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Isham |
Blade: (Mark Isham) For those who don't require
much intelligent thought when enjoying gore and profanity on screen,
Blade is a 1998 adaptation from a comic strip which features the
creature battles on and under our city streets. At war are a culture of
vampires and Wesley Snipes' Blade character, a half vampire/half human
"daywalker" who is intent on stopping the pureblood vampires from
raising evil gods, beginning the apocalypse, and increasing everyone's
insurance rates. The concept, following the undead avenger model of
The Crow, was successful enough to bring Snipes back in search
for his partner (Kris Kristofferson, who supposedly dies in this first
film) for an even more mindless sequel in 2002. The topic was an odd one
to represent the earnest, serious transition of a Marvel comic character
to the big screen, as all the more famous names were still yet to
receive their big screen glory. Being British director Stephen
Norrington's first American film,
Blade was also a first of sorts
for composer Mark Isham, whose career was highlighted at the time by
scenic dramas and classy urban jazz rather than trashy horror flicks. He
had dabbled in some marginal horror and science fiction in the 1990's,
however, and he approached this project with appreciation for the
opportunity to tackle a superhero score with that style of dread. For
Blade, Isham dropped all of the sensibilities that had defined
his work in the mainstream, for the film would replace Isham's usual
delicacies heard with great popularity in the likes of
Fly Away
Home and
A River Runs Through It with grungy tones for
imagery of considerable property damage and nasty deaths. While many
people may classify it as a standard horror and action film only,
Blade also owes much to the vampire subgenre, opening realms in
which Isham could explore the romantic and supernatural allure of the
concept, including the deeply troubled minds of the title character, his
twisted family, and his opponents. Isham's choice for the identity of
the score, however, was instead one of total atmosphere and minimal
extroversion or description, struggling to define any kind of lasting
personality beyond its minimal sufficiency.
There is very little gothic romanticism whatsoever to
float the troubled emotional heart of the characters in the composer's
approach to
Blade. Nor, interestingly, is there much in the way
of rhythmically satisfying action. Instead, you hear a highly textured,
mood-driven score, treating the film much like the story treats its
location; you can never really get a grasp on either. The vagueness of
the music, therefore, does little more than establish the basic mood for
the concept and then continue with that gloomy affair for the entirety
of the film's length. The most interesting moments of the score are
provided by an interpretation of "Rainbow Voice" from "Hearing Solar
Winds," written and performed by David Hykes, a piece that produces the
only distinctively emotional, constructive cue with the help of a
moderately sized orchestral string section. Thematically, Isham fails to
impress in his original material, a motif for the protagonists in
"Daywalker" and "History" not striving for any real warmth whatsoever
though developing some empathy in "Death of Whistler." (The sampled
whistling in "History" for Kristofferson's character is a bit of a joke
involving that character's name.) The most cohesive idea running
throughout the second half of the work is a "Blood God" theme for the
shenanigans of the villains that is previewed in "Glyphs" but reveals
itself fully in "The Translation Completed" and "The Book of Erebus."
This moderately interesting idea gains some strength throughout "Temple
of Light" but dissolves in "Blood Relations," leaving only glimpses of
orchestral force in the powerful "The Wraiths Emerge," "Defrosted," and
disjointed "The Blood God" as a highlight. Don't expect any of this
music to rival Christopher Young's prowess in the genre, however. Any
vaguely melodic, tonal highlights are fleeting at best, often exiting
the stage just as quickly as they enter. The remainder of the score,
consisting of Isham's rather glum atmospherics, is presented through
electronic soundscapes, with vast, wandering phrases of disharmony
taking seemingly aimless steps in any convenient direction. Isham fails
to really address any of the pop genre sensibilities that Snipes'
persona or the topic could have brought to the score. Despite providing
the perfect basic coloration for
Blade conceptually, Isham can't
seem to use those elements tell a narrative of his own, even if all the
building blocks of a successful score are evident here.
The score's very basic electronic bass droning
occasionally shifts at accelerated speeds, but these lengthy cues fail
to stir up adequate emotion to represent the story's action. The
composer does offer some varied accompanying instrumentation that uses
sonic colors to save a few cues in
Blade. A rare acoustic rhythm,
ranging from the barely noticeable to the more forceful metal variety,
arises in two or three cues, but never does it last long enough to fully
situate the score in an urban setting. Possibly synthesized
representations of metallic clanging sometimes battle with each other,
echoing the sounds of a sword or knife fight on screen, the latter half
of "Intruder" showing promise. The tones themselves aren't highly
original, but their use in a film heavy on the emphasis on metallic
props and gray scenery is a welcome diversion from the gloom of the
low-intensity electronic droning. The eerie inclusion of a choir is not
in typical fashion; the group often performs with the same striking
disregard for harmony and direction as the electronics of the
underscore, with several branches of the choir conflicting with each
other at high pitches. This effect is original in its texture,
especially in the lengthy "Bleeding Stone" cue, but it's extremely
difficult to tolerate on album. In that cue, as well as "The Wraiths
Emerge" and "Blood God," Isham utilizes the repressed presence of a
fuller orchestra (with a pipe organ for much needed depth) to offer
much-overdue excitement in between his continued electronic meanderings.
Those cues for the villains' material do finally allow some emotional
reach into the troubled story, cranking up the presence of the music and
establishing badly missing momentum for
Blade, and the use of the
Daywalker and villain themes in "It's Not Over" is commendable to set up
the sequel film. But the mood of these cues dissipates too quickly to
sustain any final, fleeting interest, leaving the overall listening
experience as one of little notice or importance. On both the 34-minute
1998 album from Varèse Sarabande and the label's 72-minute
expansion in 2024, the score tends to fill space more than anything
else, the longer presentation simply extending the challenging
experience without adding significant accessible music. The climax
continues to impress at brief moments, but the shorter album suffices
for these cues. While the score was a worthy genre to test for Isham, it
wasn't one that allowed him to capture the spirit of either the vampires
or wicked combat, and rising horror master Marco Beltrami would supply a
more popular score for
Blade II several years later.
** @Amazon.com: CD or
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Bias Check: |
For Mark Isham reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 2.84
(in 26 reviews) and the average viewer rating is 2.87
(in 9,473 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
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The insert of the 1998 Varèse album includes no extra
information about the score or film. That of the 2024 expansion from the
same label contains details about both.