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Goldeneye: (Eric Serra) By 1995, the James Bond franchise
was finally beginning to get some things right. Shaking the legal difficulties
that kept the series from the big screen in the early 1990's, the belated debut
of Pierce Brosnan as 007 in
Goldeneye marked the end of the longest lapse
ever in the production of the series. Along with a thigh crushing actress, an
intensely popular movie poster, and a noteworthy video game spin-off, the film
was a fiscal success. It paved the way for three more Bond films to star Brosnan,
ensuring the continuation of the original concept to a time that Ian Fleming
couldn't have even dreamt about. The music for
Goldeneye, however, turned
out to be a tricky proposition. Franchise veteran John Barry had been quoted by
numerous sources that he believed the modern 80's and 90's Bond films were
nothing more than formula imitations of the 60's Bond films (and to and extent,
he could be right). He reportedly declined participation in
Goldeneye,
leaving
The Living Daylights as his outstanding conclusion to his efforts.
The producers at M-G-M decided, and rightly so, that they wanted to continue
Barry's late Bond score push into the modern rock and electronica sound, keeping
only a faint resemblance to the 60's jazz for the sake of continuity. The job of
continuing the modernization of the Bond scores fell on the unlikely shoulders of
French synthesist Eric Serra, who was (and still is) best known for his
collaborations with French director Luc Besson on
Le Femme Nikita,
The
Professional,
The Fifth Element, and
The Big Blue. The move by
M-G-M was naturally greeted with resentment at first, but once fans got it into
their heads that Barry was finished with the series anyways, they turned curious
about how Serra would tackle the project. After all, Michael Kamen's single Bond
score (for Timothy Dalton's departure in
License to Kill), despite its
strengths in some parts, never stirred up much interest. While Serra's fan base
is extremely loyal, their numbers in America at the time were miniscule when
compared to the John Barry fanatics, though part of that was due to the age
discrepancy between the two men.
When
Goldeneye opened in the theatres, Serra's score
thrilled his fans, and even sold well to a younger listening audience in record
stores. Tina Turner, whose voice is sultry enough to carry the vocal sound of the
franchise well, performed the title song that would circulate with moderate
success around the radio stations of America. To the mass of long-time Bond fans,
however, Serra's score was not only a failure in the film, but a disgrace to the
Bond tradition as a whole. Veteran viewers pounded Serra instantaneously, with
some going so far as to claim his score ruined the film. Demands for the
whereabouts of John Barry poured in to film music publications. The move towards
the musical modernization of the series had indeed been accomplished, but Serra
failed completely in his attempt to tie
Goldeneye to the franchise's past.
Many industry insiders, including those at M-G-M (a studio renown for its poor
choice of composer assignments), scratched their heads and were willing to give
Serra the benefit of the doubt. When David Arnold took over the series with
Tomorrow Never Dies, the young Brit proved that Serra's score was indeed
not only inadequate, but a disgrace to the series. While Arnold himself has
claimed that he didn't find the music for
Goldeneye to be offensive at
all, the score still became the subject of mockery in parts of Hollywood. Fans of
Serra's music will argue that public perception and expectations shouldn't be the
measure of the score for
Goldeneye. To an extent, some creative liberty
must be allowed, yes. But expectations in a film franchise of this multitude and
cross-generational popularity simply
must be respected, and Serra
unequivocally failed to show that. The score is amateurish in addition to being
disrespectful. Serra's techno rhythms are simplistic and uninteresting, forcing
more of the excitement to be generated solely by the action on the screen (which
is something that the film marginally succeeded in accomplishing). The composer's
choice of synthesized samplings came under extreme and warranted criticism. The
low-toned belching sound effect used to musically represent the ugly aliens in
The Fifth Element is employed here as a token representation of the
Russians. At first, it was thought to be a joke, but similarly ridiculous sounds
unfortunately permeate
Goldeneye.
The use of the Bond theme is disgracefully minimal, with only
two cues in the film making a futile attempt at its incorporation. The opening
climbing scene and infamous tank chase through St. Petersburg required full
statements of Monty Norman's theme, if even for a few short bursts, but Serra
trashes the theme with a corny and faint electronic blast of the first few notes
of its progression. The glorious tank scene, especially, was a badly missed
opportunity for Serra, whose (eventually unused) cue for the scene locked his
score forever in the category of disastrous misadventures. Other action scenes
also contain underscore suitable for the
Goldeneye video game and not the
feature film. Serra makes a futile attempt to incorporate his usual London
Session Studio Orchestra into the score to perform the tender moments for Bond.
In the film, they make four notable appearances, but are hindered by their usual
lack of inspiration and power, along with a tepid love theme attempted by Serra.
The love themes in the Bond films are traditionally swoop in an almost overly
dramatic movement, and are part of the Bond formula no matter how you cut it.
From Russia With Love established the power of the Bond love theme, and
Barry continued it to his final score. Serra also fails to quote the theme of the
Goldeneye theme song by Turner in his score, which is another unacceptable
blunder. When people think of the
Goldeneye score in years later, it is
the four-note bass plucking from the beginning of the song that is ironically
best remembered. Even David Arnold, who has proven himself a master at
interpreting themes for a sequel, paid tribute to this four note motif from the
Goldeneye song in the first half of
Tomorrow Never Dies. The fact
that Arnold found nothing worth referencing in Serra's score for
Goldeneye
should not be neglected. After Arnold led the Bond franchise into the 21st
Century with a classy and elegant combination of big jazz, Moby-inspired
electronics, exotic instrumentation, and sweeping orchestral love themes, Serra's
Bond score seems even more like a fish out of water. Some will continue to argue
to the very end that Serra simply produced the score he was asked to write. But
too many of the unwritten rules of Bond franchise scores were violated by his
effort (or lack thereof), so history will be forever unkind to Eric Serra for his
vastly inappropriate contribution. The contents of the 1995 Virgin and 2003
Capitol/EMI albums are the same (though the latter re-mixed the percussion as
part of its remastering), and if you value
any of the traditions of James
Bond music from its prime, avoid the frustration of either album at all costs.
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