Conclusion - The Fantasy World of Danny
Elfman
I happened to listen to the Fantasy Worlds of Bernard Herrmann
(a wonderful compilation conducted by the master himself) before I wrote
this review. It's amazing how both Elfman and Herrmann could create an
entire musical world, completely cut off from our own reality. Elfman
truly fashioned a score that taps the most remote provinces of the audience's
(and Tim Burton's) imaginative mind. Had Elfman chosen not to use the
title Music for a Darkened Theater for his compilation, then it could
have been easily called the Fantasy World of Danny Elfman. This fantasy
motif allows for a rich majestic tone, heightened by an orchestral complexity
that hadn't been heard since Batman. This makes it a truly fascinating
score; although, it must be said that this masterpiece isn't without its
critics.
Many have claimed that
this score, and many others like it, are immature. The use of choir,
particularly the "oohs and ahs" of the Suburbia theme, has brought much
disdain upon Elfman. First off, I am not sure who has the authority
to brand what use of choir is mature or immature. Many composers have
gone so far as to make up their own fake language, which is far more
bizarre than having wordless lyrics. Personally, I feel that choirs,
particularly children's choirs, can be used as instruments in and of
themselves. There are surely haunting tones which a children's choir
can attain that cannot be replicated by other instruments (or adult
choirs, for that matter). In that sense, Elfman chooses the choir as
tone setter, reflecting the moods portrayed in the film. The result
is a virtual melting of tones, as if two symphonies were playing at
once. If this means using numerous "oohs and ahs" to establish a relative
gaiety, then so be it. I would rather have human emotion displayed by
a human voice, rather than a cold, unfeeling machine.
Finally, many have argued
that Elfman's music performs its task too well i.e. it upstages both
the actors and the director. This is relatively false. The music is
at its most compelling during scenes with sparse, if any, dialogue.
Tim Burton and Danny Elfman have a symbiotic relationship which transfers
over into the film. Certainly, this film could not have worked without
Elfman's music. Yet, the music would have no meaning without Burton's
vivid images from the film's sequences. This is particularly true when
the Ice Dance sequence is taken into account. The Ice Dance theme automatically
conjures up images of Winona Ryder dancing in the snow. It has been,
and always will be linked with that particular image - the two cannot
exist without each other - just as the stabbing strings of Psycho cannot
exist without the images of a shower.
Edward Scissorhands is a study in contrast. Elfman
manages to convey the innermost emotions of two lovers, and the world
that tears them apart. He captures pure rage, passionate love, and brooding
teenage angst with unparalleled skill. Yet, this score is more than an
exercise in different themes. Bernard Herrmann once described film music
as "the connecting link between celluloid and audience, reaching out and
enveloping all into one single experience." Danny Elfman does this, and
manages to capture the angelic elegance of innocence, and the darkest
depths of the jealous soul.
Not bad for a self taught
rock star. . .
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