Filmtracks Recommends:
Buy it... only if you are an enthusiast of tense and suspenseful scores that are somewhat predictable in their formation but nevertheless enjoyable. Avoid it... if only about ten minutes of engaging highlights bracketing twenty minutes of mundane ambience do not justify your time and effort. Filmtracks Editorial Review:
Don't Say a Word: (Mark Isham) Although promising in its basic premise, Gary Fleder's Don't Say a Word attempts to wrap too many sub-plots around the compelling coercion of a renown psychiatrist into extracting a six-digit code from the paranoid mind of one of his patients. In yet another role as the contemporary victim, Michael Douglas is the man pushed to the limit of his emotional and physical endurance (a Hollywood formula still in use at the time despite the actor's advancing age). The film was very similar to the other kinds of nightmarish situations that Douglas seemed enjoy being a part of, and although Don't Say a Word fared relatively well, it had the misfortune of debuting at a time when audiences were looking for happier topics in the aftermath of the terrorist attacks on America one month prior. Along for the ride in a familiar setting as well was composer Mark Isham, who was a veteran of writing music for catatonic, urban films of a thrillingly grim nature (with the likes of Blade and The Net already on his resume). Undoubtedly, Don't Say a Word was exactly the kind of film that lent itself well to the style of contemporary suspense that Isham was comfortable producing at the time. The music that he wrote for the film, as it falls in the very generic genre of thrillers, could easily be inserted into similar Douglas vehicles like The Game or Fatal Attraction and probably serve just as well. Isham's reputation in some circles entailed that he was able to produce adequately functional music for the usually substandard films he worked for, with an occasionally superior score in the ranks. But that body of work had yet to translate into a popularization of his music outside of context, and nothing heard in Don't Say a Word was destined to change that reputation. The music has brief glimpses of originality and enjoyable character, but it is ultimately the kind of suspense work that supplements a film far better than it can solely occupy the airspace in a room. The foundation of the score is constructed on a basic level with a single piano, providing the delicate family aspect of the film (as well as the innocent child-like side of the deranged young woman with whom Douglas' character is forced to interact) with an often solemn voice. In the conclusive "A Family," the piano is finally allowed a hearty major-key expression of harmony and a much-needed sense of relief. Until that point, the score is consistently grim. The most favorable aspect of the soundscape for Don't Say a Word is actually the employment of synthetic elements, many of which programmed by veteran electronics artist Jeff Beal. They begin their role immediately on album with "Heist," a sharp and percussively rapid piece featuring the score's only use of contemporary rock beats and various looped effects. While fans of traditional orchestral music may dislike this kind of music in general, its pacing and programming make it a more interesting experience than the rest of the score. The electronics persist in a number of following tracks, but not with the same kind of rhythm or intensity that helps "Heist" stand apart. There is, as to be expected, a certain amount of electronic droning that occupies a few minutes of predictable and non-descript underscore, but not in the kind of obnoxious or incredibly dull fashion that caused Isham's 2004 score for Twisted to stink up the room. The highlight of Don't Say a Word is Isham's subtle, but powerful inclusion of a light choir. It adds an eerie and almost religious dimension to the score, something that had been lacking in the high profile Douglas thrillers of years past. While the album presentation may develop slowly once the first track is finished, it concludes with a maturation of the choral element. The use of the choir, which eventually compliments the score's numerous piano solos and soft orchestral underbelly, culminates in a final track which is as harmonically enjoyable as any Isham has written to date. His scores have always had a bad habit of wasting away in their final moments, though the conclusion of the Don't Say a Word album offers a positive end to an otherwise gloomy listening experience. The album was as neglected upon its release as the film had been, finishing behind all of Varèse Sarabande's other products during that month. Overall, the middle parts of the album are a completely uninteresting addendum to half a dozen of the composer's other works. But the opening and closing tracks, with their vastly different sounds, are keepers on this short product. The entire thirty minute experience passes very quickly, without so much as a third or fourth cue of significant volume. It isn't as exciting as many had hoped, but it does show a glimpse of Isham's known capacity for producing a lovely theme. The brevity and general lack of inspiring material have probably caused this album to be forgotten, but there is certainly nothing repulsive about an otherwise pleasant listen for a lazy afternoon. *** Track Listings:
Total Time: 30:49
All artwork and sound clips from Don't Say a Word are Copyright © 2001, Varèse Sarabande. The reviews and notes contained on the filmtracks.com site may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without the prior written authority of Filmtracks Publications. Audio clips can be heard using RealPlayer but cannot be redistributed without the label's expressed written consent. Page created 10/27/01, updated 2/9/09. Review Version 4.1 - PHP (Filmtracks Publications). Copyright © 2001-2013, Christian Clemmensen. All rights reserved. |
