Filmtracks Recommends:
Buy it... only for the tardy, but welcome spirit of John Powell's last five minutes of material, finally injecting true spirit into an otherwise lifeless work. Avoid it... if you're looking for Jennifer Lopez performances or, per chance, a score of interesting or engaging character. Filmtracks Editorial Review:
Gigli: (John Powell) It's hard to imagine which reason is the most substantial cause of this film's legendary status: its own hideousness or the fact that it displayed two pop-culture stars who were heating up the sheets together. In Hollywood, you usually get a film loved by critics and hated by audiences, vice versa, or, if a studio hits the jackpot, the admiration of both groups. It's not often that a project flunks both public opinion and critical evaluation to such a fantastic level as Gigli (pronounced Zs-eally as part of a pun in the film), but the film became so well-known for its poor quality that it likely made some "top-100 worst films of all time" lists right off the bat. The incomprehensible plot follows a loveable henchman/hitman with feelings (sense a problem right there?) who is tasked with kidnapping a mentally retarded kid so that his boss can extort money from a federal prosecutor. The catch is that his boss also has a curvaceous lesbian (...lesbian?) watch him to make sure that all goes well, and, well, you know who plays whom. With a film choked by dialogue so dreadful, many wondered exactly what happened when director Martin Brest saw this script and thought it would be a good idea to present it to a willing public. On the soundtrack front, Brest had worked well with Thomas Newman in his previous two major efforts (Meet Joe Black and Scent of a Woman), and Newman can only be thankful that he didn't take the Gigli assignment. Instead, John Powell will forever see his name attached to the project, which likely doesn't bother him to any great extent given the questionable quality of some of the assignments he had taken in the previous three or so years. He was becoming a less expensive alternative to John Debney for studios, and he typically provided equally serviceable, if not occasionally interesting music for films of this trashy variety. The content of Gigli would not inspire him to greatness, however, and perhaps his own screening of the film caused him to slosh through the project without much inspiration for fresh new ideas. If you enjoyed Powell's work for films like Two Weeks Notice, then Gigli is a poorer extension of that sound. Powell's music for Gigli is somewhat hip, laced with arguably inappropriate Western tones, romantic in its basic harmonious simplicity, and lacking in an abundance of novel ideas. It is mundane score with little character until its final few cues. Two sides of the score alternate depending on how painfully conversational the situation is on screen (a red flag right there, given that the music had to compete with that awful dialogue). First, you have the urban, supposedly cool, light rock that you get from a guitar, electric organ, and percussion. If you can tolerate electric organs (which is a big "if," because when isolated like it is here, it could easily make you pull your hair out), then these cues are listenable in a generic, bland sort of contemporary fashion. The same applies to the light orchestral cues with piano and pleasant acoustic guitar. A string section is accompanied by the band and a few flutes to produce harmonious meanderings of pleasant chords. For such a monumentally horrible film, one might expect a score just as offensive, but if Powell's score is to be criticized negatively, then it would suffer that comment because it simply doesn't try to flourish beyond its own stale flavor. That is, until the final cues presented on the album, and this is where Powell collectors can claim a saving grace and pull his score from the same depths of despair experienced by the film. Finally sincerely developing its thematic ideas in "Pro Perogative," Powell shifts gears completely in "Nice Weather," which plays upon a Western rhythm to the full extent of the strings, piano, and guitar, and whipping up surprising attitude with several flutes. It almost stinks of Randy Edelman fuzziness, but after half an hour of Powell's largely boring underscore, it's a welcome change. Likewise, the final cue explodes into a climax complete with the full ensemble engaged with gospel singing. It's completely out of blue, but the "Rochelle" cue also injects some life into the rubbery album, even if only briefly. Comically, the Varèse Sarabande label felt obliged (perhaps legally necessitated by their contract to purchase the score) to tell buyers that the album does not include a Jennifer Lopez single ("Baby, I Love U"), costing them several thousand possible purchases by J-Lo fans who would in turn fill used-CD bins with the product. Somehow, that would have been a fitting end to this sorry chapter. ** Track Listings:
Total Time: 37:33
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