Filmtracks Recommends:
Buy it... if you are consistently pleased with James Horner's familiar, wholesome character scores, especially those that range from intimate piano solos to full ensemble grandeur. Avoid it... if you expect something other than a straight extension of the thematic material from Avatar, a striking and disappointing reaffirmation of Horner's bizarre obsession with recycling his ideas from prior scores. Filmtracks Editorial Review:
The Karate Kid: (James Horner) The studios will never let a few fatal fallacies of logic stand in the way of immense profits, regardless of how offensive or stupid the concept or a rebooted concept may be. The 1984 smash hit The Karate Kid was responsible for a rush of popularity for karate across the world, though despite the 2010 remake's use of the name to generate familiar interest, Will Smith's blatant production vehicle for his son changes the location of the protagonist's troubles from Los Angeles to China and replaces karate with kung fu. Thus, asserting in the title that young Jaden Smith is the "karate kid" is not only misleading, but insulting to karate. Nevertheless, Sony's resurrection of The Karate Kid trounced 20th Century Fox's like-minded 80's remake of The A-Team at the box office and blasted past the $100 million mark so quickly that a sequel was immediately put into the planning stages. Critical reactions to The Karate Kid were punctuated not only by fallacy of the title, but also the young ages of the children in the film. Despite these questions of authenticity, however, the basic premise of the 1984 classic remains intact, and the boy must learn from Jackie Chan the physical and mental ability to defeat the clan of bullying kids in his new city. The music for 2010's The Karate Kid hasn't been particularly well coordinated, with most of the attention going to the Justin Bieber hip hop single "Never Say Never" that has been advertised as the film's official song and debuted in the top 40 on the American Billboard charts. Originally slated to write the score was Atli Orvarsson, one of the many Hans Zimmer associates to emerge from the Remote Control clone factory, though he was reportedly dismissed without having recorded any material for the film. His replacement was none other than veteran James Horner, fresh off of his monumental success for Avatar. Horner's involvement came as quite a surprise to the film score community given that the composer typically does not take this kind of mainstream assignment any longer. Some argued that Bill Conti should be hired to continue his legacy in the franchise (his music for the original four films spanned ten years and multiple casts and crews), though the dreams of lingering Conti enthusiasts were not to become a reality. Considering the Bieber song as the new identity for The Karate Kid, perhaps Conti's absence is a good thing, though Horner apparently ignored or had no association with the song, either. There is evidence in the final score for The Karate Kid that Horner was probably rushed a bit (mainly the lack of fresh ideas for the score's themes and some cues that are simply generic filler material), but his score is still effective. The instrumental balance is perfect, blending a variety of world instruments with his usual lush orchestral tones and synthetic elements. The electronic presence is maybe a nod to the request of the production for an updated sound, and everything in Horner's palette here is more refined and better developed that in Conti's popular but somewhat aged score. Horner restrains the synthetic elements to maintain a timeless quality that his orchestral character scores typically yield, and this is a tremendous asset to this music. The basic ideas behind Conti's original score are matched by Horner, a reflective and tender orchestral presence for the boy shattered by electronic elements for his beatings and the latter half of the film driven by propulsive rhythms for the training and a victorious explosion of major-key symphonic force for the boy's inevitable perseverance in the tournament. Whereas Conti was obsessed with the pan flute, however, Horner adds flavor from a number of ingredients, from his usual shakuhachi flute to the more intriguing cimbalom (the latter making a striking contribution out of the blue in "Mei Ying's Kiss"). The piano is once again the heart of the score's quiet, conversational cues, reminding of his early 1990's light dramas, and Horner's innocuous, synthetic choral tones are a familiar method of addressing the mysticism of the location. The use of solo voice, reminiscent of the boy's performance that was featured on the album version of Avatar's "Becoming One of 'The People'," makes a few short but powerful contributions to The Karate Kid at the end of "Hard Training" and middle of "Final Contest." Disappointing to some listeners will be Horner's occasional slide into the Hans Zimmer/Remote Control reliance on muscular, low string ostinatos and invasive percussive loops, the latter sometimes irritatingly not exactly matched in the mix with the orchestral recording (a strangely amateurish mistake for a production crew of this experience). The style of some of Horner's synthetically-aided material was already explored in less grating manners in Avatar, and it should be forgiven to an extent in The Karate Kid because of its appropriate tone for the aggressive nature of the villains of the tale (as well as the momentum necessary during training sequences, an aspect of Conti's score that has always been appreciated). Horner makes what sounds like an intentional nod to Conti's classically-inclined training material in the final minute of "Journey to the Spiritual Mountain," which would explain that sequence's totally unique style compared to the rest of Horner's work. The diverse range of Horner's instrumental applications and shifty, seemingly undecided use of synthetic elements are among the score's weaknesses, causing the training sequences to lack the continuity of style that Conti's omnipresent pan flute theme for the master conveyed. This tentative approach to the narrative also causes several anonymous, atmospheric cues ("Ancient Chinese Medicine" and "All Work and No Play") that feature no worthwhile development. That said, Horner's handling of both the tender character sequences and fully orchestral outbursts are easily superior to anything Conti provided, often developing in very long cues that offer Horner's thematic ideas in extended, satisfying presentations. Not surprisingly, the potentially debilitating drawback to Horner's take on The Karate Kid is his obvious obsession with the thematic structures of his previous scores, a habit that reaches the realm of the bizarre with this score. There are three recurring themes in The Karate Kid, the primary one containing an interlude that sometimes wanders off on its own. The least utilized of these ideas reflects the longing of the boy for his life in Detroit, and it's a variation on Horner's usual, absolutely gorgeous themes for children's longing. Heard in the last minute of "Leaving Detroit," in a brief fragments near the ends of "Mei Ying's Kiss" and "Dre's Gift and Apology," and with particular beauty at 2:40 into "The Forbidden City," this theme (which itself meanders off into The Spitfire Grill territory on strings) could have been a spectacular main identity for the entire film. It follows the other secondary theme for the film in the transitional sequence of "The Forbidden City," an impressive, flowing string melody that is alluded to in its general sensibilities of the Orient thereafter. The primary theme for The Karate Kid is where the major obstacle exists, however. Foreshadowed first on trumpet at 1:25 in "Leaving Detroit," this theme undergoes a transformation from the lovely piano renditions of "Mei Ying's Kiss" to the repetitive full ensemble force of the latter half of "From Master to Student to Master," culminating in the necessary bloated renditions in "Final Contest" that rival Horner's broadest timpani-pounding, cymbal crashing expressions of grandeur. The problem with this theme is painfully obvious, however; it's only a slightly altered form of Horner's love theme from Avatar. It's not the four-note progression that most remember, but rather the long and fluid form of the theme as heard in the aforementioned "Becoming One of 'The People'." There's simply no way to excuse self-referencing of this magnitude. Sure, it's a beautiful theme, but you'll have a hard time believing that this story comes from China and not Pandora. Even worse, the interlude section of the theme takes the Na'vi theme and repackages it as well, not only therefore referencing Avatar but The Four Feathers by default as well. With all the talent that Horner has clearly exhibited through the years, this reliance on recycling old ideas must be a conscious choice rather than an inability to conjure fresh ideas. After all, this is the composer that gave life to phenomenal, long-lined themes for Willow, The Rocketeer, and the likes. Perhaps he simply thinks so highly of these ideas and doesn't believe they received enough airtime in previous scores that he's going to give them second and third chances to be appreciated by the masses (sort of like Jerry Goldsmith's fascination with his theme for The Russia House). Listeners unsympathetic to Horner's re-use fetish will have reason to jump all over this score, and the composer also helps himself to some Vaughn Williams material in the impressive faux choral "Kung Fu Heaven," though casual, pop culture film score collectors may associate it more humorously with John Barry's majestic space station motif from Moonraker. If Horner had explored original thematic ideas for The Karate Kid, it would easily be a four-star score. His staunch apologists will find much to love about it. Admittedly, this is among the best three-star scores ever featured at Filmtracks. But the wholesale recycling is even more damaging to The Karate Kid than it was to Avatar, a trend that Horner must do something about before he ceases simply being controversial and dissolves into little more than a predictable source of ridicule and eye-rolling amusement. *** Track Listings:
Total Time: 64:12
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