Filmtracks Recommends:
Buy it... if you suffer from a Narcissistic Personality Disorder that includes, but is not limited to, unexplainable self-punishment, guilt-purging behavior patterns, unloving strangulation of self-freedom, compulsive-ritualistic tendencies, and inertly reverting to default, counterproductive conduct. Avoid it... if you have an affectionate attachment to your brain cells, because you'll discovered several of them missing after sitting through the album of this brash, mechanized noise. Filmtracks Editorial Review:
Limitless: (Paul Leonard-Morgan) There are a lot of stupid people out there, and that's probably why there's this scientific myth that the average human can only use 20% of his or her brain power at any given time. That, of course is inaccurate, lending credence to the simple fact that people likely choose to be lazy slouches and play with their sex organs rather than invent the next source of clean, abundant energy. In reality, though, if every neuron in the brain were to fire at the same time, that person would be killed or substantially damaged by the shift in the body's oxygen supply. Never mind such trivial matters when watching the 2011 thriller Limitless, however, a movie that postulates that people could invent a pill that would allow you to use all of your brain's potential simultaneously and perpetually. The lead character is down in the dumps when he acquires this drug, and not long after that he finds himself rich, with the woman he loves, and a target of those trafficking the pills. His aspirations turn to corporate and political power, all the while dealing with the drug's side effects. Though it would have been funny if the plot had left the man alone, destitute, and with irreparable erectile dysfunction, Limitless instead shows him become superhuman even after weaning himself of the pills, a lovely lesson to be taught to our younger generations about the benefits of drugs. The movie (formerly named "The Dark Fields" after the book that inspired it) is a science fiction thriller with a fair amount of chasing, and it stirred up enough critical praise and word of mouth to generate impressive returns at the box office. None of the production elements (not even Robert De Niro in a supporting role) was meant to stimulate that extra 80% of our supposed brain power, unfortunately, and foremost amongst the ridiculously stupid aspects of Limitless is its original score. Most people outside of Great Britain will not be familiar with Scottish composer Paul Leonard-Morgan as of 2011, but his road towards this first international feature recognition is populated with music far better than what you hear in Limitless. For those who have appreciated his career for its variety of television scores, solo album, and arrangements of electronics, vocals, and strings, there is easily a discernable connection between his style and that of collaborator Craig Armstrong. While much of his score and solo work could be written off by film music veterans as bland contemporary electronic blends for low budget environments, Leonard-Morgan has been honored with both a BAFTA award win and Ivor Novello nomination for his efforts. His grand orchestral work for a recent BBC show about Scotland's history is impressive. So how on Earth did Leonard-Morgan write such unintelligible trash for Limitless? It must be that 20% of the brain phenomenon. One subtle constant in the most recognized work by the composer is his tendency to reveal his inspiration. Any film music veteran will recognize touches of Armstrong's influence without knowing the factual connection, especially in his similar use of the piano. For Limitless, Leonard-Morgan seems to have decided to emulate the absolute most electronically brash and systematically vague method of treating a motion picture to heavily manipulated electronic samples and spewing them out without unique style or even any regard for synchronization points. Imagine the sound your gas-powered lawnmower makes when it hits a big chunk of wet grass and chokes its engine to a halt. Imagine the grinding of your co-worker's dying computer hard drive as he kicks the crap out of the workstation in the midst of a tough day. Imagine that nagging rattle that comes from the convergence of the front driver-side pillar and dash of your aging vehicle when travelling on the highway. Imagine the clattering of a laundry dryer full of clothes covered with metal buttons. Imagine that moment of panic when you realize that you've just heard yourself run your boat over a large, exposed rock. Imagine half of the obnoxious noises Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross conjured for The Social Network. Imagine 53 minutes of all of these slashing, clicking, ripping, crunching, tearing, and slapping layers mixed haphazardly using the best manipulation techniques that computers can now utilize to turn sound effects into music. And there you have the score for Limitless. Rock band elements, led by layers of electric guitars and hyperactive percussion, are joined by keyboarded motifs and meandering background string lines. There are moments when these ingredients give you a palatable cookie, as in "Eddie Knows What to Do" and "I Still Love You," but these are essentially dumbed-down ambient solo pieces. The rest of the score is a string of boring, tired electronic rhythms and loops meant to exude coolness and be "out there." It's a "hey, look what I can do with my computer's software" kind of effort. Even the score's only true unifier, its primary theme, is extremely simplistic in its major/minor shifts of three-note phrases; it is over-referenced to the point of exhaustion. The mix of the score is meant to be extremely harsh and synthetic ("Eddie is Sick" is excruciatingly painful), and between this futuristic environment and the score's total lack of emotional appeal or narrative development, one would think there isn't a live person in the plot. Perhaps if the software was asked to entirely replace composers someday, this is the kind of pointless garbage the machine would yield. Get out your pain pills, fellow listener, for here awaits your limitless headache. * Track Listings:
Total Time: 53:23
All artwork and sound clips from Limitless are Copyright © 2011, Relativity Music Group. 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 4/26/11, updated 4/26/11. Review Version 4.1 - PHP (Filmtracks Publications). Copyright © 2011-2013, Christian Clemmensen. All rights reserved. |
