rising trumpet, slowly joined by the orchestra before a stunning outburst of orchestra and choir ignites an exhilarating theme. Much like John Williams’ Superman theme, the melody defines the character so perfectly that it’s hard to think of one without the other. Batman/Bruce Wayne is a complex character, a quiet, brooding, and violent man tortured by tragedy and his own darkness, but always driven to great deeds and heroism. His theme in the score is a rousing trumpet melody that rises in minor and falls in major to capture his duality; he is both heroic and frightening, and this element is perfectly represented. It’s a magnificent overture, and the theme blazes through the various action tracks – most powerfully in “Charge of the Batmobile” – but also moves more elegantly with strings when necessary. It’s a knockout theme.


Elman’s other themes aren’t as unforgettable, but they’re consistently solid. The Joker’s theme is appropriately bizarre, an over-the-top carnival sound that nails the character’s energy, psychotic bursts of violence, and whacked-out sense of humor in an appropriately offbeat way. His own theme climaxes in “Waltz to the Death,” adding a perfectly crazed contrast to the driving action cues surrounding it (and the montage it accompanies in the film of the Joker forcing Vicki Vale to dance with him while Batman fights his henchmen). The henchmen are represented by odd, fast-paced percussions that are lots of fun to listen to.

The quieter side of the score is surprisingly thoughtful. The Joker gets a lyrical bit of weirdness for his more contemplative moments, while a fleeting love theme works to emphasize the short nature of the romance between Bruce Wayne and Vicki Vale.
The instrumentation throughout is remarkably creative, layering trumpets in contrast to each other, adding power to the action with a pipe organ, and using a piano for emotions both tender and intense.

The score is perfectly structured; except for the blast of the main theme in the first track, the various themes are built slowly but surely. The first two-thirds is more brooding with only occasional bursts of action before the stunning last third, culminating in the rousing “Finale,” one of the finest pieces of cinematic musical heroism ever created.

Elfman’s Batman score is a truly remarkable work, one of the true classics of film soundtracks, a must for any soundtrack collector or lover of rousing orchestral themes, and a worthwhile effort for anyone interested in this sort of music.

Rating: * * * *