| CLOSE WINDOW |
|
FILMTRACKS.COM
PRINTER-FRIENDLY VIEW 
Review of Con Air (Mark Mancina/Trevor Rabin)
FILMTRACKS RECOMMENDS:
Buy it... only if you are an extremely hardcore collector of Media
Ventures scores and are prepared for the electronic mayhem on display
here.
Avoid it... if you expect any minimal level of intelligence in your blockbuster action scores.
FILMTRACKS EDITORIAL REVIEW:
Con Air: (Mark Mancina/Trevor Rabin) Directed by
first-timer Simon West, a veteran of British music videos, Con
Air served as evidence in the mid-1990's that the concept of the
"American blockbuster" was indeed truly dumbed down for the masses. It
was yet another film in a progression of Jerry Bruckheimer projects that
attempted to prove that Hollywood could make money on pyrotechnic
exhibitions without the need for any serious character development or
other redeeming intellectual quality. The problem with Con Air is
that the film squandered its only assets; a typecast group of actors is
led by a positively bored Nicolas Cage into a series of explosions and
other special effects that were as poorly shot as they were improbable.
In fact, the film's greatest weakness is its extremely poor direction
and shooting. It goes through the motions without distinctive flair,
without decent wisecracks from the script, and without anybody really
believing for a moment that protagonist is actually in any danger.
Definitely part of the problem was a formulaic score by Media Ventures
junkies and former rock band members Mark Mancina and Trevor Rabin.
After The Rock made such collaborations acceptable in 1996, Rabin
in particular would partner up with other Hans Zimmer pupils for several
pictures to come. His output has never strayed far towards the
intellectual end of the scale, though co-composer Mark Mancina has had a
more varied career. By Con Air, Mancina had already been involved
with Speed and Twister, and had shown the ability to
capably merge organic and synthetic elements.
Any semblance of that intelligence went out the window for Con Air, a score that imitates the harshest moments of The Rock and extends them to the limits of frenetic distortion and testosterone-heightened enthusiasm. In the wide range of Media Ventures spin-off scores from 1996-2006, Con Air remains the most violent and unorganized. Obviously, you're going to know ahead of time whether this genre of music suits your listening needs; pity the average John Berry collector who accidentally purchases this score. Still, even considered within the range of Rabin, Mancina, and other former Media Ventures artists, Con Air is a wretched piece of work. For even some steroid-injecting collectors of this genre, Con Air is trash (though, come to think of it, the score would be oddly appropriate to enjoy in the bathroom while you're injecting your buddy in the butt with steroids and suffering subsequent 'roid rage episodes), and there's a distinct reason for it. Even a film as ridiculous as Con Air can be enhanced by its musical score, no matter if it's performed by a couple of rock band members on synths and guitars. But this score reacts to movie rather than adding to it, providing music that is applied as a sound effect. Flashes of the electric guitars react to flashes on the screen, grinding bass rhythms react to action sequences, and cheap synthetic string keyboarding reacts to elements of perceived importance or danger. The score does have a couple of themes, mostly used to allow the electric guitar to wail away in the score's latter half. A four-note motif yields to a fully harmonic theme, heroic in a grim sort of way, and typical in its overly simplistic construct. You can hear the guitar in all of its glory in "Battle in the Boneyard" and "Fire Truck Chase," both of which are nearly intolerable cues. The performances are mixed in such a manner to maximize the gain level of each synthetic instrument, causing the score to hit you in the face like a brick. There is no finesse to be heard in the mixing of the limited synthetic ensemble, even in the score's lighter moments. Token romance is inserted in "Trisha," "Poe Meets Larkin," and in the latter half of the closing "Overture" (the placement of which seems to defy logic, no?), by scaling back the guitar to almost acoustic levels, but these sequences aren't half as genuinely sensitive as those in The Rock. The tendency of these scores to attempt to create an "anthem" at their heart is not lost in Con Air, but any interest that usual Media Ventures collectors will be looking for will be met with an intentionally abrasive mixing that sucks all the nobility out of such performances. The overall impression that Con Air leaves you with is nebulous, with a faint headache caused by the opening cue only contributed to by the score's reckless and endless progression of electronic mayhem. Some guys seem to get off on this kind of trash, and bless these people. But for the rest of the populous, the opening cue is the best representative of Con Air: its intentionally grinding distortions immediately cause you to check to ensure that your stereo system isn't suffering from a malfunction. Contributing to the all-around stupidity of this film is the situation with its song; nominated for an Oscar was "How Can I Live," a song that didn't appear on the one and only soundtrack album available upon the release of Con Air (the one here with only score). In the age of blatant commercialism, this head-scratcher just adds more suspicion as to the competence of those involved with the project. In the end, Con Air's score is astonishingly juvenile, and represents the ultimate low point in its genre during the 1990's. *
TRACK LISTINGS:
Total Time: 44:57
NOTES & QUOTES:
The insert includes no extra information about the score or film.
Copyright ©
1997-2024, Filmtracks Publications. All rights reserved.
The reviews and other textual content contained on the filmtracks.com site may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without the prior written authority of Christian Clemmensen at Filmtracks Publications. All artwork and sound clips from Con Air are Copyright © 1997, Hollywood Records and cannot be redistributed without the label's expressed written consent. Page created 7/19/97 and last updated 6/17/06. |
