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| Poledouris |
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Conan the Barbarian: (Basil Poledouris) "And on to
this
Conan..." When director John Milius and his college buddy
Basil Poledouris collaborated to produce their first fantasy adventure
film, little did they know that they would be catapulting their own
careers, as well as that of the little known Arnold Schwarzenegger, into
the bright lights of both cult and mainstream attention. Hollywood was
hitting the peak of its "sword and sorcery" phase (which some instead
termed the "swords and steroids" phase) when
Conan the Barbarian
hit the theatres in 1982, and producers and directors struggled to
create authentic representations of a fantasy mould of Earth from the
Middle Ages on limited budgets and do so during a time when audiences
were being awed by the special effects of stories of galactic
proportions. The story of a boy's ascension from slave to king during
the Hyborean age was the creation of pulp writer Robert E. Howard, and
the concept was greeted on screen with enough enthusiasm to warrant a
sequel (albeit frightfully inferior) a few years later. Film scores were
also undergoing a renaissance in the early 1980's, pointed by John
Williams' orchestral adventure works back towards large, symphonic
representations of the fantasy genre. The producer of
Conan the
Barbarian, Dino De Laurentiis, was an advocate of experimenting with
pop scores in the epic fantasy genre, and he recommended such an
approach for this film. Milius and Poledouris were on a different page,
though; the friends were so loyal to each other that the composer would
turn down the assignment of Kevin Costner's
Dances With Wolves to
score the director's
Flight of the Intruder. The two men
recognized that a rock/pop score would not function for
Conan the
Barbarian because of the production would rely on the music and
cinematography to take the place of dialogue in painting the correct
canvas for the film's depiction of the Hyborean age. De Laurentiis, of
course, would take his pop score ideas to
Dune instead, with a
surprisingly effective result. Nothing but Poledouris' heavy symphonic
and choral approach would function for
Conan the Barbarian,
however, and the composer would have to dig deep into Middle Age musical
construction (abandoning modern, lyrical strategies) in order to achieve
a convincing pre-historic score.
The result of Poledouris' efforts is a complex score that
sounds surprisingly primitive and brutal, and the composer reinforced
this approach by utilizing the sheer, awesome power of a huge orchestral
and choral ensemble. He employed players from two separate orchestras
and combined them with a chorus for a recording of monumental
proportions in Rome. Unlike other modern composers, Poledouris
successfully took Milius' suggestion of adapting the sounds of Carl
Orff's "Carmina Burana" and the Gregorian chanting of "Dies Irae" and
provided similar emotional constructs without allowing the score to
sound like a cheap and unaccomplished imitation. Thrown into the mix, of
course, is Poledouris' own knowledge of ancient folk music, a style that
would inform his subsequent score for
Flesh + Blood to an even
greater degree. He accomplishes a consistent Middle Age atmosphere by
utilizing powerful arrays of brass and percussion throughout several
different memorable motifs that carry the film along as though it were a
concert piece with several distinct parts. First, the film begins with
the theme that many associate with Conan incorrectly; rather, "Anvil of
Crom" is meant as a representation of the period in time and its
primitive human behavior. It follows the prologue in the film with a
powerful performance by timpani drums and 24 French horns. In the string
interlude of that title theme, Conan's true theme is introduced. This
more heroic idea is also developed during the "Riddle of Steel" cue and
would accompany Conan on his journey of revenge throughout the film. The
third theme utilized by Poledouris is the Orff-inspired "Riders of Doom"
composition to represent the evil Thulsa Doom (James Earl Jones) during
his attacks through the land to collect slaves and followers. This
stunning piece, while bothering some listeners with its Orff-like
qualities and often performed poorly in concerts by undersized
performing groups, is a continuation of unabashed percussion and brass,
with a Latin chorus providing an intriguingly melodic sense of horror. A
monumental solo sequence for the timpani in this cue (at 4:25) is
extremely engaging. This theme returns with equal force during the
climactic battle between Conan and Doom's warriors near the end of the
film, and a disappointingly shallow and fragmented version of the idea
would carry over to
Conan the Destroyer.
For Thulsa Doom's more hauntingly pleasant side,
Poledouris worked with a simple theme inspired by the musical tinkering
of his young daughter, Zoe, for "The Orgy," a basic, but effectively
rolling representation of the barbaric sexual environment of the
villain. The love theme for Conan, sometimes included as a passage
within Conan's own similarly rendered theme, is performed with an
appealing, lush heart by woodwinds, instruments that often act as the
soul of the characters in the film. Among the smaller motifs are the
relentlessly grinding rhythms of "Wheel of Pain" and the light-hearted,
percussively festive "Civilization" theme that accompanies Conan's
Mongol friend and flourishes in grandeur as Conan is rescued from "The
Tree of Woe." To finish a commentary about
Conan the Barbarian by
suggesting that these are the only superior ideas in the work would be
an insult to Poledouris, because nearly every cue contains an equally
effective motif of some kind, culminating in the harmonically lovely and
chorally lamenting "Orphans of Doom" at the conclusion of the film.
While the score is never completely integrated so that all of the themes
come together in a suite format, Poledouris does manage to restate most
of his ideas consistently throughout the film, providing the perfect
musical canvas for the rather predictable characters. The score is rich
in exotic percussion, heart-pounding rhythms, and mesmerizing
instrumentation, proving what level of magic can result when a composer
and director work towards a common goal with a massive ensemble of
performers and a broad, expansive scope in mind from the outset. Because
most of the constructs in the score maintain accessibility through their
common, harmonic foundation,
Conan the Barbarian translates very
well to album, where the music has had another storied history. A very
early CD was issued not long after the identical LPs hit stores in 1982.
Most of the early Milan/MCA Records pressings were sold outside the
United States, with the only CD representation for many years being a
Milan album originating from France. This album contains the spoken
prologue from the film by the Mongol wizard (Mako), the classic text of
which you can view at the bottom of this review page. This Milan album,
featuring about 48 minutes of score, has been reprinted several times
(in 1992, 1999, and 2003), and all feature identical contents.
In 1992, however, Varèse Sarabande released the
scores for both
Conan the Barbarian and its sequel,
Conan the
Destroyer, on their own CDs, with the album for the first score
adding 20 minutes of previously unreleased material to the contents of
the previous CDs and LP. Among the extra cues are the fantastic "Tree of
Woe" and "Recovery" back to back, both of which featuring strong
extensions of the civilization and love themes that are not to be
missed. Also added are lengthy cues from the latter half of the film,
including the orgy scene and Doom's classic head-rolling execution by
Conan. Unfortunately, these Varèse albums for the franchise have
fallen completely out of print and are only available used for an often
hefty price. Both products exhibit the archival sound quality to be
expected for the era, reflecting the same consequent harshness in brass
that is typically heard in James Horner's early recordings. This is
primary why so much discussion has existed through the years about
reconstructing the score for a performance in vibrant digital sound (not
to mention the dissatisfaction that results when ensembles fail to
capture the score's brutal tone in re-recordings of individual cues).
The Varèse release of
Conan the Barbarian, although it is
unfortunately missing the prologue, features slightly more dynamic sound
quality and an excellent 20 minutes of extra score, and this product
should be sought at all costs. The shorter Milan album may suffice for a
few, but the out-of-print Varèse album is the definite winner for
any veteran collector of film music. It is a classic album for a classic
score, presenting the early highlight of a career sadly cut short just
two decades later. When Poledouris was nearing the end of his battle
with cancer in 2006, he set his focus on traveling from America to a
film music conference in Ubeda, Spain, in July of that year. Despite his
scars from brain tumors and the effects of chemotherapy, he managed to
miraculously make the trip so that he could conduct a significant
portion of reconstructed music from
Conan the Barbarian for
adoring fans. Upon returning to the United States after that successful
and widely publicized concert, the composer would cease his chemo and
pass away within months. This score stands, therefore, as not only a
highlight of Poledouris' career in a technical sense, but also as a
tribute to his own spirit of adventure.
Score as Written for the Film: *****
Score as Heard on the Milan/Warner Albums: ****
Score as Heard on the Varèse Sarabande album: *****
Overall: *****
| Bias Check: | For Basil Poledouris reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating
is 3.48 (in 30 reviews)
and the average viewer rating is 3.42
(in 27,544 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
|
