What Does God Sound Like? Part II
-Photo from Sheila Chandra Weaving My Ancestor’s Voices
I heard something about music once and never forgot it. It was about a young Frank Zappa. He had brought a Beach Boys song to his music teacher in grade school and asked a question: Why do I like this so much?
I find it fascinating that we can learn a great deal about how music works, analyze a song from every angle, understand and express it in fairly complex terms, and yet our fundamental relationship to music is still kinesthetic. It’s still about how it makes you feel. I recall a fellow student warning me my freshman year at school that the study of music would take away the magic, that I would never experience it the same way again.
That never happened to me. It doesn’t matter how closely I study the technical aspects of music, how fine my examination of the individual parts; I never find the man behind the curtain.
So, weren’t we talking about cinema, and the use of music and sound?
I find some directors are gifted visually, but should leave the musical choices to someone else. Some, however, have a real ear for music and can combine the two beautifully. In Henry’s first scene as a grownup in Good Fellas, Martin Scorsese used a version of the song “Stardust”, with Ray Liotta and Joe Pesci leaning up against a car, the crooning lyrics, “Sometimes… I wonder…” I have watched that movie so many times I wouldn’t even want to try and estimate, but this scene still resonates. In another, Mr. Scorsese juxtaposes violence with a serene melody by Donovan called “Atlantis.” He just repeats that chorus again and again, “Way down… below the ocean…”, while Pesci and De Niro viciously attack a character named Billy Batts. The violence is not pretty, but the song is, and that contrast is pure Scorcese. I’m not sure why, but there’s something about Martin’s work that tells me I would love to have him in my audience. Of course anyone would; that’s no surprise, but Martin in particular because he seems uniquely supportive of music. There’s an obvious passion there.
Do you know the film Risky Business? That movie uses music brilliantly, and the opening titles may be the best example. Tangerine Dream’s moody, atmospheric theme blends so seamlessly with the the rhythmic clatter of Chicago’s elevated train it’s as if they were made for each other. Also extremely evocative, seamless and satisfying is Muddy Waters’ “Mannish Boy” layered over the entrance of beautiful callgirls and well scrubbed high school kids into the Goodson’s home. It’s a sublime choice that works on a number of levels. One, the genuine, raw sexuality of the music is perfect for the scene. It’s also funny: Joel and his friends aren’t what we would normally picture when we hear Muddy Waters’ music. But it works. What’s more, it speaks to Joel’s own transformation from a boy to a man, later symbolized in his mother’s broken crystal egg. Talking Heads’ “Swamp” fits into that scene wonderfully, too.
Also exquisite is the Jeff Beck piece our filmmaker chooses when Joel and his friend Barry (played brilliantly by Bronson Pinchot; I love him in this movie) first take Joel’s father’s porsche out for a ride on the town. Who made these choices!? Was it writer and first time director Paul Brickman? He should win an award for his musical discretion, and for the atmosphere and stylishness of this film.
On top of all that, Tangerine Dream’s original scoring for this film is arguably their best. To me, this movie is a genuine accomplishment. I wondered what critics had to say. Would they like it? I found most did, with some very high praise. Roger Ebert stated the film not only invited comparison with The Graduate, it earned it.
Interestingly, I also found this in Ebert’s review: “Paul Brickman, who wrote and directed, has an ear so good that he knows what to leave out.” Exactly! That’s what I’ve been saying.
There are a number of positive reviews at rottentomatoes.com, but for some reason this one from variety.com is first:
High schooler Tom Cruise could literally be a next-door neighbor to Timothy Hutton in Ordinary People on Chicago’s affluent suburban North Shore. That changes virtually overnight, however, when he meets sharp-looking hooker Rebecca DeMornay. On the lam from her slimy pimp, she shacks up in Cruise’s splendid home while his parents are out of town and, since he’s anxious to prove himself as a Future Enterpriser in one of his school’s more blatantly greed-oriented programs, convinces him to make the house into a bordello for one night.
Ultimately, pic seems to endorse the bottom line, going for the big buck. In fact, not only is Cruise rewarded financially for setting up the best little whorehouse in Glencoe, but it gets him into Princeton to boot. Writer-director Paul Brickman can therefore be accused of trying to have it both ways, but there’s no denying the stylishness and talent of his direction.
Is Brickman trying to have it both ways? I didn’t get that. Joel notes early on that his friends seem only interested in money, and show an inordinate failure of interest in helping their fellow man. I think we get the impression though, that Joel is different. Lana’s ability to manipulate him, for example, though certainly based on her beauty and smarts and his naivete, also comes out of his compassion for her and her friend. Joel’s acquiescence and subsequent success in providing said service for his wealthy friends, as well as a Princeton admissions officer, seems to me more the coming of age in a corrupt society than an affront to that compassion.
All of this playing out over Muddy’s visceral, sexual Mannish Boy. This is good filmmaking. But wait, did I get off on a tangent about movies and lose the thread of music? Well, hopefully you liked what you heard.
