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Battlestar Galactica (2003 Television Mini-Series):
(Richard Gibbs) When the original
Battlestar Galactica show
graced television screens for one doomed season in 1978-1979, it was a
clear reaction to the biblical space opera concept that had so
overwhelmingly impressed audiences in
Star Wars the year before.
The show was cancelled partly because of its own cheesiness, partly
because of high production costs per episode, and partly for half a
dozen other various reasons, and die-hard fans of that series hoped for
years for a reintroduction of
Battlestar Galactica in the same
way that
Star Trek was similarly resurrected on television.
Countless producers, directors, and writers attempted to "re-imagine"
the concept, extending to the lobbying of such a second chance by the
original show's producers and cast members. Finally, in 2003, the Sci-Fi
Channel, with a few impressive films under its belt (including
resounding success of their
Dune adaptations) took on the
challenge of bringing
Battlestar Galactica back to life in a
three-hour mini-series. Encouraged by what they saw, a regular
television series resulted, lasting for four official seasons and
including special film events and spin-offs. The mini-series came at the
25th anniversary of the original show and its celebratory, complete
release on DVD. When you're dealing with something as cultish as this,
however, it's hard to satisfy everybody, and through the tinkering of
the show's basic plot, characters, and style by director Michael Rymer
and writer Ronald Moore, the re-imagining did unfortunately become a
major annoyance for some older, die-hard
Battlestar Galactica
fans. The primary characters have been completely switched around in
gender, ethnicity, and personality, with the male Starbuck character
now, for instance, a rebellious female. The direction of the show
completely tossed aside the swashbuckling space opera attitude and opted
for more of a realistic, downbeat, documentary-style approach. Included
in this change was the use of hand-held cameras that swoosh in upon and
around characters from all sides and always wiggling about in the
fashion that
E.R. made so famous in the 1990's. The soundtrack
for the 2003 mini-series would be a 180-degree turn from Stu Phillips'
original brassy fanfares, with former Oingo Boingo member Richard Gibbs
continuing a collaboration with the director that included
Queen of
the Damned. As with many such productions, Gibbs and his assistants
had an insanely short period of time in which to complete the score for
over two hours of spotted material in the film. His foremost help came
from young composer Bear McCreary, who would eventually take over the
subsequent series' scoring duties when Gibbs returned to film
scoring.
Naturally, Gibbs did initially express his
disappointment in not being able to write a huge, swashbuckling score
for the
Battlestar Galactica mini-series. His early attempts to
adapt Phillips' original theme were unfruitful and eventually abandoned.
He did, however, capture the essence of a documentary environment in
many of the ways that the director had requested. The score is foreign
and distant in sound and style, paying no attention to brass instruments
whatsoever, and in the same sort of meandering fashion, Gibb's score
will bring back memories of Grame Revell's
Dune score for the
Sci-Fi channel's first entry in that series. Like that Revell, music,
however, Gibbs'
Battlestar Galactica is so vastly different from
the original show that dissatisfaction from entrenched viewers is likely
to result. The Sci-fi Channel did a 180 degree turn with
Children of
Dune and rectified that series' musical approach with a wildly
popular, hugely orchestral score, and the idea of using Middle
Eastern-flavored female vocals in a fantasy film (a highlight of that
score) certainly got attached to
Battlestar Galactica as well.
Ironically, though, it is the prominence of these vocals that makes
Gibbs' score schizophrenic and difficult to understand. On one hand, the
noble themes are gone and the action sequences are scored with violently
tapping and beating percussion. Many of the larger, active shots are
scored in the self-described "minimalist" style (in the words of the
composer and director), and yet whenever the elements of humanity come
into play, Gibbs falls right back into that conventional style of
flowing strings, other-worldly electronics, and female vocals (complete
with a duduk contribution) that are absolute stereotypes of 2000's
science fiction music that rebels against the John Williams era. Thus,
the two kinds of music you hear in this score have nothing in common.
You either hear the soft and lyrical vocals with backing strings or the
harsh, lonely percussion, with very little middle ground. One plays to
the director's documentary style while the other tries to appease the
expectations of audiences of the era. In the end, the hour-long album
includes a few very enjoyable cues of these vocals and strings ("To Kiss
or Not to Kiss," "The Lottery Ticket"), but the extended battle
sequences are painful to tolerate because of their stark constructs. The
listening experience on album is badly disjointed without some
rearrangement, and no matter where you fall on the argument of whether
or not this version of
Battlestar Galactica is a travesty, the
presentation of its music is hopelessly torn. The same challenge would
arise on the album of McCreary's first season material for the resulting
television series, though the "Season 2" and later albums rectified this
problem as the composer was allowed to convey a more cohesive narrative
flow.
*** @Amazon.com: CD or
Download
The insert includes extensive information about the score and
mini-series by the composer and director. When first opened, however, it
unleashed an overwhelmingly bad smell for some unknown reason.
