: (Bernard Herrmann/Elmer Bernstein) With
his first film after signing a major contract with Universal Studios and
Steven Spielberg's Amblin Entertainment, director Martin Scorsese
decided to remake the classic 1962 horror movie
. In the
original, Gregory Peck was a lawyer and heroic father figure and Robert
Mitchum was a criminal who had served time because of what he believed
to be a bad defense by Peck. The criminal is released from prison and
decides to exact his revenge on the lawyer through intimidation and
violence. The ensuing battle of nerves and wit between the Hollywood
icons made for a classic film of good versus evil. But in Scorsese's
darker outlook on life, there can't be any true hero, and in his 1991
remake, everyone from the lawyer to his wife and 16-year-old daughter
has demons with which to work. It's more difficult to root for Nick
Nolte in the Peck role, and Robert De Niro is far more psychotic than
Mitchum ever was as the criminal. What Scorsese had going in his favor
was a $35 million budget, cameo roles by both Mitchum and Peck
(ironically on opposite sides of their original allegiances), and access
to the original 1962 score by horror legend Bernard Herrmann. The desire
to re-use Herrmann's score in this context is no surprise, with the
composer's last score being for Scorsese's
, not to
mention the memorable success of the music in the original. Scorsese
always remained very proud of that one collaboration with the composer.
Whether or not you can tolerate this usage of Herrmann's music in a
modern setting (whether it is this score or the mindlessly mechanical
remake of
several years later) depends on how awkward it
is to hear that trademark Herrmann horror sound, forever bound to a
certain era in Hollywood, inserted into a much more recent setting.
Since Scorsese would be adapting the story of
along
unfamiliar lines, he required someone to adapt Herrmann's material
fairly extensively, and Elmer Bernstein lobbied for and was proud to do
the job. Bernstein believed that Herrmann's score was actually more
appropriate for the more threatening film that Scorsese had made, a
solid argument though the music helps counter the rather mundane family
life of the protagonists in the first film.
While Bernstein's task for
Cape Fear seems
elementary on the surface, Bernstein needed to choose where he could
move cues to complementary places in the new film, compose cues for new
sequences, and do all of that without harming the integrity of
Herrmann's highly distinct sound. For most of the film, he could track
in the 1962 cues without too much difficulty, writing only about six
minutes of all-new material. But by the time Scorsese totally changed
the violent ending of the movie to serve modern expectations, Bernstein
had to acquire additional inspiration for more ambitiously threatening
material. Rather than use the base of the
Cape Fear score for all
of this sequence, he instead used the rejected score for Herrmann's
Torn Curtain to supply those more forceful moments in three late
cues. Regardless of opinions about whether the music seems out of place
in a 1990's film, there's no doubt that Bernstein successfully
accomplished his task, the loyalty to Herrmann's material and immense
sound quality impossible to ignore. The stereo spread of the score is
appreciably impressive, the French horns of the ensemble recorded
separately and spread across the stereo soundscape to give them more
resounding appeal. Much of Bernstein's success here is due to his
perfect capture of Herrmann's instrumentation, including the obvious use
of pulsating, muted trumpets that were a clear staple of the composer's
music in the genre. Hypnotizing woodwind figures are key to this score's
suspense, and they are also represented well. High violin tones range in
duty from providing mesmerizingly sickly romanticism for the women of
the tale to the stabbing shrieks famous to
Psycho for the
criminal's raping and killing scenes. The tonalities explored in this
work have always been noteworthy, the inherent dissonance applied by
Herrmann constructed in ways that emphasize underlying accessibility
that keeps the tone listenable, almost a nod to optimism during the
journey. Thematically, Herrmann provided several ideas to
Cape
Fear, and Bernstein remains faithful to their purposes. The
monumental, descending four-note brass phrases that comprise the main
"fanfare" of the criminal's theme and represent the film as a whole are
difficult not to notice. The layering of horns and trombones in this
idea is superb, and it's a wonder that professional baseball players
don't use it more frequently as walk-up music for their at-bats.
The main fanfare portion of the criminal's musical
identity is attached to the general suspense theme of the score that
also represents the unyieldingly cyclical, mentally unstable criminal's
stalking habits. Between the harsh brass tones of the fanfare and the
remarkably fluid, wavering strings and woodwinds of the suspense theme
that form a rising sense of unease throughout the score, the criminal's
music is easily distinguishable. The wavering suspense motif follows a
single hit of the orchestra in the opening cue, the alternating woodwind
and string figures reminding of other instances in which Herrmann
addressed the concept of psychosis. Despite the seemingly chaotic fuss
created by the strings in this and other cues, there is a hypnotic
appeal of tonality that ripples through the score in an atmosphere
strikingly appropriate for a lake or ocean setting. This suspense
material is adapted all over the work, as is the fanfare. The latter
idea explodes in full brass form three more times after the opening cue,
the two middle renditions representing the criminal at his most
dangerous as he follows the family. While these performances are always
impressive and beg for opportunities to annoy your roommates and
neighbors, the various adaptations of the idea into softer string shades
in several cues is almost as remarkable. These descending chords, as
well as the ascending responses within the fuller suspense motif, are at
constant battle in the less obvious portions of the work. Herrmann also
constructed a sickening love theme that is arguably the portion more
appropriate for this film than the 1962 original, its whining strings
accompanying most of the scenes involving the lawyer's wife and daughter
as the criminal sexually entices them. The high-pitched whining of this
idea gives it an appropriately demented personality of mysterious
attraction. The other motif at play comes from
Torn Curtain for
the final trio of cues representing the scenes during the boat
confrontation. This driving force of malice may sound a bit out of place
for
Cape Fear, but it's obviously using the same exact vocabulary
from Herrmann and functions well enough to suffice. Hinted in "Storm
Starts," this music explodes with timpani at the start of "The Fight"
and again later in the cue, and it continues its massive murder mode in
the early portions of "Destruction." Whether you think this material is
too incongruent or wonderfully obnoxious, it would have been more
interesting to hear Bernstein actually manipulate the motifs from this
score into a new action purpose.
In the end, unlike many other Herrmann favorites in the
genre,
Cape Fear never allows you to come up for air, constantly
brooding in
Psycho fashion and maintaining an intense sense of
malice regardless of volume. To Bernstein's credit, it's difficult to
differentiate his filler material from the straight adaptations, though
enthusiasts of the original 1962 score will be able to discern the new
transitions, some of which last only seconds. Those purists may reject
Bernstein's version of
Cape Fear merely because of the updated
production quality of the sound, and yet Herrmann's music for this movie
(along with
Vertigo and a few others) is served very well by
crisp, exacting sound quality. The digital mastering in this case, even
though it's from an analog recording, causes this score to better tickle
your nerves and be even more "in your face," as it should be. For years,
the album of Bernstein's 1991 adaptation was the only available
recording for either version of
Cape Fear, as it took a long
while for the 1962 recording to find a legitimate release on album. In
2025, Quartet Records added 14 minutes to the main presentation of
Bernstein's adaptation and tossed another five minutes of noteworthy and
enjoyable alternate takes onto the end, also appending the original
album assembly as a second CD to comprise a limited set. In the
alternate cues, "Parade (Alternate)" opens with clearly original
Bernstein material akin to
Ghostbusters suspense before the
criminal's fanfare blasts in elongated fashion and at a faster tempo,
and the descending brass figures are elongated in this unique
performance. "Danny Meets Cady (Alternate)" better connects the prior
rape scene's music with this moment, with outstandingly sinister
renditions of the main theme on trumpets. More propulsive compared to
the final cue is "Thugs (Alternate)," and the film versions of the
opening and closing of "The Fight" nicely complete the first disc. The
score fully supports this longer presentation, and the limited set
better illuminates the extent to which Bernstein managed the
adaptations. The sound quality continues to be the main selling point
for this remake, the care taken with the spread of especially the brass
section an enduring highlight. There are portions of this recording that
could make your dog run into the bathroom and hide its head under the
toilet. As such, either of the two available products for the 1991 score
will do this music far more justice than the original 1962 recording,
because Bernstein helped this music transcend the limitations of its era
to truly come to life. Good luck getting that main theme out of your
memory.
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