Filmtracks Recommends:
Buy it... if blatantly morbid melodrama of the highest order, complete with excessively pounding percussive rhythms, brooding bass strings, and bloated choral chanting, is the quickest path to the darker corners of your heart. Avoid it... if the grandest gothic tone and style of the mythical vampire genre doesn't impress you unless all of its components are assembled in a tightly cohesive whole. Filmtracks Editorial Review:
Bram Stoker's Dracula: (Wojciech Kilar) If the cinematography, art direction, and costumes are good enough, then the rest of the production (as well as the title character) can be damned. That's what Francis Ford Coppola faced when putting his lavish spin on the famed vampire from Transylvania in his 1992 epic, Bram Stoker's Dracula. A cast with a few veterans who could chew on the material with appropriate melodramatic zeal and a handful of young heartthrobs looking pretty in their turn of the century garb was largely overshadowed by the immensely gothic production values. It was a film to be seen and heard rather than contemplated for its extension of the Dracula myth (some of which, especially in the real estate investment aspect of things, didn't make much sense), and it was boosted by a monumental advertisement campaign and a significant amount of hoopla in the press. Despite its mesmerizing qualities, Coppola's film ironically lacked a convincing soul, playing out like an overacted stage production on the best cinematic steroids of the day. Another aspect of the production experiencing no limits in the melodrama category was the appropriately massive score by Polish composer Wojciech Kilar, whose career had not yet made a significant splash in America. His score was somewhat surprisingly absent from the nominations of any major awarding group; the film's design elements received significant praise from both the BAFTA and Academy Award voting bodies, winning three Oscars. Perhaps it was a lack of name recognition that restricted Kilar's chances at the time (though he never fared particularly well with international awards until 2002's The Pianist), because his music for Bram Stoker's Dracula is a particularly memorable aspect of the production. All of the over the top values assigned to the other appeals of the film are evident in this score, from the swells of morbidly romantic orchestral melody to the pounding choral passages of urgent and mighty terror. To be expected from Kilar is, beyond the basic ingredients of a large, gothic score, a lushly brooding sense of Eastern European sensibility, a distinctive touch so remarkably appropriate for Bram Stoker's Dracula that this sound alone is likely a solid reason why Kilar received the high profile assignment. In the few major, internationally distributed feature film scores of his career, this one remains perhaps Kilar's most famous, even if it is not his best. Ultimately, most of what you hear in Bram Stoker's Dracula would be explored by the composer with more sincerity in forthcoming projects. The tone and style of Kilar's music is an interesting cross between his later scores for The Ninth Gate and The Portrait of a Lady (both impressive in their own ways), as well as a foreshadowing of the epic, resoundingly deep ensemble rhythms that Howard Shore would employ liberally in his music for The Lord of the Rings (additionally, all you would need to do is emphasize the low woodwinds a bit more in a few of the Kilar cues here and this material could have eerily matched parts of Shore's classic works in orchestration and tone). There exist three major themes and one minor one in Bram Stoker's Dracula, all of which conveniently reprised in the concert suite format Kilar compiled for the end credits. The primary identity for the film represents Dracula and his vicious brides, introduced early and with understandably great sorrow in "Dracula - The Beginning" and stirring up more menacing trouble in "The Brides." This deep string theme is that which is most saturated with Eastern European mannerisms, and while it is sufficient in tone, its lack of frequency or development later in the score (until it bookends "End Credits") weakens it considerably. The only exception comes when Kilar uses the theme as both an interlude and counterpoint within his love theme, heard first in "Love Remembered" but really taking off in "Mina/Dracula" and "Love Eternal." When performed by only woodwinds, this doomed melody has a John Barry quality of overwrought romanticism, though its bass string performances, as in the latter cue, give it a greater amount of gravity. The propulsive theme for Anthony Hopkins' Van Helsing (and associates) is impressive but perhaps this score's greatest misstep. Expressed with unyielding bombast in "Vampire Hunters," "The Hunt Builds," and "The Hunters Prelude," it's not hard to mistaken this theme as the primary one for the film, especially given its prominent placement in the final mix. A forceful percussive rhythm pounds underneath a series of eight note phrases that aren't really heroic or powerful enough to set the right tone for Van Helsing's activities. In these cues, Kilar gains momentum in the deepest piano and brass ranges in rolling rhythmic structures that might remind of Carl Orff, and in "Dracula - The Beginning" and "The Storm," he builds snare-tapped rhythms that employ fiendishly evil choral chanting and random vocalized outbursts. The use of voices in a variety ways, from whispering to glorious chants, is a precursor to the concluding moments of The Ninth Gate. The use of outright shouting and random vocal effects in "The Ring of Fire," punctuating an attack on a horse by the brides, is interesting but totally unlistenable. Occasional soprano female vocals are lovely in a creepy sense and all too short, though the use of solo voice to foreshadow the love theme in "Mina's Photo" is a highlight. A couple of rather unique portions of the score contribute to its lack of strong continuity, led by a somewhat dreamy light percussion theme for Lucy, an idea that nearly ruins the "End Credits" after its lengthy exploration in "Lucy's Party." The other interesting abnormality in the score comes at the end; in the closing seconds of "Love Eternal" and the entirety of the short "Ascension," an ethereal quality dominates in high choral tones and rare, pure harmony. When you put these cues together with the three major themes, there is friction between the interactions and a general disconnect in the flow of the score. The "End Credits" arrangement perfectly encapsulates this point, each sequence within its seven minutes having at least some merit but all together failing to produce a coherent whole. A heavy emphasis on the bass region (reinforced by the mix) also contributes to a restricted soundscape. The unrelated Annie Lennox song at the end of the album is stunningly misplaced. There is much to impress in Kilar's Bram Stoker's Dracula, but it's a score that will leave you wanting something more every time you listen to it on album. *** Track Listings:
Total Time: 55:01
All artwork and sound clips from Bram Stoker's Dracula are Copyright © 1992, Columbia/Sony Music. 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 11/13/09, updated 11/13/09. Review Version 4.1 - PHP (Filmtracks Publications). Copyright © 2009-2013, Christian Clemmensen. All rights reserved. |
