: (Carter Burwell) Movies about
idiots are the specialty of Joel Coen and Ethan Coen, each of their
projects existing in an alternate universe where absolutely everyone on
screen seems to be dumber or less pragmatic than, believe it or not, the
population actually is. Once again,
gives
viewers an accomplished cast (of Coen regulars, for the most part)
forced to play fools in convoluted romantic and espionage dealings that
are beyond all common sense, maintaining the black comedy environment of
awkward interactions and gruesome deaths typical to the Coens' world.
Their plot for the 2008 movie essentially takes high stakes government
espionage and reduces it to a farce, telling of a CIA agent who quits
rather be demoted and then suffers through a divorce and the theft of
his unfinished memoirs by fitness center morons who in turn mistaken it
for the kind of material worth selling to Russian agents. The messy love
triangles and totally senseless actions of practically every character
are doused in the stink of the Coen Brothers' usual lack of logic,
meaning that the film will appeal to their dedicated fanbases but have
limited success with viewers seeking a story that holds any sensible
value. Greeted with a limited number of awards nominations and mixed to
positive reviews,
did surprisingly well in the
worldwide box office, grossing more than four times its budget. Among
the usual Coen crew members contributing to the appeal of the movie is
composer Carter Burwell, whose involvement with
represented the 12th collaboration with the filmmakers. His
distinctive style of darkly elusive music, defined by his somber
melodies and trademark use of disjointed chords and unnatural meters,
has come to musically shape the sound of many of the Coen Brothers'
films, though while those techniques are heard as expected in
, the intent with this particular score was to take the
tone of Burwell's sound even more primal and challenging than
before.
Since the ridiculously shallow characters in
Burn
After Reading clearly think they're part of a conspiracy much bigger
than they really are, the decision was to make the music sound
artificially inflated. Joel Coen stated at the time that they requested
a score that was "something big and bombastic, something important
sounding but absolutely meaningless." To that end, Burwell succeeds in
writing music with a detached personality that develops much more
gravity than really necessary in this circumstance (a plus from a parody
standpoint), but he also surprisingly infuses some tender lyricism into
the mix for the romantic aspect. Together, you get a mutated noir score
that is as paranoid as any in its era. There was an idea shared by
Burwell and the Coen Brothers early in the production of
Burn After
Reading to employ an extremely aggressive and sparse array of
percussion to represent the governmental aspect of the story. This
choice is flesh out in the form of insistent Taiko drum performances
that rip almost unimpeded and alone in the mix for several major cues.
Behind them at times is a snarling collection of synthetic and low
orchestral sounds, the former including grinding metallic samples and
electric guitars. The brutality of "Plan B" combines the drums with both
these synthetic annoyances, adding cymbals and rattling gongs with
dramatic effect. The brooding orchestral tones are normal for Burwell,
using cellos, deep piano phrases, and groaning bass woodwind
performances to set a suspenseful ambience for nearly every cue. Low
brass in "Homeless" and other cues expands the scope even further. The
score is quite rich thematically, though with the environment dominating
the soundscape, don't expect any particular melody to define the film.
Several recurring themes are developed substantially, most of them
adhering to Burwell's rhythmic sense of gloom. A rolling string rhythm
of domineering stature follows the government's shady intentions, using
Philip Glass-like phrases of repetition in "A Higher Patriotism," "Night
Running," "Plan B," "Seating," "Who Do You Work For?" This theme is
translated into a Thomas Newman marimba setting later in the score, as a
secondary motif spins off from this identity in "Building the Chair,"
"Breaking and Entering," and "I Killed a Spook."
The most clearly memorable and important theme in
Burn After Reading is the one for domestic affairs (and humanity,
if such a concept can exist in this context). A meandering piano melody
with the score's only sense of higher style, this theme evolves through
"Linda Looks For Love (Part 1)," "Rendezvous," "Opportunity," "Honey Nut
Cheerios," "How is This Possible?," "Negativity," and "The Struggle for
Ebullience." Its crescendo in "How is This Possible?" is immense and has
a slight Latin influence (perhaps a nod to the Venezuela aspect of the
story), its punctuation with the Taiko drums and chimes at the end
producing the score's moment engaging moment. That theme's secondary
phrases are among Burwell's prettier ideas in a while, heard first on
woodwinds almost exclusively at the end of "Linda Looks For Love (Part
1)" and figuring heavily in the aforementioned Latin hints of "How is
This Possible?" A few smaller motifs tie the rest of
Burn After
Reading together, led by a rising dissonant tone for ensemble and
electronics that denotes moments of death and fright. Heard at the ends
of "Earth Zoom (In)," "Breaking and Entering," and "Carrots/Shot," this
idea (which unfortunately doesn't descend as one would expect in "Earth
Zoom (Out)") is obnoxiously inelegant. A singular cue of note in
Burn
After Reading is "Night Running," opening with the distinctive Glass
emulation, transitioning to the Taiko suspense motif with uneasy
electric guitar and sample backing, and then closing with a creepy,
distant, source-like choral performance of the "Old Nassau" anthem for
Princeton University. Overall,
Burn After Reading functions as
the unsettling, self-absorbed, and deadly serious treatment of the topic
sought by the filmmakers. If you find Burwell's often off-kilter
trademarks appealing to your senses, you'll probably embrace it as an
engrossing experience. But for the rest of the population, it translates
into an extremely arduous 36-minute score album with little redemptive
personality. There are moments of impressive harmonic resonance in both
of the two main themes (and especially in "A Higher Patriotism," with
some attractive brass counterpoint in its latter half), but none of
these presentations really lasts long enough to make the score a
candidate from which to take a truly accessible compilation of ideas.
Approach with caution.
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| Bias Check: |
For Carter Burwell reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 2.84
(in 19 reviews)
and the average viewer rating is 2.82
(in 11,704 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
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