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The Terminator: (Brad Fiedel) Whether writer and
director James Cameron's 1984 story of
The Terminator was
original or not, it persists as one of the most compelling science
fiction concepts ever told. After the computers of the world turn
against humanity and nearly eliminate their creators in the late 1990's,
surviving rebels start to successfully fight back against the machines.
In an effort to alter the past to preserve their power in the future,
the mechanized villains send a cyborg killer called a terminator back to
1984 to eliminate the mother of the rebel leader before he is conceived.
The humans send back a lone protector as well, and the chase is on. The
bulk of its running time set in contemporary times,
The
Terminator is a suspenseful thriller with protagonists and
antagonists so clearly defined that it was guaranteed to hold audience
interest. Still, the production had to overcome several hurdles, the
most intriguing of which a lawsuit (settled by Cameron) from writer
Harlan Ellison, who claimed that Cameron took significant inspiration
from two of his episodes of "The Outer Limits." Also problematic was a
budget of only $6.5 million and several hiccups in the casting process.
Ultimately, however, with bodybuilder Arnold Schwarzenegger given 16
quickly famous lines and about 30 people to graphically execute on
screen, Cameron's production went on to $38 million in immediate grosses
and $78 million overall worldwide. Along with a project he had been
working on simultaneously (
Aliens), this success gave him the
fiscal latitude to shoot a sequel to
The Terminator six years
later. The concept would be extended to four films and a television
series within 25 years. So much of the original film became influential
in pop culture (it is indeed saturated with the pop sensibilities of the
early 1980's) that it's sometimes easy to overlook the fact that
The
Terminator is, simply put, suspenseful storytelling at its best.
Almost all of the production values of the film were based on visions
beyond their time, and if there was a weakness in any part of the
package, the remaining elements often more than compensated. One area
typically not questioned but still divisive is Brad Fiedel's score for
The Terminator, arguably the most beleaguered legacy of the film
outside of a fanbase loyal to synthetic scores of the era. The film's
sound was never superb in its original version, not mixed into stereo
until video releases long after the fact. The score's monotone and raw
rendering was therefore simplistic in many ways when it was first heard,
but few argue that it didn't succeed in its original context.
Fiedel's career in Hollywood was rather sparse and, in its
highlights, tied directly to his collaboration with Cameron. A
keyboardist for the group Hall and Oates, he initially provided
inexpensive electronic music for a variety of trashy films in the
1970's. He eventually tackled the orchestral sound for 1988's
The
Accused, but even by Cameron's 1994 blockbuster
True Lies,
Fiedel had not convinced many film score collectors that he possessed
any significant ability to handle that level of scoring. He eventually
retired from writing music for television and films in the late 1990's,
weary of the studio system and its politics. His scores for the first
two
Terminator films remain his most lasting impact on the
industry, the title theme largely defining his career. As to be expected
in any low budget production for a man in his early 30's attempting to
make a living in the scoring business, the music for
The
Terminator is distinctly cheap in its tone and depth. Creativity
substituted for the modern libraries of sounds associated with similar
film scores two decades later. Fiedel not only recorded unconventional
sound effects for musical manipulation, including the hitting of a
microphone with a cast iron skillet to produce one of the score's most
memorable rhythmic tones, but he also used the sounds of his own screams
for the choral effects heard most notably at the climax of the film. The
keyboarded motifs, electric violin, and early sequencer effects in
The Terminator are truly dated in their sound; Fiedel didn't have
the resources of Jerry Goldsmith and other mainstream pioneers of
electronic film scores during the 80's. But like the many song
placements in the film, Fiedel's score represents 1984 as well as every
other aspect of the film, and if you accept it in that context, then you
understand its merit. Complexity in structure was not really a necessity
for
The Terminator, for the villains and heroes are so easily
distinguishable. The mechanized embodiment of the terror is also a
convenient excuse for a sparse electronic score that rarely attempts any
meaningful depth in the soundscape. The suspense cues require little
more than ambient droning to suggest the inevitable, and Fiedel's quite
loops here are thus effective. More grating is his explicit chasing
material, which tends to ramble obnoxiously in an extremely constricted
series of jabs and blasts. Synthetic orchestra hits were acceptable at
the time, but they do acutely cheapen the proceedings. The drum pad hits
are a little easier to handle in retrospect, and Fiedel's imitations of
wailing sirens and screeching tires basically function in "Garage Chase"
and "Tunnel Chase."
Several coherent musical identities used consistently by
Fiedel cause
The Terminator to be more satisfactory in terms of
its application than his sequel score in 1991. The title theme speaks
for itself, a harmonically romantic piece of pretty simplicity that
represents the developing bond between the targeted Sarah Conner and
Kyle Reese, her protector. The title sequences use this theme over the
score's various rhythmic devices and droning sound effects. Its
keyboarding is a bit more raw here than it would be in
Terminator 2:
Judgement Day, the only real comparative asset of the second score.
The theme is translated to piano for the actual love scene between
Conner and Reese, reprised in somber, deceptively redemptive fashion in
"Death by Fire." Long fragments of this theme are bittersweet in their
piano performances in "Sarah's Destiny" at the conclusion of the
picture. The very basic counterpoint in this theme's love scene
performance is slightly irritating in its volume. The terminator itself
is represented by a rhythmic series of thumps that differs in its
construct throughout this score and the sequel. In the title sequences,
the machine's rhythm consists of three sets of pairs on key followed by
a short pair of bridge notes; this motif would be shortened by one note
for the sequel, interestingly. In the actual underscore of
The
Terminator, however, Fiedel cuts this motif back to four linear
notes that function like the heartbeat of the machine. Heard first in
"The Terminator's Arrival," this idea always foreshadows or accompanies
the terminator when it is at its calmest, most procedural mode.
Interestingly, the motif seems to slightly increase in tempo as the
story progresses, noticeably faster in "Arm & Eye Surgery" and
determinedly forceful in the harrowing "Terminator Gets Up" as the metal
exoskeleton of the machine first reveals itself. Before Connor realizes
that she is a target, Fiedel uses the piano to define her normal
everyday existence, assisted by acoustic guitar in a light, solitary
major-key idea in "Sarah on Her Motorbike." Her realization of trouble
in "Sarah in the Bar" takes that piano motif to a quickly fearful
incarnation. Reese is given an 8-note ascending loop on raw, synthetic
keyboarding that accompanies him in the future (as in the prelude to the
main title) and 1984 (as in his initial elusion from authorities heard
during "Reese in Alley"). Outside of these explicit structures, Fiedel
relies upon his instrumentation to identify the level of menace in a
particular scene. The manipulated choral effects for the future scenes
is appropriately other-worldly, leading to the dissonant climax with a
descending motif that literally mimics the crushing and thrashing of the
terminator.
On album, many of Fiedel's looped effects are quite
effective in their bouncing from one speaker to another, a technique
negated in the mono theatrical release of the film. His contribution to
The Terminator is almost always sufficient in context, though
given its inherent limitations, it's difficult to say if a deeper, more
complicated and/or timeless score would have functioned any better. It
is, on the whole, a work that remains a cult favorite for those devoted
to both the composer and this franchise. For collectors of more commonly
embraced orchestral film scores, Fiedel's sound may be simply too dated
for repeated album enjoyment. Regardless of where you fall in that
spectrum, the title theme for
The Terminator has to be recognized
as one of the most memorable of its era. Aside from the score, Cameron's
employment of contemporary songs also had a significant impact on the
narrative of
The Terminator, with five notable source usages
becoming fan favorites themselves. Embedded in the lyrics of these songs
is also a tremendous sense of humor, for most of them precisely match
the action about to happen in the story. The two songs in the "Tech
Noir" nightclub are most obvious and vital, both performed by Tahnee
Cain and Tryanglz. They represent California new wave music of the early
80's very distinctly, and demand for them alone caused the original
album for this soundtrack to become scarce. Their lyrics cleverly
reference the aspects of pursuit and masquerade relevant to the scene.
The first, "Photoplay," is heard as Conner walks into the club, but the
second, "Burnin' in the Third Degree," is the centerpiece of the scene.
Perhaps the most suspenseful moment in the film shows Conner leaning
over to pick up a beverage she accidentally knocked to the floor in the
club, thus coincidentally obscuring herself from the vision of the
ominously passing terminator. Cameron slightly slows the visuals to
accentuate this scene, adding an eerie, wet mix to "Burnin' in the Third
Degree" in this exact shot (heard in its original mix at 2:10 into the
song on album) while still somehow synching the dancers on the screen to
the song's regular speed. Cameron seems fond of using slightly slower or
faster speeds of photography in
The Terminator (the latter used
to increase velocities during the car chases), but never is this
technique more effective than with the manipulation of the music here.
The subsequent merging of this song with the Fiedel cue "Tech Noir"
represents the official shattering of Conner's world as she first spots
Reese in the club. The same group also performs "You Can't Do That" for
the scene earlier in the film as Conner and her roommate are seen
preparing for their dates; the lyrics and title of the song, of course,
reference a gun shop owner's final words to the terminator before his
killing in the forthcoming scene.
Outside of the contributions of Tahnee Cain and
Tryanglz, Cameron also placed two additional songs into situations
involving Conner's ditzy roommate, Ginger. The first, performed by Jay
Fergusson and 16mm, is "Pictures of You," which is used by Ginger's
boyfriend to drown out the phone message from Conner in an adjoining
room. The use of picture identification by the terminator in the
following scene is what this song references. Right before she is killed
by the terminator (because he mistakenly believes her to be Conner),
Ginger is listening to Linn Van Hek's "Intimacy" on her Walkman. The
male choral baseline repeatedly says "it's a mistake" in distinctly
European tones, producing perhaps the most humorous moment in the film
because it underlines or foreshadows so many different fallacies
involved with the scene. None of these songs will likely appeal to film
score collectors, regardless of whether they appreciate Fiedel's work or
not, but the careful application of these songs to the film assists in
not only a high number of in-jokes, but also the reinforcement that even
the most intimate or popular pop culture situations in the setting
aren't immune from the death that follows the singular attention of the
terminator. Despite the high profile nature of the film, the music from
The Terminator has become difficult to find on CD. Its initial
release in digital form came in 1991, when Cinemaster (a DCC subsidiary)
produced a CD identical to the contents of the Enigma LP release (which
had originally placed Fiedel's score on one side and the songs on the
other). Only about 14 minutes of Fiedel's music existed on this album,
though it did provide a basic survey of the highlights. Missing were the
actual title sequence cues, the extended piano performances, and most of
the chase music. Because of the songs, though, it went out print and
shot up to unrealistic prices. In 1994 and 1995, Edel distributed what
it called "The Definitive Edition" with only Fiedel's score (71 minutes
of it!) and because this was primarily a European product, it quickly
became difficult to find as well. Interestingly, it stated on the back,
"The Producers freely acknowledge The Works of Harlen Ellison," which
not only speaks to the circumstances swirling about the film's
production but also album producer Ford A. Thaxton's erroneous spelling
(one pressing used "The Definite Edition" on the front cover, too).
Sound quality on both albums is decent, the 1994 Edel CD very clear in
even the most yearning, low-volume piano performances in "Conversations
by the Window." If you're looking for either product, expect to shell
out more than they are worth. The best presentation would merge most of
the score with the songs, and unfortunately, no such product has ever
existed. Given the popularity of the film, such a treatment (complete,
hopefully, with standalone quotes) may someday come, but unless you're
well aware of the dated and often grating synthetic tone of Fiedel's
score, don't pursue this one blindly.
*** Amazon.com Price Hunt: CD or Download
Only the 1994/1995 album includes extra information about the score and film.
Alternate pressings of that album use "Definitive Edition" and "Definite
Edition" on the front cover.