: (James Horner) An epic 2011 tale of
warring royalty and the discovery of oil on the Arabian Peninsula in the
early 20th Century,
has the distinction of being the
first Arab-funded, major feature film about this region in the history
of cinema. For decades, the rights to the script were held by successful
movie producer and distributor Tarak Ben Ammar, who finally assembled a
truly international crew and secured the support of Qatar's Doha Film
Institute to make
, at $55 million in cost, among the
most expensive Arab films about native topics to ever be attempted. The
film's debut at the Doha Tribeca Film Festival in Qatar, as well as
limited distribution in France and several Arab nations, was not met
with the success hoped by Ben Ammar, and the movie failed to gain an
avenue of release in America or generate any awards season buzz. While
French director Jean-Jacques Annaud's authentic visuals and James
Horner's evocative score are notable attributes of
, a
somewhat mismatched collection of international actors playing Arabs in
the English-language film was largely targeted as the reason for
production's failure, Antonio Banderas in particular difficult for some
viewers to digest. The story is one that takes the basic facts about the
discovery of oil in the Arabian Peninsula and uses that sudden prospect
of wealth and the contest of deserts previously thought useless to
further explore the battles between two powerful families. The customs
of familial politics in the region are thrown into greater turmoil when
the crude and its associated wealth cause allegiances to be tested,
largely before the interference of international interests to inevitably
follow. While parts of
, Annaud also dwells
upon the interpersonal relationships of the two families, and it is
ironically this latter emphasis in the film that mostly clearly informs
the direction of Horner's score. Enthusiasts of the composer's music did
not hear much from him immediately after his popular work for
the
following year representing anything new (or as "new" as one could deem
Horner music to be at that point in his regurgitation cycle) from him.
While a return to general
era" of his
career, it allowed him to collaborate a third time with Annaud and delve
once more into the genre of epic, historical drama that has lured him
several times previously.
Without question,
Black Gold is the kind of film on
which a composer like Horner can make a tremendous impact, an artistic
mark of distinction that probably appeals to a choosy veteran such as
himself. In terms of style, Horner does not disappoint, following a
formula of Western symphonic might and exotic instrumental and vocal
textures akin to the spirit of
The Four Feathers, with the
lyricism of the former parts far outweighing the tortured soul of the
latter. In almost all corners of
Black Gold, you hear Horner
remaining firmly within his stylistic comfort zone, tackling each facet
of the story with instrumentation and progressions familiar to his
career. And yet, despite being saturated with these Horner mannerisms,
the score manages to skirt most of the issues related to self-plagiarism
that have proven problematic in his other recent works. There are
passages within crescendos and interludes of the thematic material that
will recall the composer's past, especially during the limited action
music and the bright optimism of "Leaving as an Emissary" (which will
transport you back to Horner's style of the 1980's), but you will far
less likely be distracted by these fainter references in this entry. The
score sounds rooted ten to twenty years earlier in Horner's career, a
clear and honest expression of his methods without the irritating
self-indulgences in the tired ideas of his fancy. He doesn't
over-intellectualize anything in
Black Gold, his instrumental
colors and thematic applications tackling the concepts of hope and
turbulence without sounding too foreign or contrived. Instead, his
careful execution is where the score's somewhat basic ingredients form
an impressive emotional core that keenly touches upon all the right
feelings for this story. The London orchestra is offered as the lush
representation of Arabia romanticized, owing as much to Maurice Jarre as
the many equivalents that have come since
Lawrence of Arabia.
Strings carry the dramatic load during the most intense thematic
performances, though Horner is sure to throw in some somber, noble horn
passages as usual and, in something of a moderate departure, reduces his
strings to quartet size for a few performances of a secondary theme as
well. The percussion section is varied enough to cover the exotic
location with all of the thumped, tapped, and plucked tones deemed
appropriate, though both snare and timpani receive their supplemental,
slap-happy passages of force as well. The outwardly Arabic elements
include three voices (always in mournful prayer mode), an oud, and what
sounds like either a processed voice or shawm (a traditional Egyptian
oboe), which plays a role of eerie disenchantment in several poignant
cues, often in duet with the regular male vocals. Highlighting the score
in the end, however, are Horner's own, heartbreaking piano
applications.
Thematically, Horner supplies
Black Gold with
two very satisfying themes, both expressed beautifully multiple times.
The primary theme is frequently carried by the solo piano on top of
other, fleeting activity, starting after just a minute in "Main Title -
A Desert Truce." That idea smartly balances its major and minor
attributes, shifting between them to symbolize the hope of riches and
love one hand and the fate of war on the other. When orchestrated to its
fullest in "Horizon to Horizon," this theme flourishes with the help of
boldly descending brass counterpoint lines reminiscent of David Arnold's
Stargate. Horner plays with this brass layer in the equally
impressive ensemble performance of the idea in "Leaving as an Emissary"
before returning to his original descending melodrama a couple of times
in "A Kingdom of Oil." By his final performance of the idea in that cue
(at roughly the 4:20 mark), each element of the ensemble has become
bloated to its maximum weight, the strings undulating with additional
emphasis and the brass counterpoint more aggressively enunciated,
stirring up a level of majesty that will recall
The Mask of Zorro
and its sequel. This main theme avoids progressions obnoxiously similar
to Horner's previous works and, perhaps more importantly, too
substantial a reliance upon stereotypical Middle-Eastern progressions.
There is an Arabic tilt to the supporting phrases in the theme, though
when Horner boils it down to solo woodwind or piano, it sounds like a
transplant from his 1990's character identities of no specific regional
affiliation. The composer's loyalty to this theme makes
Black
Gold a very cohesive work, though the real treasure of the score
lies hidden in its central moments of relational conflict. Here, Horner
develops his secondary theme for the film, one specifically meant to
represent the tortured, shared relationships between the two warring
families. This
Casper-like family theme is integral to the
resonating beauty of the score's middle passages and is more
attributable as the source of the "haunting" cues than the main theme.
Once again, the piano is the tool of choice for the family theme,
introducing it with solo cello at the start of "Father and Son" before
becoming increasingly troubled by exotic elements in "Phantom Army," "So
This is War," and "The Blowing Sands." The piano statements of this idea
in the three cues spanning "Father and Son" to "So This is War" on the
album release are accompanied by tasteful percussion, the shawm-like
tones, and vocal elements that yield, simply put, some of the most
depressingly lovely music to come from Horner in a decade. In "One
Brother Lives, One Brother Dies" and "A Kingdom of Oil," this theme is
handed to stately but arguably colder solo strings to grimly resolve the
identity where appropriate.
There are rarely moments in
Black Gold when
Horner is not shaping one of his two themes to maintain your interest.
With the exception of the latter half of "Main Title - A Desert Truce"
(easily the least interesting portion on album), he always fills the
score with intriguing sub-motifs or textures. A refreshingly upbeat cue
is "The Wonders of Wealth," a spritely two minutes of buoyant enthusiasm
that is a pleasantly affable reminder of the composer's similar ideas
for countless children's scores. The first twenty seconds of "You Were a
Prince" is a percussive highlight, including the nicely layered clanging
of metal, drums, and standard Horner piano rumble. A number of
techniques in the first half of "The Blowing Sands" are intelligently
"wayward" in their movements, from the wailing shawm/voice to woodwind
figures and unsettled strings that struggle to find footing in a good
pitch. It's difficult to appreciate on album for its issues of tonality,
but the effect works. A return to the optimism of "The Wonders of
Wealth" is joined by the main theme (with trumpet support this time) in
"Fresh Water," a welcome respite from the despair of previous cues. In
the first half of "One Brother Lives, One Brother Dies" and most of
"Battle in the Oil Fields," Horner lets the snare rip in ballsy action
rhythms that are a bit anonymous in his career but achieve their goals.
Of all the singular aspects of
Black Gold, however, the exotic
usage of voice (or shawm) and percussion are what bring you back for
more. Most striking is the score's opening two minutes, "Main Title"
starting with a prayer-like solo vocal performance and expanding out to
include other voices, the piano, and slight orchestral resonance. The
beauty of the second minute of this cue is arguably unparalleled in the
remainder of the score. Likewise, the vocal tones in "Father and Son,"
"Phantom Army," and "So This is War" are not to be missed, especially by
listeners eager to skip to the full ensemble grandeur of the title
theme. In the latter two cues, as well as at the end of "A Kingdom of
Oil," Horner creates striking background tones (sometimes dissonant,
sometimes complimentary) that are intentionally meant to be so vague in
their origin that they could be produced by shawm, voice, or oboe. At
some point in these cues, Horner adjusts the sound to suggest all of
them, though the most poignant is the shift to softer female vocals to
conclude the tone in "A Kingdom of Oil" with a more human touch.
Overall, you don't often hear this kind of precision in instrumental
sounds and thematic duality in this generation of film music, and
Horner's ability to perfectly capture a balance of Arabia and the West,
as well as the corresponding balance between sorrow and aspiration,
results in a very impressive score.
Black Gold certainly puts
A Far Off Place in perspective and, if only more of the
intoxicating exotic mixes had been infused into the remainder of the
work, could have contended with the top scores of 2011.
**** @Amazon.com: CD or
Download
| Bias Check: |
For James Horner reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 3.16
(in 103 reviews)
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