 |
| Elfman |
Batman Returns: (Danny Elfman) Few audiences could
have expected director Tim Burton to produce a success of the magnitude
of the first
Batman film in 1989. Grossing many hundreds of
millions of dollars on a budget a tenth the size, Warner Brothers did
not hesitate to encourage Burton to follow up with a sequel three years
later. While Warner had kept the director on a tight leash for the
original film, its success afforded Burton substantially more artistic
control over his 1992 sequel. As such, the plot took on more of the
style of the original comics, replacing the serious edge of the first
film with a spirit of fantasy closer to
Beetlejuice than
Batman. The entire aesthetic of
Batman Returns twisted the
concept deep into the realm of the director's own psyche, rejecting some
of the timeless classicism of the initial entry in favor of a world so
dark and cold that the entire movie had to be shot in refrigerated sets.
Expanding the number of villains to two allowed Warner to crank up the
merchandising machine even further, pushing the franchise with a
ferocity that would remain intact for two additional direct sequels. And
yet, even with Burton behind the camera, Michael Keaton in front of it,
and Danny Elfman's famous title theme over the speakers, the film failed
to live up to expectations outside of viewers already devoted to the
style that Burton and Elfman had perpetuated in several films at the
time. For these fans of the Burton sense of gloom and the Elfman sound
of tragedy,
Batman Returns has interestingly remained the
favorite of the first two films in the franchise. Mainstream audiences
and critics eventually lost interest in the movie, though, in part due
to is morbidly strained, sinister and sensual atmosphere, and almost
unrecognizably bleak vision of Gotham.
Batman Returns is
typically only mentioned as an afterthought when the far more revered
Batman is qualified as the best superhero music ever recorded for
cinema, and if that's truly the case, then the sequel was destined to
disappoint. Elfman's score for
Batman Returns divides listeners
along the identical lines of the film, testimony for how well the two
artists' talents intermingled at the time. Outside of the composer and
director's most dedicated followers, the score for
Batman Returns
is like the character of the Penguin, tragically alluring and immensely
complex, but ultimately cold and heartless.
As intelligent as Elfman's evolution of music becomes in
this score, and as closely it resembles the composer's personal style
rather than his emulation of others,
Batman Returns is simply not
as linear and powerful as
Batman, and when you throw in some
intangible problems with performance, mixing, and recording,
Batman
Returns suffers by comparison. It is an incredibly frustrating
score, perhaps one of the most immensely disappointing entries of the
digital age, in part because of all of the aspects of the endeavor that
Elfman got right. The same triumphant title theme returns, and the
winter setting would seem to have lent itself well to the Christmas-like
innocence of his writing current to the time. The technical acuity of
the thematic development for the villains and Elfman's increasing use of
unusual instrumental tones are both outstanding in this continuation.
These elements, along with his maturing skills at writing for an
orchestral ensemble and a broader role for a chorus in
Batman
Returns, promised to result in one of the best sequel scores since
the
Star Wars and
Indiana Jones series. Instead, Elfman
takes two steps forward and four steps back, reverting to a less
powerful style of action scoring more similar to
Scrooged and
Pee-wee's Big Adventure than that he had established in
Batman. The first backwards step in
Batman Returns is
Elfman's total abandonment of the classically rich orchestral constructs
of the original, allowing the primary theme and the presence of its hero
to be dominated by the musical personas of the two villains. As such,
the score lacks conviction for the title character. The wild ambience
that had been restricted to the Joker in the first score now permeates
the entirety of this score, with some of the weight of the action shed
by the use of a lighter chorus, less conventional motifs, more bizarre
orchestration, and less linear rhythms. In essence, the spirit of
Batman Returns returns to that of
Beetlejuice, which is
understandable given Burton's (and Elfman's) broad creative control over
the sequel. But that diverse and depressing spirit detracts from the
power of the original score's approach to Gotham and therefore reduces
its effectiveness by comparison. An argument could be made that Elfman
was simply trying to juggle too many thematic and instrumental
identities, too, a byproduct of a fragmented script.
The chorus used in
Batman was one of mature, deep,
adult tones, assisting in identifying Gotham City as a serious, gloomy,
religious, and spiritual kind of haven for the contrasts of good and
evil. Compare that resonance to Elfman's "la-la" style chorus, carried
over most prominently from the aforementioned
Scrooged and
Nightbreed, and that gothic image is deflated. A more forceful
choir with an enhanced male bass would have been just as welcomed in the
title theme performances, continuing the established Gotham spirit and
still capturing the holiday season. Another step backwards is the
Penguin's thematic representation, for which Elfman never seemingly
decides if he should apply the brush of operatic lyricism or one of
cartoonish tragedy. Unfortunately, he tried to use both, composing
cartoonish themes for the character's circus antics and then suggesting
them in a classically melodramatic fashion. In a few cases, this
combination works, especially in the opening introduction to the
character's origins. From there, however, the score suffers from a
personality crisis that the original never had to contend with.
Technically, the character is treated to two separate themes, one
appealing to viewers' heartstrings in the tragic mode while the other
stomping about with a sour, temperamental personality, evidence of
Elfman's perhaps misappropriated attachment (and therefore attention) to
the character. The Catwoman theme, on the other hand, is purely
ingenious in its employment of high-pitched strings to represent a cat's
"meow" calls and finicky personality. The violins in such whining, high
ranges are often tough on the ears, but that's the entire idea behind
mimicking a cat's voice. The transformation cues are fascinating in
their layering and Elfman keenly uses the repeating two-note rise or
fall of the violins as a motif to represent the character well
throughout the score (and even the costume party song). Only in the
finale of the film, from Selina Kyle's electrocution through the very
end (at which point she is seen perched like Batman on a rooftop), does
her theme truly mix in the middle tonal ranges with the surrounding
underscore. One of the rather obscure delights of
Batman Returns
is Elfman's mingling of the themes for Batman and Catwoman in the score,
avoiding any specific love theme for the two and rather creating a
tense, unfinished ambience by overlapping their themes (which
conveniently begin with the same three notes in the minor mode).
Because Selina and her alter-ego don't have massive armies
of freaks and animals, the mass of action material in
Batman
Returns unfortunately relates to the Penguin. The pompous bombast
that accompanies his circus gang of maniacs and marching armies of
fluffy, tuxedoed killers suffers from the same problem as the primary
theme for their leader. Elfman provides a ripping snare rhythm as
compensation for the cartoonish tragedy of their ascent, but in reality,
that tragedy is not convincing in such a carnival atmosphere. The
score's early cues for the circus gang's explosive attacks on Gotham are
afforded the kind of carnival atmosphere Elfman conjured for his
comedies, and it's insufferable in the doses applied here. Lacking
completely in the score is the elegance of the thematic treatment for
Bruce Wayne, and this is yet another step backwards. His contemplative
and troubled motifs are absent. There are no flourishes of the title
theme in the middle portions
Batman Returns that can compete with
the original, in part because Burton diminishes the awe associated with
the character's scenes in this picture. The title theme performances
sound like Elfman forced the demented atmosphere of
Nightbreed
onto them, especially with the funky drum work at the very outset of the
opening titles. All the powerful mystique of the character is gone,
muddying the waters with the style of the villains to such an extent
that you never get the impression from listening to the score that
Batman ever proves victorious. The finale, for instance, is so concerned
with the Penguin's overwrought theatrics (even in death) and Selina's
continued lives (which doesn't really make sense given that Michelle
Pfeiffer's role would never return in the franchise) that the hero is
sold short at a time when audiences need to be reminded that Batman is
indeed the focus of the stories. All of these shortcomings could likely
have been excused, however, if not for the one most fatal flaw in this
sequel score: a poor performance, recording, and mix. This final step
backwards is the most painful, for the original
Batman score was
performed with extremely robust energy under the direction of Shirley
Walker in London and its sheer power was enveloping and awe-inspiring.
Despite all of the technical problems experienced with the original
score's recording, it still embodied the sound of a classic, exuding an
intangible sense of larger-than-life attitude regardless of lingering
issues with sound quality due to challenges with the recording
studio.
Because the production of
Batman Returns was
moved in its entirety from London to Los Angeles, the score for the
sequel was recorded with a regular studio orchestra at Sony's scoring
stage, and the difference between any recordings in London and Los
Angeles has never been more evident. In
Batman Returns, the
timpani do not resound, the chimes are distant, the gong does not
impress, the piano is not sharp, and the brass is completely flat. Take,
for instance, the sixteenth-notes performed by muted trumpets throughout
the battle sequences in
Batman. Due to a combination of
uninspired playing and more deliberate pacing in
Batman Returns,
the heralding trumpets are a valuable asset lost. Along these lines,
incidentally, all discussion about the influence of Bernard Herrmann on
the original score goes out the window with the sequel. Emphasized in
Batman Returns is a lighter chorus, the continued heavy presence
of the organ, and a different array of medium-range drums to spice up
the mix. And, unfortunately, without the depth of the original
ensemble's sound, this alteration doesn't convince. So much of the
dynamic instrumental applications in
Batman are expanded upon in
the sequel, but not in ways that you can really hear and/or appreciate
them. The mix of the score is extremely muted by comparison to
Batman (and much more dry than the previous score's album mix),
reducing the effectiveness of the metallic percussion particularly. What
happened to the wicked combination of gong and cymbal crashes that
provided the first score with so much grace? The bass region in
Batman Returns drones badly due to the overbearing mix of the
organ; so much of the detail is lost in this environment because the
organ and other booming contributors drown out less powerful
instruments. Casual listeners could probably comment that this score
sounds as though it was recorded in a closet with half the number of
players, despite the opposite being true. Ironically, the mix of the
song "Face to Face," co-written by Elfman and the performing group
Siouxsie and the Banchees for the costume ball scene, is a highlight if
only because it features a far more dynamic range than the score (as
well as all three primary themes in the background). There is simply no
substitute for power, and no dull studio orchestra on a poor day --no
matter how brilliantly mixed and rearranged-- can compete with a more
inspired singing and playing force. In its shallow soundscape,
Batman
Returns sounds, for lack of a more precise word,
lame.
The many fans of this score will contend that Elfman's
changed direction with
Batman Returns suits the film well. In
regards to the fact that film is a far more accurate reflection of
Burton's sensibilities, the score is thus a product closer to the true
heart of Elfman's writing, reflecting other popular early scores by the
composer. This isn't an insult, for the score may have been quite good
had Elfman not established the franchise with a completely different and
incredibly successful direction in the previous entry. To aggravate the
situation even further in 1992, Warner Brothers pumped out an
incomprehensible album for
Batman Returns. While significant in
length, shorter cues are haphazardly merged together without
distinction, and with the track breaks occurring at odd moments, the
packaging offers absolutely no help in distinguishing the cues. In fact,
the only track listings on initial pressings existed on the CD itself,
and Warner slapped a sticker with the name of
every other track
on the outer plastic wrap of the product. Within a short time frame in
2010 and 2011, expanded editions of the score were released, first by
itself in a 2-CD set by La-La Land Records and then on CD #5 in the $500
set, "The Danny Elfman and Tim Burton 25th Anniversary Music Box." The
latter disaster of a collection of Elfman scores (reviewed separately at
Filmtracks) treats
Batman Returns badly, reprising the Warner
album's contents with three bonus cues (albeit good ones) and a series
of Penguin-related demos. The 2010 La-La Land product, re-issued
identically by the same label in 2014 as part of a set with
Batman, is by far the superior choice, with a sensible,
chronological presentation followed by alternate takes and emulations of
the album splices for good measure. Unfortunately, the sound quality on
both the expanded albums is no better than that of the 1992 product, an
immense disappointment. In fact, the 2010 2-CD set has an entirely
different mix in places (the gong and anvil in the big opening title
major chord is quite obviously revealed), but its ambience is arguably
worse than the 1992 and 2011 products! Never has such an intelligent
score with so much potential sounded so muted and uninspired on so many
albums. Overall, Elfman gains a point for his loyalty to the original
Batman theme and great new compositional complexities, but
Jonathan Sheffer's conducting, Shawn Murphy's recording and mix, and
subsequent masterings all disrespect the personality and power of the
classic predecessor. Even Elliot Goldenthal's
Batman Forever,
while providing only a faint mutation of Elfman's title theme, better
captures the grand essence of Gotham and its hero.
@Amazon.com: CD or
Download
- Music as Written for the Film: ***
- Music as Conducted, Performed, Recorded, and Mixed: *
- Music as Heard on All Albums: **
- Overall: **
| Bias Check: |
For Danny Elfman reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 3.16
(in 87 reviews)
and the average viewer rating is 3.27
(in 151,348 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
|
The insert of the 1992 Warner album includes no extra information about
the score or film. The original pressing lacked track listings, too, forcing
Warner to include them on a sticker on the outside of the shrink wrap. The 2010
La-La Land album's insert contains an analysis of both the score and film. The
2011 Warner set features some notes from Elfman about his choices of music for
inclusion on the product. The 2014 La-La Land set's insert includes more detailed
notes about both Elfman scores for the franchise.
