It Knows What Scares You

Sorry, D

I know that I've written about Tobe Hooper's Poltergeist several times. And there's a very good reason for that: it's a true modern genre classic. And I'll get to the why's and wherefores in just a minute.

First, I would like to note that Poltergeist serves as one of four movies with which I can always win a bar bet. I've seen this film so many times, you can play any scene without dialogue and I can tell you exactly what's happening on screen just by listening to the score. The other movies I can do this with are Raiders of the Lost Ark; Psycho and the original version of King Kong. I know my sister can also do this with Poltergeist; probably with Raiders... and maybe with Kong. But that's beside the point...

The Freelings are a typical suburban family of the early 1980's. Father Steven (Craig T. Nelson) is a successful realtor in Cuesta Verde, the planned California community in which they reside. Mom Diane (Jobeth Williams) is young and hip, while rebellious teenaged daughter Dana (Dominique Dunne) and her younger siblings Robbie (Oliver Robins) and Carol Anne (Heather O'Roarke) are typical kids. They all live typically messy suburban lives. A construction team installing their in-ground pool has the backyard in a tizzy, while the death of the family canary Tweety has Carol Anne wanting a canary funeral and Robby wanting to dig Tweety up after it rots.* One night, while Steven and Diane fall asleep in front of the TV, Carol Anne comes in to watch the post Anthem buzz (this was before the days of 24 hour cable) and begins talking to the "TV people." Soon, furniture in the kitchen begins to rearrange itself and Carol Anne can slide across the kitchen floor without being pushed. These seemingly harmless events soon escalate and Carol Anne is eventually captured by the "TV People" during a thunderstorm, her voice crying out from the TV for help. 

At their wits' end, the Freelings call in a team of parapsychologists, led by Dr. Lesh (Beatrice Straight) who brings her assistants Ryan (Richard Lawson) and Marty (Martin Casella). After a particularly awful night in the house in which Marty sees himself tearing off his own face, Dr. Lesh calls in diminutive psychic Tangina (Zelda Rubenstein), who sends Steven on a journey through the Other Side to rescue Carol Anne from the 'Beast' which holds her captive. Tangina declares the house 'clean,' though the horror isn't over. It is eventually discovered (after Diane spends some horrifying moments among the corpses in her unfinished pool) that Steven's boss, developer Teague (James Karen) has built Cuesta Verde on an old cemetery where he moved the headstones, but left the bodies. The Freeling's house is eventually consumed by a psychic black hole.

Tobe Hooper, best known as the writer and director of the original The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, had his undisputed best success with Poltergeist, though there are those who would argue that producer Steven Spielberg actually directed the movie. There are 'Speilbergian' touches all over the place, including his trademark close-ups and reaction shots. Of course, the performances of the (mostly) then unknown cast that make Poltergeist so good. Nelson and Williams are just terrific as the suburbanites who find themselves up against forces beyond their comprehension, while the accomplished Straight (Network) lends gravitas to the role of the bewildered parapsychologist (and I must admit to using part of her performance to inform my own performance in a college production of Equus). Add loads of foreshadowing in the brilliant script from Spielberg, Michael Grais and Mark Victor; a creepy clown doll; a terrifying tree; a ceiling crawl and amazing effects from Jeff Jarvis, Jose Abel and company, and you have the iconic ghost movie of all time. Oh, and then there's Jerry Goldsmith's aforementioned score. Genius doesn't even begin to cover how brilliantly Goldsmith was able to musically convey what's happening on screen. Can you say "Perfect Movie?"

Sadly, increasingly inferior sequels and the unfortunate deaths of several actors involved in the film and it's sequels (including young Heather O'Roarke's untimely death from an intestinal blockage and the murder of Dominique Dunne at the hands of an unstable ex) have led to a bizarre, cultish following to what should be considered one of the 80's best horror films.

Unfortunately, a completely unnecessary remake has been announced, though I (for one) am hoping the project never comes to fruition. Poltergeist remains one of the few ghost movies that scares, entertains and fascinates all at the same time. Any remake would have to prove exceptionally extraordinary to be worth seeing. Personally, I don't see that happening.

More, anon.

Prospero

The Most Irrelevant of Irrelevancies

Most of you know how I feel about Awards shows in general, so it should be no surprise that I really hate the Grammys. 

And please excuse me while I go into "Old Guy Ranting" mode here, but the majority of popular music today is just plain crap. Oh, don't get me wrong - there are exceptions. I adore Adele and I am thrilled that she won Album of the Year; Record of the Year; Song of the Year, etc., etc. I can also appreciate a good dance beat (LMFAO or Lady Gaga, anyone?) and no one loves a great ballad like I do. And Best Musical Theatre Album for The Book Of Mormon? Yes! 

Betty White added another award to her showcase for Best Spoken Word Album. Really, who doesn't love America's Grandmother? I know I do. But Best Score for Visual Media to The King's Speech? Did no one listen to Howard Shore's magical score for Hugo? And honestly, no one really cares about Best Country Album; Best Instrumental Arrangement for Accompanying Vocalist(s) or Best Regional Roots Music Album. Well, maybe those nominated care. Still...

Music has always played an important part in my life. Dad was a classical music fan, while Mom loves Elvis and old school Country. I grew listening to Wagner; Orbison; Mozart; Presley; Beethoven; Nelson; Sibelius; Cline; Verdi and Parton. In high school, I listened to Disco and Musical Theatre and discovered the true genius of the Beatles in college, while dancing to the B-52's; Sinead O'Connor; X; Siouxsie and the Banshees and any number of 80's bands. But my true love always has been (and always will be) Film Scores. I know I've mentioned that the majority of my music collection is made up of Film Scores. I suppose I love them because the composers are very deliberately trying to evoke an emotional response and when they succeed in doing so, it just makes me happy.

But back to the Grammys. The only Awards Show with more categories than the Oscars, the Grammys are also the most superfluous. Music is probably the most subjective art form around, and while I like to think my musical taste is eclectic, many would consider it 'weird.' Of course, many people consider me weird, so what do I know? I just think it is so silly to give awards for any art, end even more so for music. One man's noise is another's symphony.

More, anon.
Prospero

The Geekiest Thing You'll See This Week

This is a picture of a young person named "Pickle." Or, at least, someone called "Pickle." As it happens, I actually went to high school (and performed on stage) with a kid who was nick-named "Pickle."

The "Pickle" in this picture is not my high school friend. I have no idea where either of these "Pickles" are, but if you were called "Pickle" in high school, went to Woodrow Wilson and was in Bye, Bye Birdie and Godspell there, look me up on Facebook. And, like a great "Simpsons" episode, this opening actually has very little to do with the brunt of this post (I love that word. "Brunt." So butch!).

Anyhoo... This is really more about the fact that the Pickle in this picture is apparently a huge Star Wars fan and he (I think it's a he - I can't imagine a girl being called "Pickle." That wouldn't be appropriate at all, would it?) is simply the first amusing result I found on Google Images for "Star Wars fan."

So then, this post is really about two very special kinds of geeks (both of which I am proud to call myself). So watch this video, and then come back for the discussion. 'We'll tawk; we'll have cawfee. No big whoop.'

As I said, this advertisement appeals to two very specific (though often over-lapping) kinds of fanboys. First, and most obviously, it is aimed at Star Wars geeks. My friend Dan is a massive Star Wars and Star Trek geek. Whenever I come across Geek News, I email it to him (this time I'm emailing a link to this post - Hi Danny! Love ya!). Personally, while I like both franchises, there's a special place in my heart for the original Star Wars trilogy. I was in high school (ah - a link to the opening paragraphs - genius!) when the first movie came out. Having grown up on American Sci-Fi from the 50's and 60's and Japanese Sci-Fi from the 60's and 70's, I expected little more than an action-oriented version of The Green Slime. Needless to say, like for everyone else seeing that movie on a big screen for the first time, Star Wars was a revelatory experience. I imagine audiences seeing the original King Kong felt much the same way. So yes, I fall in to the first category, though not as deeply as some.

The second Geek Squad is comprised of fans obsessed with film scores and soundtracks. Of the nearly 700 CDs in my collection, the vast majority of them are films scores and/or soundtracks. From the obscure (Forbidden Zone) to the seminal (A Clockwork Orange); the abstract (Howard Shore's glorious scores for The Fly and The Cell) to the iconic (Bernard Herrman's Psycho), and just about every thing in-between. It is here that I really let my freak flag fly. there are few films without scores, but many films that would have been dismal failures wihout them. That rhythmic bass from Jaws; the 'screaming violins' from Psycho; Darth Vader's March from Star Wars... iconic notes from today's modern classical composers; as integral to those films' successes as the script, direction, camera-work, lighting, costumes, scenery and performances.

Man, I really am a movie geek, aren't I? sigh...
More, anon.
Prospero

Inappropriate Movie Scores

I first came across these on Bits and Pieces , which linked to Trailer Trasher, which then led me to seek out more on YouTube. Some enterprising person, with more time on his/her (probably his) hands than he/she knows what to do with, applies hilarious music to scenes from popular films which change the mood and intention of the scenes, entirely. I found myslef laughing out loud more than once.

Trailer Trasher picked their favorite 18. Here, in no particular order, are my favorites:

Raiders of the Lost Ark



Kill Bill, Vol. 1



A Clockwork Orange



Gone with the Wind



Pulp Fiction



And my second favorite: Titanic



And my very favorite and most hilarious: The Exorcist



Do you have a favorite Inappropriate Movie Score? Let me know.

More, anon.
Prospero

10 Great Film Scores

Since I won't have a movie to review until after I've seen Hellboy II: The Golden Army tomorrow night, I'd thought I'd keep going with the lists. Why not? I mean, it's my blog, right?

Film scores are the new classical music, using themes and orchestrations unlike any other modern musical style. Film score composers have an additional challenge in matching their music with what's happening on screen (not to mention matching the director's vision); accenting and complimenting the film, without overpowering it. It's a delicate balance that's hard to achieve. My personal music collection, while fairly large and very ecclectic, is dominated by film scores and soundtracks and they are what I listen to when I need artistic inspiration.

So, here are my 10 favorite film scores, not in any particular order:

The Fly - Howard Shore. David Cronenberg's remake of the classic Sci-fi/Horror movie speaks on so many subjects - madness, cancer, AIDS, relationships, technology gone wrong - the audience is swept along on an emotional rollercoaster unrivaled by any horror movie before or since. Shore's stunning score is near-perfect, evoking emotional responses that rival the powerful images (and superb performances from both Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis) on the screen. Shore and Cronenberg recently turned The Fly into an opera, which has critics raving. I can't wait to both hear and see it.

Braveheart - James Horner. Mel Gibson's flawed epic may be historically inaacurate and homophobic, but Horner's soaring, heroic score is nothing short of breathtaking. While playing Ross in a production of "Macbeth" a few years ago, I listened to it on my way to the theatre every night for inspiration.

Titus - Eliot Goldenthal. Julie Tamor directed one of the best Shakespearean films ever made and her husband's ecclectic and violent score is both hilarious and touching, evoking classical opera, war-chants and anarchistic punk jazz in a fusion of styles as varied as the visual styles on screen.

Vertigo - Bernard Herrman. Herrman was Hitchcock's go-to guy when it came to scoring his classic thrillers. It is Herrman who is responsible for what may be the most iconic movie music of all time; Psycho's "screaming violins." But Vertigo finds both director and composer at the top of their games. Herrman's dizzying and suspenseful score is probably one of the best ever.

Edward Scissorhands - Danny Elfman. Elfman gets a lot of grief; his prolific output (mostly for the films of Tim Burton) is the butt of jokes from the likes of the MST3K gang and movie and music bloggers everywhere. But his lush, mournful score for Burton's second-best film (after Ed Wood, which Elfman did not score) is simply gorgeous and it evokes the movie's romance and pathos quite perfectly.

Gladiator - Hans Zimmer & Lisa Gerrard. Hands down, Zimmer is simply the best film composer working today, and his score (along with wife Lisa Gerrard) for Ridley Scott's sword and sandal epic is nothing short of Wagnerian. Evoking themes from Holst, Vivaldi, Beethoven and more; Zimmer and Gerrard's music soars and inspires, both emotionally and spiritually. The husband and wife team are also the only members of the new-agey ambient band, Dead Can Dance.

Star Wars - John Williams. Come on. I mean, really now. Talk about iconic. Williams' themes are instantly recognizable; whether its the pulsing bass of Jaws, the soaring sounds of E.T. or the racing thunder of Raiders of the Lost Ark, you know a Williams score when you hear it. But the first Star Wars soundtrack will always hold a special place in this perpetual teenager's heart.

King Kong (1933) - Max Steiner. Steiner created many memorable movie themes in his day, including the famous score for Gone with the Wind, but his score for the original giant ape movie (the first ever written specifically for a movie) is without a doubt, his best. Ranging from the towering, operatic opening credits to the passionate jungle drums of the sacrifice scene to string-filled romance, Steiner's sweeping score is undoubtedly a modern classic. On a side note - I have at least one thing in common with the amazing Peter Jackson: King Kong is the film that made me fall in love with movies when I was a kid. James Newtown Howard wisely included some of Steiner's themes in his own score for Jackson's version, including a re-creation of the original sacrifice scene as part of Kong's New York show.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch - Stephen Trask. Okay, officially this was an Off-Broadway musical before it was a movie, but Trask and co-creator John Cameron Mitchell created a Rocky Horror for the new millennium. Trask's funny, punky rock score manages to be touching and thought-provoking at the same time, and I've never heard a song that explains Plato's creation theory better than "The Origin of Love."

The Omen (1976) - Jerry Goldsmith. The late, great Jerry Goldsmith was one of Hollywood's most prolific composers, but few of his scores are as memorable (or frightening) as the demonic chants he wrote for this Richard Donner thriller. Creepy, exotic and very Catholic, Goldsmith's score never fails to raise the hairs on the back of my neck.

Honorable Mentions: The Bride of Frankenstien (Franz Waxman); Bram Stoker's Dracula (Wojciech Kilar); Elizabeth (David Hirschfelder); Fargo (Carter Burwell); House on Haunted Hill - 1999 (Don Davis); The Others (Alejandro Amenabar); Passion: The Last Temptation of Christ (Peter Gabriel); Pirates of the Carribean; The Curse of the Black Pearl (Hans Zimmer as 'Klaus Badelt')