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Seven: (Howard Shore) So disgusting was the plot of
David Fincher's 1995 thriller
Seven that it actually turned its
biggest vice into a source of blockbuster appeal. Through outstanding
acting performances and a bleached process of photography that
convincingly conveyed the decay of urban society, the production grossed
ten times more than its $30 million budget, earning both critical and
popular praise while largely overlooked by major awards. It's a
masterpiece of despair, so overwhelmingly depressing that it captures
your attention despite its absolutely grotesque depictions of violence.
A killer frustrated by society's ills creates elaborate murder scenes
inspired by the historical seven deadly sins, eventually involving the
pursuing detectives in the execution of the final two sins. The
complicated and shockingly disturbing methods of killing in
Seven
are among the most difficult ever put to screen, and the agonizing
climax, calmly but devastatingly performed by Kevin Spacey in a heralded
cameo role, is nothing less than traumatizing. Capitalizing on the
notion that not only is society a potential loss, but the bad guy also
sometimes wins,
Seven is an interesting study in insanity, a
topic debated considerably by the three leads in the final scene of the
film. Everything sensory about
Seven is dull by intention, its
technical elements desaturated to emphasize a dirty environment, and the
mixing of the music into that atmosphere is equally hazy. In between the
use of Nine Inch Nails and David Bowie songs during the opening and
closing credits sequences,
Seven employs music very sparingly.
The older, wiser detective played by Morgan Freeman is typically
provided a faint mix of vintage jazz, heard in the mix as though it was
quietly playing in another room during that character's moments of
contemplation. The younger detective, embodied by Brad Pitt, doesn't
receive any coherent musical identity. For the sinister and methodical
rituals of Spacey's "John Doe," Fincher turned to an original score by
Howard Shore (with whom the director would collaborate a few more times
for later character-centered thrillers). Even here, though, the impact
of the music is secondary (at best) compared to the intensity of the
plot. There exist really only two modes of operation for Shore's
underscore in
Seven: the quietly mechanical primary theme for Doe
and the alternately heightened, broad strokes of deep brass for scenes
of elevated activity. Most of the film utilizes the first element, with
the Doe theme mixed very minimally in between extended conversational
scenes that feature no music at all.
If
Seven has a significant weakness, it is in
the pacing of some of these slower scenes, and the application of
Shore's churning score doesn't assist the film in overcoming the hiccups
it experiences along its path to the inevitable. Like nearly every
expression in the score, the composer identifies the theme with
extremely low brass in slightly dissonant chord structures. There is
significant menace to be heard in both of the two types of cues that
Shore offers the film. If you're seeking much intelligence in the actual
constructs underneath this brooding ambience, you might be disappointed.
Shore does, likely intentionally, form the Doe theme using seven notes
(two descending pairs followed by three pulsations), and, on occasion he
uses a briefly rising alternative to this figure when Gwyneth Paltrow's
character is on screen. The secondary motif in the score is a more
primal rhythm extending from the three final notes of Doe's theme,
methodically pulsating on the low brass with crashing piano, thumps from
percussion, and muted trumpets creating disharmony with each calculated
throb. This motif accompanies a few of the scenes of police movement in
the middle of the film, but it makes the greatest impression in the
electrical grid scene that closes the narrative. In both the car ride to
this final location and in the crescendo to the conclusive execution,
Shore's pounding and difficult score makes its most lasting impression.
At the end of that scene, Shore hints at the development of a more
melodramatic seven-note theme based on the same general movement of
Doe's identity, but as in the rest of the work, this theme is never
fully realized. Ultimately, this is a low-key, dissonant score that
doesn't have much more than an ambient impact on the film. It's easy to
get the impression that the movie would have functioned almost as well
without any original music until the final fifteen minutes. The album is
dissatisfying not only because the score really doesn't translate well
into its own listening experience, but also because the aforementioned
songs by Nine Inch Nails and David Bowie ("Closer" and "The Hearts
Filthy Lesson," respectively) were not included by TVT Records on the
product. After a collection of mostly incongruent vintage jazz and light
rock, the album concludes with almost twenty minutes of Shore's score in
two tracks. These two tracks conveniently divide the brooding,
ritualistic Doe theme (in "Portrait of John Doe") from the agonizingly
climactic pounding of the ensemble for the final scenes (in "Suite From
Seven"), but they aren't worth the album alone for score collectors.
Between the incredibly depressing personality of the score and the poor
selection of songs for the remainder of the album, there's no reason to
invest in this product. A 60-minute Concorde score-only bootleg can
expand the misery.
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| Bias Check: | For Howard Shore reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating
is 3.43 (in 23 reviews)
and the average viewer rating is 3.25
(in 93,154 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
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None of the albums' inserts includes extra information about the score or film.