Filmtracks Recommends:
Buy it... only if you can find John Debney's pleasantly overachieving score inexpensively in a used-CD bin. Avoid it... if predictable light drama from the composer, similar in its anonymous tones to many of his other like-minded scores, doesn't justify a scant 24 minutes on album. Filmtracks Editorial Review:
Paulie: (John Debney) With constant advancements in special effects technology in films, animals of nearly all the species have been given the ability to talk through the years. While some creatures obviously lend themselves better to such artificially moving mouths, there seemed to be a universal gasp of exasperation when Dreamworks attempted to make a wise-cracking parrot the animal in the spotlight for 1998's Paulie. A natural born comedian, the talking parrot played the role of annoying pest quite well in Paulie, and despite the film's stereotypically dramatic "kid loves animal but parents don't" pull, it's natural to root for the timely death of the bird by the third act. The story exists mostly as a flashback to the flight of a talking parrot across America, thrown out of the house by unsympathetic parents of the Paulie-loving girl (parents who, in a defiance of logic, seem to be the only morons who can't hear the bird speak in coherent human tongues) and suffering through romances, crimes, and adventures on the way back to the girl. Predictably, the reunion with the now-grown woman and the story's overarching premise seemed to indicate that humans are evil for enslaving animals as "pets." But any serious, burning statement made by either the drama or the politics of the story are doused by the film's horrific casting and the downright dumb lines of the talking bird. Appropriately fading into obscurity, one of Paulie's few marginally redeeming elements is its predictable score by composer John Debney, whose career was seemingly stuck in a myriad of ridiculously stupid comedy projects in the late 1990's. He tackles the score for Paulie the same way he would with Dreamer and the plethora of similar "child and animal" genre projects that he and other composers with similar styles would write in the coming years. It's safe, lightly dramatic, slightly slapstick, and totally anonymous music. Debney has proven himself a master of anonymous music for this genre, and your tolerance for the delightful flows of orchestral themes that often come out of such projects will determine your interest level in Paulie. There is a surprising amount of thematic development and continuity in this score, despite its short length. Debney conjures no less than four distinct themes for the film, each with significant airtime within the confines of the work. The title theme for the bird opens the album's medley and highlights "Paulie's Big Flight," representing the bird itself with a bloated and heroic fanfare for strings with brass counterpoint and a patriotic rhythm of rolling percussion. While enjoyable, the theme seems misplaced for the starring bird, not to mention that it should qualify for some reuse fees towards Marc Shaiman's The American President title theme. A theme for the little girl is delicately performed by piano, violin, and harp, and flourishes in the finale reunion cue. From the library of Danny Elfman zaniness comes a scherzo for harmonica and wild percussion that represents the bumbling criminal activity in the film (a lengthy performance of this theme inhabits "The Bungled Burglar"). Debney throws in a sentimental full-ensemble theme at the end of his medley that also closes the film; it's the kind of emotionally appealing theme that Debney seems to pull out of the hat at will. The filler cues in between the primary statements are well connected by each of these ideas (with a slight, seemingly-synthetic choir added for additional punch in the final two cues), though only two dozen minutes of such material exists on the commercial album. There are oddities on that album, of course, including the Hispanic flavor injected into the film when Cheech Marin's character becomes involved. The two Latin songs are betrayed by the comical intent of their own vocals (by Marin, Jay Mohr, Tia Texada, and Josh Cruze), with "Estoy Loco" serving no real purpose other than annoy unsuspecting bystanders. An excerpt from Randy Newman's Marie is badly performed by actress Trini Alvarado at the outset of the final score cue. On the whole, Debney's material for Paulie is pleasantly overachieving, but there simply isn't enough of it on album to justify a full price expenditure. It's a score that would have been better served by the usual promotional album treatment by Debney himself, but don't let that stop you if you can pick it up inexpensively in a used bin. *** Track Listings:
Total Time: 29:34
* Music/Lyrics by Los Lobos with Antonio Banderas. ** Music/Lyrics by Josh Cruze. *** Contains "Marie" by Randy Newman. All artwork and sound clips from Paulie are Copyright © 1998, Varèse Sarabande. 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 5/19/98, updated 3/31/07. Review Version 4.1 - PHP (Filmtracks Publications). Copyright © 1998-2013, Christian Clemmensen. All rights reserved. |
