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Arsène Lupin: (Debbie Wiseman) Despite his
anonymity in the United States, Arsène Lupin is a well-known
character in Europe. Author Maurice Leblanc created Lupin in a series of
twenty novels nearly a century ago, and his popularity since has
extended to various television series, film adaptations, and an anime
series about Lupin's grandson in Japan. The character is a gentleman
thief who serves as France's combination of Batman, Indiana Jones, and
James Bond. A rogue trained by his father as a master of disguise and
aristocratic manners, he (unlike his father) vows not to kill anyone no
matter the circumstances. Falling in love and falling into involvement
with perpetual plans of scheming royalists to re-establish the French
Monarchy, Lupin leads a life of intrigue and extraordinary beauty in a
Gothic environment of shades of black. This 2004 adaptation produced by
the U.K., Italy, and France, was directed by Jean-Paul Salomé and
released initially in France before opening across the world in 2005.
Based on the 1924 novel "The Countess of Cagliostro,"
Arsène
Lupin boasts high production values with its 23-million Euro budget,
and one of benefits of that budget is an expansive score by British
composer Debbie Wiseman. To see Wiseman's name on advertisements for
Arsène Lupin came as a surprise to many Wiseman collectors,
but certainly not an unpleasant surprise. Known mostly in England, where
she has received considerable recognition for her work, Wiseman remains
outside the sphere of mainstream Hollywood. Her music has often fallen
closer to the realm of similarly-producing Rachel Portman, with fine
melodies often gracing films far less adventuresome and ambitious as
Arsène Lupin. For her, this project would prove important
not only because of its significant size and scope, but its capability
of turning into a franchise of films based on its critical and popular
success. In response, she would do what every fan of a rising composer
(especially one narrowing the gender gap) would hope for: produce a
masterpiece.
Wiseman must have looked at this project with much of the
same enthusiasm and heart-pounding anticipation with which Danny Elfman
looked at
Batman, for both scores are so superior to anything in
their budding careers. For Elfman,
Batman would become the
calling card for his work, and
Arsène Lupin should do the
same for Wiseman. The success of Wiseman's score is of such a grand and
magnificent scale that an attempt to convey all of its assets here would
be futile; so remarkable is nearly every aspect of this 70-minute score
on album that an intangible sense of accomplishment begins to define its
quality at the halfway point. Scores that overwhelm the listener with
the beauty of brute power and masterful orchestral distribution are
rarely heard in films of the post-2000 era, with Gabriel Yared's
rejected score for
Troy last year serving as testimony to that
fact. But for a world as Gothic as
Arsène Lupin, Wiseman
pulls out all the plugs and delivers a powerhouse of a score that
manages to convey the era of the film (in its instrumentation and
Waltz-like rhythms) while also feeding off of all the menacing darkness
that a shadowy anti-hero deserves. Immensely satisfying bass, a
rambunctious percussion section, and an oversized brass section produce
fanfares of sound in
Arsène Lupin that avoid the pitfalls of
over-density through a perpetual knack for high style. The outright
action cues will knock you out in every listen, with "Arsène and
Beaumagnan" featuring extraordinarily aggressive rhythms carried by all
the various brass players and relentlessly propulsive strings; equally
impressive is "Theft of the Crucifix," with a continued assault of brass
layers serving as a backdrop for a duel between a cimbalom and anvil.
Brass hasn't resonated with this kind of harsh and gripping clarity in a
score for years. Low range piano and bass strings provide a boiling and
relentless bass region also rare in today's scores.
The cimbalom is an intriguing element in
Arsène
Lupin, for its presence throughout the score roots it in both the
appropriate time and place, with easily distinguishable sound as it is
mixed at the forefront of each cue in which it performs. Its most
notable contributions exist in the two pronouncements of the title
theme, in both "Arsène Lupin" and "Secret Passage." Backing a
relatively simple brass fanfare for the title character is a waltz that
carries the elegance of the character while romantic string interludes
cover all sides of his personality. All the while, Wiseman's score
squeezes every last drop of glory out of each minor-key chord
progression, often relying on the assistance of a choir to elevate the
fantasy aspect while broadening the soundscape even further. In
"Countess Cagliostro," we hear tragedy of almost a "Godfather" twist of
theme yielding to brass and choral assaults as wicked as John Barry's
opening to
The Lion in Winter. Another intriguing choral cue is
"Le Grand Café," arguably the hidden highlight of the album, with
ominous rumblings of timpani, tolling bells, and an epic choral
crescendo over alternating strings and light cymbal rolls.
Interestingly, the mood and style of "Le Grand Café" for some
reason seems like a perfect match for the upcoming
The Da Vinci
Code (for those who have read the book, of course), and the same
could be said about several other cues. Another strength of Wiseman's
score her ability to involve every member of the orchestra without
allowing the density to become so thick that you end up with a John
Williams prequel
Star Wars or Howard Shore
The Lord of the
Rings score. An organ opens "The Blue Lupin" and is overtaken by one
of the many ripping rhythms on solo drums; "Arsène Escapes" gives
the snare a significant solo workout. In "The Needle of Etretat,"
Wiseman opens with a solo piano motif that would make any modern
thriller film jealous.
Softer moments of
Arsène Lupin do exist,
but their length in between swelling string melancholy or angry
explosions of brass is often short. Not even comedy is lost in this
work, with a cimbalom and lightly prancing violins evolving into almost
parodies of motifs blown with vicious force by brass in the rest of the
score. In the end, it's the ferocious performance by the Royal
Philharmonic Orchestra and the Crouch End Festival Chorus that really
bring
Arsène Lupin to life. Wiseman has conducted the group
in concert, and the knowledge how to orchestrate and conduct the group
herself pays off with a score vibrant with personality at every turn.
It's difficult to find detractions in the score, though the opening song
on the album, with its electric guitar and other obvious period-busting
elements, is perhaps unnecessary despite its adaptation of one of
Wiseman's themes. The strictly period pieces, including the classically
inclined "Casino" and "The Ballroom" don't convey much of the same sense
of potentially impending doom around the corner that most of the score
embodies. Also of slight disappointment is the lack of more
interpretations of the title theme in the ambitious action cues
throughout the score; the title theme is certainly catchy, and its
absence in most of the large-scale action cues is curious. That said,
Arsène Lupin is a delight to behold in nearly every cue.
Very rarely do orchestral action and thriller scores produce such mayhem
while sounding genuine and novel these days, though Dario Marianelli
offered roughly the same kind of refreshing take on the genre in
The
Brothers Grimm during the same year.
At a time when American composers, and the
establishment that creates many of them, churns out the schlock that
passes for action film music, the Europeans remind us that
sophistication can indeed coexist with simple, harmonious, kick-ass
orchestral force. Patrick Doyle, Alexandre Desplat, Ennio Morricone,
Marianelli, and Wiseman have given film music listeners plenty to chew
on in the last year, and let's hope that their American counterparts
take notice. As mentioned before, parts of this score seem as though
they could be temped into the upcoming
The Da Vinci Code with
great effect, and Hans Zimmer in particular should be among the first of
those counterparts to give it a listen. For American collectors,
obtaining
Arsène Lupin on album --or even viewing the film--
will prove elusive. The film debuted in widespread release first in
France in 2004, and then spread across the world in 2005. Notably absent
from its release, however, was the United States, never showing in
America in even a festival. The only album that exists is a commercial
release from the French branch of EMI, with packaging in French except
for cue titles and notes about the score, both provided by the
English-speaking Wiseman. Unavailable from even online soundtrack
specialty outlets, the score can be bought anywhere from either
Amazon.com UK or France. Even at a cost of about $25 with shipping from
these overseas outlets,
Arsène Lupin is well worth the
effort, though with the immense critical success that the score has
received thus far, it's hard to imagine that some American release won't
eventually occur. Without a doubt,
Arsène Lupin should
assist in fans' discovery of Wiseman's talents, and while the score may
not be representative of her larger body of work, it's easy to hope that
if a franchise develops out of the Leblanc character, Wiseman's powerful
and elegant ideas for that character will continue. This score receives
an unequivocal recommendation.
***** Amazon.com Price Hunt: CD or Download
The insert includes notes from Wiseman (in English) and Salomé (in French)
about the score and film.