Given that this film was a reuniting of Trainspotting's director (Boyle), producer (Andrew Macdonald), and screenwriter (John Hodge), it should have come as no surprise that a musical identity consisting of bad-ass techno/electronica and hard rock songs was destined to define it. The collection of such songs yielded an extremely successful song compilation CD at the time of the film's release. What only sharp cinematic enthusiasts who happened to appreciate The Beach (the few in existence) realized was the intrigue regarding Angelo Badalamenti's score for the film as well. Best known for his associations with director David Lynch, Badalamenti is one of those composers capable of surprising you with each and every new score. He can break your heart with flowing orchestral romanticism in Cousins and The Comfort of Strangers but also repel you with electronic dissonance so awful that scores like Arlington Road will make you nauseous. He can also straddle the eerie line in between lyricism and ambient dissolution with ease as well, a style that defines Blue Velvet. Compilations of his work are fascinating to behold, if only because of the man's incredible range of capabilities. For The Beach, Badalamenti ended up working with Orbital's Barry Adamson to fuse an orchestral presence with heavy techno elements of a level of brutality not much different from Orbital's influence on Michael Kamen's Event Horizon. There is a striking range of moods in the resulting score, though even in the most beautiful portions by Badalamenti, unease lurks in a slightly dissonant haze. The terrifying half of this score is truly unlistenable. Much of it is backed by aggressive strings and brass contributions, but the synthetic pounding over obnoxiously harsh loops is too daunting for even this foreign of an environment. With the channel-bouncing applications of sound effects, some of which mimicking the sounds of handheld power tools and screeching tires quite well, the boundaries separating music and effects are regularly crossed. Between "Bizarre City" and "Dreamburst," among others, The Beach will test your limits of tolerance.

The more subdued variations of the darker half of this score in "Daffy's Done" and "Grassmark" maintain a very disturbing and vague ambience of keyboarded fog. The action sequences unfortunately obscure some very forceful orchestral recordings with the synthetic slapping and thumping; it would be fascinating to hear these orchestral sessions prior to the irritating overlays. While those crossing over from the song compilation album will probably be interested in the electronica, however, film score collectors will clearly gravitate towards the almost mysterious title theme, performed in grand harmony by full orchestral ensemble and children's choir. This theme is enunciated in full several times throughout the score, starting with "Swim to Island," and informs the more subtle, longingly romantic variations in "Mournful Myth," "Starnight," and "Blue Sex" (hey, no Avatar jokes). Its enticingly simple structure stays with you long after the album or film has finished, likely the main cause of the score's legendary status in the collector's market. Utilizing acoustic guitar, harp, and easy-going keyboarding and fantastic metallic percussion, these cues really do represent what you'd hope to hear upon visiting a perfect beach. The deceiving choral innocence in these cues exists somewhere between James Horner's application of voices in Titanic and the whimsical side of John Barry's vintage fantasy tendencies. You could assemble fifteen minutes of truly magical, digestible majesty and light romance music from Badalamenti's score, but the immense beauty to result may not warrant the price of the collectible score-only CD for The Beach that disappeared from stores not long after its street date. It was offered by London Records several months after the song compilation (to coincide with the home video release of the movie), and its tracks are in an incomprehensible order that ruins the listening experience. Sound quality is absolutely crystal clear, a great benefit to the orchestral portions of cues like "Grassmark" (notice the muscular brass in the background of this otherwise forgettable cue) but also a nuisance when those wacky sound effects start buzzing in your ears during the score's relentless techno rhythms. Overall, Badalamenti hits a home run during the highlights, but the rest of the score is a mind-bogglingly and depressingly difficult challenge.  ***   @Amazon.com: CD or Download