NOW HEAR THIS!
Film may be first and foremost a visual medium, but where would it be without music to bring out the emotions, heighten the drama, quicken the heart, create tension, and tie things together? At the cinema, while our brains are taking in the plot, and our sense of sight is absorbing all the visual elements (and our sense of taste may be pleased by popcorn), our sense of hearing takes the dialogue and – to some degree — the musical score, even if we’re understandably focused on those other things. 100 Years of Epic Film Scores, the New York Pops concert at Carnegie Hall, with its famously excellent acoustics, served to bring full attention to famous themes and exciting orchestrations wisely without film clips — no distraction of action or wondering how a storyline’s incidents would line up or crushing on a good-looking movie star.
Being able to watch a big orchestra play these dynamic dazzlers – noting which instruments handle certain phrases, the energy and focus of the musicians and conductor – is a much fuller experience than sitting on the couch at home and playing a soundtrack recording and keeping track of which tracks are not just the an overdose of the main theme recycled with only slight variations. Still, the music without the movie – even with such a top-drawer orchestra and commanding conductor to watch – is very much a listening experience for an audience. It’s worth remembering that the word “audience” is derived from the Latin word that means “the act of listening” or “a group of listeners,” itself coming from the present participle “audiens” of the verb meaning “to hear.”
Granted that some works created for the screen, while dutifully serving their functions, aren’t as compelling as other scores to be fully engaging, stand-alone listening experiences. That’s not what they were designed for. Some, especially when partnered with dialogue-heavy scenes, are modest – so as not to compete, but just to complete the experience. Some watching a movie not attuned to the value of splitting their focus may tune out the tune, but are affected subliminally. That result can be the music doing its required job while not drawing attention to itself. Reviewers and movie-goers may not very consciously be appreciating it or come away raving about the talent of the person who wrote the score. (In fact, prolific film composer Henry Mancini titled his worth-reading autobiography Did They Mention the Music?; his oeuvre wasn’t sampled this night, but should be/could be/would be a good candidate for a follow-up.)
Taking at least one example from each decade, presenting them chronologically (logically) – with a few exceptions to the rule – the event was pretty epic itself. Many of the major composers with major credits represented (once for each, with one exception). The selections favored the gloriously grand, with classic climaxes, theatrically thunderous —more sweeping than sweet, more stirring and splashy than subtle. The End Titles from Emma (by Rachel Portman) however, were more on the elegant and gentle side than the volcanic conditions in several other compositions. It was an enjoyable, exciting ride adroitly played and conducted without going for broke, even if the mix was in danger of feeling like an overabundance what had accompanied nerve-wracking, nail-biting dangers and/or disasters in the risk-filled escapades of any of the following characters: secret agent James Bond (Dr. No); plundering pirates (The Sea Hawk and Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl); hot-blooded guys in ancient Rome (Ben-Hur and Gladiator); or those having to face a vampire (1922’s Nosferatu) or a very large, intimidating individual named King Kong. The March 14th program, one month past Valentine’s Day, wasn’t big on romantic themes, eschewing such worthy potential picks as the iconic Gone with the Wind, Doctor Zhivago, A Summer Place, An Affair to Remember, Love Story or Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. OK, we’re kidding about the last one. And surely there was plenty of pleasure to be had in the generous-length two-act program.
Conductor/ music director Steven Reineke acted as host, offering some quick facts and context, such as telling about the decisions to score the scary Psycho (composed by Bernard Herrmann) for a small group of musicians and to film it in black and white were made simply to save costs and that the famous shower scene accompanied by those intentionally screechy strings suggesting slashing was almost done with no music at all. He also noted that although the music for The Godfather was deemed ineligible for an Academy Award — because a little of Nino Rota’s music had been used previously in a little-known picture — the sequel to the famous movie, using the same theme, won the Oscar. But being bestowed with that voted honor, the gold standard of recognition, you might punnily say, for composers in this field did not dictate which of a writer’s scores to present. This allowed for the program to be different from what could have been “Oscar’s Greatest Hits: The Usual Suspects” and more variety. Double-dipping rights went to John Williams, but none of his four Best Score wins won Mr. Reineke’s heart to be on the list. He pointed out that the prolific Williams (nominated for 48 Oscars over seven decades for various achievements — more than anyone else) once won and lost in the same year, being nominated for two different scores. The concert picks were Jurassic Park and, for an encore, The Empire Strikes Back’s “The Imperial March” to ring in our ears as we marched out that March evening.
photos by
100 Years of Epic Film Scores
The New York Pops
Carnegie Hall, 57th St and 7th Ave.
reviewed on March 14, 2025
