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Review of Battlestar Galactica (Series) (Bear McCreary)
FILMTRACKS RECOMMENDS:
Buy it... if, obviously, you have any affinity for the show, but
also if you have long lamented the use of conservatively minimalistic,
anonymous music in science fiction television shows in general and await
an instrumentally creative and thematically cohesive alternative.
Avoid it... if you need a quick payoff, because Bear McCreary uses the combination of a plethora of character themes and an extremely diverse set of world instruments to form individual identities in Battlestar Galactica without relying upon one dominant, overarching theme.
FILMTRACKS EDITORIAL REVIEW:
Battlestar Galactica (2004 Television Series):
(Bear McCreary) For enthusiasts of the original Battlestar
Galactica show on television in the late 1970's, the 2003
re-imagination of the concept was, despite some initial controversy in
its alterations to certain aspects of the characters and story, a
resounding victory. Having languished for so long in limbo,
Battlestar Galactica was finally embraced by the Sci-Fi Channel
and ultimately dominated its lineup in the late 2000's. Four seasons of
75 episodes depicting the war between humans and their mechanized Cylon
creations contained all the fateful twists of betrayal and redemption
that one would expect from a space opera, throwing religion, a bit of
Terminator mythology, and even Earth's own history into the
equation. Multiple "special event" features, web episodes, and a prequel
spin-off show resulted from a phenomenon which received significant
awards consideration through the years, usually in the technical fields
related to sound and visual effects. Strangely, one aspect of the show
that garnered nearly unanimous praise but never achieved success during
the awards season was Bear McCreary's music. The composer had risen
through the ranks of USC and studied under Elmer Bernstein, eventually
supplementing the six years he spent on Battlestar Galactica with
other television series work, as well as video games and low budget
feature thrillers. McCreary had originally been an assistant to the more
established Richard Gibbs for the 2003 mini-series that kicked off the
resurrection of the concept, and Gibbs did score a few episodes in the
first season before choosing to return to film scoring. Gibbs' original
title theme and supplemental material, however, was used to augment
McCreary's material in later episodes, extending all the way to the
spin-off, Caprica. In part due to Gibbs' early departure and in
part due to the fact that his output is by no means the flashiest or
most enjoyable of the series, the mass of music to ultimately result for
this show is often praised as the work of McCreary alone. And, all
things considered, that's an appropriate distinction, for the music for
Battlestar Galactica didn't seem to really impress the masses
until the second season, by which point McCreary had really begun to
evolve the style of the show's soundtracks into an attractive form that
also translated into decent album presentations.
It's impossible to discuss the reasons for the immense popularity of McCreary's music for Battlestar Galactica without understanding where science fiction scores on television had recently come from. The era of John Williams' space opera extravaganza scores had directly informed Stu Phillips' music for the original series, and while that sound was still the expected norm for the genre on film, television series often couldn't afford such a luxury. The various Star Trek series of the 1980's through 2000's had enjoyed orchestral scores, though they were conceived and executed as purely vague background elements, switching between composers frequently and limiting the opportunity for overarching thematic continuity outside of a blazing title theme. Later on, you started hearing the genre utilizing stylistically unique music, from Babylon 5, Farscape, and Earth: Final Conflict to truly bizarre sideshows like Lexx. Instead of orchestral bombast, sci-fi and fantasy scores were employing exotic or synthetic music once again, partially as a result of limited budgets. In its beginning, the resurrected Battlestar Galactica franchise had its eyes on the same general idea, bucking once again the John Williams sound and doing so cost-effectively. Gibbs' 2003 mini-series was the clearest manifestation of that approach. As McCreary became entrenched in the franchise, he began slowly incorporating themes and soliciting funds from the Sci-Fi Channel for periodic orchestral recordings (still limited to small string and brass sections) that ultimately yielded the show's popular hybrid sound. There is some irony to the fact that by the end of the fourth season, and especially for the lengthy closing episode, McCreary's score is constructed much more like a melodramatic orchestral drama than the experimental collection of worldly (and otherworldly) sounds that defined the initial season. Regardless of where you stand on the issue of minimalism versus traditional orchestration, McCreary's work for Battlestar Galactica has created the same kind of cult following that Christopher Franke enjoyed with his distinctive Babylon 5 scores. And, for any enthusiast of those synthetic 1990's scores for the TNT show, rest assured that when Gibbs and McCreary set out to use unconventional instrumentation and structures for their Battlestar Galactica scores, their product is far more palatable than Evan H. Chen's unlistenable music for the B5 spin-off Crusade, a disaster that broke the hearts of many enthusiasts of Franke's style. Despite successfully transcending the old space opera sound, McCreary perhaps inadvertently embraced a new set of sc-fi and fantasy cliches in the process of assigning stylistic identity to Battlestar Galactica. Both the use of a duduk and ethereal female vocal had been explored in Earth: Final Conflict, for instance, and the combined works of Graeme Revell and Brian Tyler for Sci-Fi Channel's own Dune adaptations had spanned nearly our entire planet's instrumental spectrum to adequately address an alien world. Even the Japanese taiko drums and their associated combination of rhythmic clicking and pounding has become somewhat commonplace, heard frequently, somewhat strangely, on the Discovery Channel's super-popular crab fishing show, "Deadliest Catch." Where McCreary manages to excel is not in the singular employment of such elements in ways to accent an ensemble the way Tyler or Mychael Danna would. Instead, he practically throws every regional instrument of any significance at the scores for Battlestar Galactica, using the taiko drums, Armenian duduk, Chinese erhu, Indian sitar, Uilleann pipes, Irish whistles, Balinese gamelans, among many others, along with a variety of ethnically fluent female vocals to augment the familiar Western tones of orchestral strings and brass. He doesn't skimp on the American electric instruments, either, lacing later seasons with guitars and violins of a distinctly abrasive, electronic edge. He crosses genres as well, moving beyond Gibbs' slightly electronica tone to eventually incorporate operatic classicism and even a touch of hard rock. There's material in these scores that has even been translated into a ballet. And, not unexpectedly, whenever you have specialty instruments and vocalists capable of conveying immensely personal beauty, there are inevitably spine-tingling moments of allure that some might consider guilty pleasures because of their somewhat undemanding constructs. Where the intelligence in McCreary's music easily eclipses most other television scores is in its thematic development, an aspect that gained it countless comparisons to Michael Giacchino's concurrent (and also highly acclaimed) music for Lost. In the first season of Battlestar Galactica, the show's producers decided to abandon their anti-thematic stance; McCreary had already been using various thematic and instrumental identities for various characters and that technique was eventually openly encouraged. That led to an abundance of themes for the show, including at least a dozen for specific characters and a few for general purposes of situational awareness. The irony of all the remarkable success that the show enjoyed because of its music is that the Gibbs and McCreary collaboration ultimately suffered from one overwhelmingly disappointing weakness: the lack of a main thematic identity. There is an abundance of compelling, lovely, and interesting thematic development in Battlestar Galactica, but unfortunately none of that coordination resulted in a title theme as recognizable for casual listeners as Stu Phillip's original concept theme. The sum of McCreary's work therefore maintains all the descriptors that usually plague any collection of episodic scores. Great work overall, most agree, but lacking in the kind of cohesive arch or blatant identity to yield awards and grace concert halls for ages to come. Now, McCreary does have an arch to the overall collection of four seasons of music, despite some thematic elements left hanging without resolution here and there. But it's telling when you hear Phillip's theme adapted in the second season and then sending the fleet off in the final episode and recognize that its major key structure (which is vastly different from the completely bittersweet nature of practically everything McCreary wrote) is still the most instantly recognizable representation of the concept. In that aspect, the new Battlestar Galactica is the catnip of series fans rather than the mainstream population. Still, you can't underestimate the cult fanaticism of the fans of this show and their affection for the creativity and thematic continuity contained within its music. The La-La Land Records label has been among this group of devoted followers, supplying more than half a dozen albums of music from Sci-Fi Channel's (or "Syfy," as it ridiculously calls itself now) production for an eager fanbase. Starting with its release of the primarily Gibbs-scored mini-series in 2004, the label has offered one album per season (culminating in a double CD set for the final season) and pressed music from the two "special event" television films to date, as well as the Caprica spin-off. These CDs allowed McCreary to assemble the highlights of his best work for each season, ranging from one cue per singular episode to many. Sound quality is always consistently outstanding and the albums each contain relevant notes from the composer and producer about the particular music contained within (the season four CD, in fact, contains notes from damn near the entire cast and crew). For fans who want even more information about these scores, McCreary, in a style once pioneered by John Ottman, has published notes about each episodic work on his blog, a rare glimpse into the intriguing details of these compositions. For the purposes of the reviews of the music for Battlestar Galactica at Filmtracks, the series has been divided into its sub-sections. The original Phillips score albums (and there have been plenty!) and the Gibbs mini-series album have been featured at Filmtracks in their own reviews for many years before the writing of this one, and the "special events" (the television movies "The Plan" and "Razor") and Caprica are also to be considered separately. What follows is brief commentary about the music for the actual Battlestar Galactica series of 2004, represented by La-La Land's four season-specific albums. As is the case with any show with music that has been released on CD in episodic or seasonal snippets (such as Babylon 5, Lost, Alias, Star Trek, or the bulging plethora of CDs from Varèse Sarabande for the Xena and Hercules phenomenon), there are better albums than others, especially for casual listeners not attached to the show and not interested in maintaining a complete collection. For such prospective buyers, your best bets for the seasonal Battlestar Galactica albums are #2 and/or #3 for the reasons subsequently outlined. The first season's album is far more sparse, only barely establishing motifs that are much better enunciated later in the show. To those uninterested in the thematic foundations, the album will play like a disjointed collection of metallic percussion loops, Celtic flavor, chamber strings, and female vocals that call upon cliche but are nevertheless enjoyable. The overall mood of all of these scores is somber, though this is particularly the case in the first season; everything is acutely afflicted with a depressing minor-key mode. Notable themes heard on the album include the first of two Starbuck themes ("Starbuck on the Red Moon" and "Forgiven"), the latter one of the album's highlights. The elusive Apollo theme is conveyed late in the challenging "The Olympic Carrier." The many metallic taiko rhythms slap a harsh edge on the Cylon theme. A beautifully melancholy theme for Roslin echoes from a boy soprano in "Kobol's Last Gleaming." A recurring operatic theme throughout the show's run is the first strictly classical identity in "Passacaglia." The standard "Prologue" music containing the Number Six theme in the form of Gibbs' gamelan rhythm is included on this album, as is Gibbs' two different main titles themes (neither of which memorable at all) for the differing American and British airings. Of all of the season-specific albums, this one is easily the weakest, for it wasn't until the second season that McCreary really hit his stride. As admitted by McCreary, the second season's album is a much smoother, easier listening experience, due mostly to his ability to arrange the cues into a longer format more conducive to satisfactory thematic development. The instrumentation in this season, as with the third, is better balanced between the specialty instruments and the occasional symphonic backing. The duduk, for instance, bleeds together with an electric violin in interesting ways. Fans are also treated to a remarkably effective arrangement of Phillips' original theme, scaled back in enthusiasm to serve as the "Colonial Anthem" without changing his tone too far into positive ranks. Series highlights are "Prelude to War," with chopping string rhythms announcing battle, and "Worthy of Survival," a solemn version of the above cue that becomes its own form of a tragedy theme. Notable character themes include Adama family theme in "Reuniting the Fleet" (open to obvious James Horner comparisons with its Irish and Scottish flavor), a rare brass theme with resolve for Tigh in "Martial Law," and the tender friendship theme for the two stalwarts in "Roslin and Adama." The third season's album comes as recommended as the prior one, the instrumentation expanded to include enhanced roles for electric guitars, sitar, and especially erhu. Newly developed identities this year include Starbuck's destiny theme on erhu in "Deathbed and Maelstrom" and a Lee Adama/ Kara Thrace love theme in "Under the Wing." Singular points of interest are the piano solo of "Battlestar Sonatica," a slightly Marco Beltrami-like bit of twangy Western style in "Dirty Hands," and the more forceful rock influence in the finale's "Heeding the Call." The most controversial use of music in the entire series came with the use of the Bob Dylan song "All Along the Watchtower" adapted for the season's concluding revelation scene. While memorable, it is a somewhat obnoxious adaptation if you haven't enjoyed any of the versions of that song through the years. The fourth season's album strays away from the creativity of the previous two years, but is still recommended due to its more melodramatic stance with McCreary's largest ensembles. The finale, "Daybreak" (occupying the second CD of the set alone), is more of a conservatively standard orchestral score, extremely consistent in the flow of its selections but lacking in the outward instrumental flavor of prior years. Varied applications of voices highlight the first CD of episodic music in this set, both "The Signal" and "Diaspora Oratorio" using fresh performance aspects from choral groups. There's even a weighty, musical-like song presence in "Gaeta's Lament" to open the album. McCreary bids farewell to most of his themes in the fourth season with effective sentimentality, too. A lengthy tribute to Adama family theme in "Farewell Apollo" is joined by an equal nod to Roslin's theme in "Roslin and Adama Reunited." More subtle is "Among the Ruins," which faintly reprises the once robust Tigh theme. For those enthused by "All Along the Watchtower," McCreary gives its melody another abrasive performance in "Kara Remembers." Better than all other references is the delicate translation of the original Phillips theme for the heartbreaking "The Heart of the Sun." The only really notable new theme for this season is an important part of the long "Daybreak" episode, finally representing the end goal of reaching Earth with the identity that will send off the series on an optimistic note. Summarized in "Earth," this somewhat whimsical idea is adequate at its task, but lacking in much romantic appeal. It's also extremely reminiscent of the theme with which Jerry Goldsmith closed his respected score for Alien, an interesting reference if in some dose intentional. Overall, the fourth season set is the most impressive product to come from La-La Land for the series, but in the interest of finding some of the most rewarding cues from Battlestar Galactica, the second and third seasons contain the most compelling blend of creative sounds. Even the first season's CD, despite short track times and the sparse nature of some of its material, has five to ten minutes of necessary music for any fan of the series. A person could take these four CDs and compile a truly fantastic compilation of McCreary's most lyrically appealing cues (such a "best of" product might be a good bet for La-La Land, just as the Sonic Images compilations of the best of Franke's Babylon 5 were their strongest offerings). What McCreary has managed to accomplish with these Battlestar Galactica episodic scores is remarkable to consider even if you loathe television altogether and, if not for Giacchino's equally immense coordination of development for Lost, groundbreaking. Even if you have no tolerance for the wild swings in musical genre heard within the scope of this music, they at least serve you with clear evidence that McCreary has the kind of talent to accomplish what Giacchino has on the big screen. It's satisfying in another regard, too, finally proving that the leitmotif format of writing can work wonders for television science-fiction, regardless of budget. Hopefully, this music will put to rest the days when equivalent shows sought conservatively minimalistic, anonymous music. As McCreary has proven, such limitations are folly.
TRACK LISTINGS:
Season 1 Album:
Total Time: 78:31
Season 2 Album: Total Time: 78:51
Season 3 Album: Total Time: 78:51
Season 4 Album: Total Time: 137:02
NOTES & QUOTES:
The inserts of all the albums include insightful information from the
director and/or composer. The Season 4 album also contains extensive notes about
the music from nearly the entire cast and crew of the series.
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The reviews and other textual content contained on the filmtracks.com site may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without the prior written authority of Christian Clemmensen at Filmtracks Publications. All artwork and sound clips from Battlestar Galactica (Series) are Copyright © 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009, La-La Land Records (Season 1), La-La Land Records (Season 2), La-La Land Records (Season 3), La-La Land Records (Season 4) and cannot be redistributed without the label's expressed written consent. Page created 6/1/10 (and not updated significantly since). |
