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| Zimmer |
The Da Vinci Code: (Hans Zimmer) Oh pious Vatican
and thy minions of religious dupery, why art thou so dumb? One would
think that after centuries of repelling attacks from evil non-believers,
the Vatican would have learned by now that announcing a boycott on a
book or a film simply blesses the target with free publicity and even
greater riches. But right on cue, the word has come from the highest
echelons of the center of Christian holiness that the new film
adaptation of Dan Brown's extraordinarily popular novel
The Da Vinci
Code is not quite as holy as desired. In fact, it's downright
blasphemous, and why not? Brown's interpretation of religious history
takes speculation about Jesus contrary to Christian conversion tactics
of the past 1,700 years and arranges those challenging ideas into a fine
murder mystery. Brown succeeded in conveying the intricate complexities
of religious theory and history to the masses by disguising it as a
phenomenally engaging chase story, and Ron Howard's much anticipated
film version of the story is expected to win enormous earnings at the
box office and stand well-positioned during the next awards season.
Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of the book is Brown's ability to
weave so many complexities of religious history into the story while
making the "gotcha" parts accessible to almost any reader. Many novels
spin a web of such layers and hope that the reader can decipher half of
them by the end. Whether or not your faith can stomach the proposals in
The Da Vinci Code depends on how open-minded you are, but even
the most vocal critics of the facts (or pseudo-facts) in the story can
recognize Brown's masterful ingenuity in arranging them in brilliant
fashion. So brilliant, not coincidentally, that he won in a court of law
when sued by rival authors over the underlying premise of the history in
the tale. Composing the music for Howard's 2006 film would require an
equal level of intelligence in writing, and Hans Zimmer toiled
considerably with this assignment. After such successful collaborations
with James Horner and Thomas Newman over his acclaimed career, Howard
reached back to his
Backdraft collaborator for this challenge.
For
Backdraft, Zimmer had created an enduring musical identity
for the masculine world of urban firefighting, and few of his scores
have fit their films so well.
By the indications in the credits for the score, it would
seem that Hans Zimmer has tackled
The Da Vinci Code much on his
own, a rarity these days for the composer, though it's likely that one
of the dozen assistants from previous efforts contributed ideas to the
process. The result of his efforts is a score easily recognizable as a
Zimmer effort, employing many of the same classically-inspired, overly
dramatic chord progressions familiar to his previous dramas. His
instrumentation is conservative in its employment as well, utilizing a
symphony seemingly short on brass, but aided by his trademark
synthesizers and a significant choral presence. In an extension on the
melodramatic results heard in his effective
Hannibal score,
Zimmer injects
The Da Vinci Code with a heavy dose of majesty and
power. Especially in the latter half of the score, crescendos of
magnificence rarely heard in Zimmer's career rattle the walls with
harmonic resonance. The best of these moments of awe should be credited
to the chorus, which exists in both the higher ethereal female ranges
and the deep chanting male depths that resurrect the broad scope of
Crimson Tide. Zimmer's thematic development is subtle at every
turn, never pronouncing its presents in obvious fashion despite Zimmer's
loyalty to it throughout the score. The most enjoyable performances of
theme easily exist at the opening and closing of the album; as a title
theme of sorts, the primary idea is extended with fantastic results in
the discovery cue, "Chevaliers de Sangreal," with Zimmer's concert piece
for
The Da Vinci Code expanding the theme into a churning string,
choir, and synthesizer piece in a performance among the best four
minutes of the composer's career. A secondary theme introduces itself
with weighty string performances in "Fructus Gravis" and pours on the
religious chord progressions without hesitation in that and "Daniel's
9th Cipher," where a solo woodwind is dominated by the same strings. A
third thematic idea is delicately performed in solo piano and music box
tones at the outset of "The Citrine Cross" and in the middle of "Rose of
Arimathea." Whether these themes and motifs represent the different
locations, characters, or the three distinct storylines that eventually
merge that the story's end remains unknown.
There is magic to be heard in Zimmer's score for
The Da
Vinci Code, with individual moments of beauty that make the album
worth every penny. Most of these cues incorporate the choir, with the
ensemble joined by solo female voice (for the concept of the sacred
feminine, let's hope!) with haunting effect in "Poisoned Chalice" and
"Rose of Arimathea." The story has its fair share of majestic moments of
discovery (so
that's where it is... yeah!), and Zimmer responds
with some very simple, but gratifying blasts of male and female voices
in simplistic tonal progressions. He handles the moments of horror
(religious assassinations.... yeah!) or outright suspense (religious
executioners chasing innocent civilians.... yeah!) with either sudden
liturgical explosions from the choir, as heard during the gruesome
discovery in the latter half of "Dies Mercurii I Martius," a droning
crescendo of reverberating bass as in "The Paschal Spiral," or the
frenetic string scherzo in latter half of "Fructus Gravis." An extension
of this wild string piece highlights the action cue "Beneath Alrischa."
One of the more interesting overall aspects of Zimmer's score, however,
is its restrained tempos from start to finish. The composition
progresses very slowly, consistently returning to its respectfully
restrained pacing after each charge of action or suspense. Related to
that curiously deliberate movement is the lack of substantial tension in
the work; for a story with killings, constant chases, and heightened
intellectual passion, Zimmer's work seems oddly directed towards only
the overarching discovery in the story. This quest for religious
enlightenment is nailed for the most part by Zimmer, but the ride he
takes you on for the duration of the album is far less exciting the
story of
The Da Vinci Code itself. But in and of itself, the
music for the film will be a delightful reprise of the bone-chilling
moments from
Hannibal, a score that has significant influence on
individual cues in
The Da Vinci Code. A few minutes into "The
Citrine Cross," a descending choral and string motif introduced in
Hannibal is heard here, but obviously without Anthony Hopkins'
voice-overs. The motif reaches a crescendo in "The Citrine Cross" that
almost resembles a high range distortion of the female voices in the
choir.
As Zimmer typically does these days, however, he leaves
several questions unanswered. One of the more intriguing debates film
score fans could have about
The Da Vinci Code is its tendency to
regurgitate "Zimmerisms" with the same frequency that James Horner
detractors would have debated endlessly had Horner teamed once again
with Howard for this project. Zimmer stays very close to his comfort
zone in
The Da Vinci Code, a project that, more than anything
else recently in his career, begged for an expansion of his horizons.
The instrumentation is predictable, with Zimmer replacing the presence
of brass with his own synthesizers. And while the construct of a cue
such as "Chevaliers de Sangreal" lends itself well to Zimmer's synthetic
string and brass samples, when you combine it with the adult chorus you
hear just too much
Crimson Tide to satisfy you in this entirely
different genre of film. Similarly obvious are the medium-range
churnings of strings both above and below the primary theme that are
saturated with styles from
Batman Begins. Additionally, the
score's overall effect on the listener, even after five or six listens
to the album, will lack enough creativity to sustain any interest
outside of the three or four very strong cues near the end of the score.
A few days after you hear the score several times repeatedly, you likely
won't recall a specific motif in your head (and if you can, then you're
truly a die-hard Zimmer fan). The slow tempo to the score contributes to
this disengagement, as does the predictability of the choral use and the
lackadaisical chord progressions of Zimmer's themes (the title shares
similarities to everyone's favorite, Trevor Jones'
Last of the
Mohicans, not to mention the rhythmic string origins that always
seem to come from the "Elk Hunt" cue from that score). Memorability
seems at a loss.
A disappointment in instrumental creativity also
hinders
The Da Vinci Code, aside from the unfortunate
substitution of synthesizers for brass, as happened in
Gladiator
too (if you hear the City of Prague Philharmonic or other group perform
that score, you'll note how much better a full brass presence
compliments Zimmer's style). The percussion section seems devoid of much
influence on the score either, which is also curious given the section's
capability of setting a stronger pace for a fast-moving story. Drums are
utilized, but the timpani range is often overshadowed by a droning mix
of real or synthetic bass strings that Zimmer often uses to infuse his
work with power. Once again, the "Chevaliers de Sangreal" cue comes to
mind, with the real percussion drowned out by synthetic rhythm samples
and the bass strings. Effective metallic percussion seems completely
lost on Zimmer here, with the one cymbal crash (the only one in the
whole score?) in the cue badly muted, and Zimmer's usual tolling bell
and clanging effects undermixed as well. These elements, when balanced
with the rest of the ensemble, produced fine results in
Crimson
Tide, but are poorly executed here. It should be mentioned that
Zimmer employs a tolling bell in "Rose of Arimathea" as the ending
punctuation to a dramatic cue, and it's easy to wish that Zimmer had
dipped further into that barrel of instrumental creativity elsewhere.
Also necessary to mention is the contribution of composer Richard
Harvey, who not only conducted the score, but also wrote the outstanding
choral piece "Kyrie for the Magdalene" that is heard in the film (on a
side note: given the quality of Harvey's other works, he likely would
have been capable of scoring this entire project brilliantly had he been
given the opportunity). Unfortunately not included in the picture is
Zimmer's enticingly lyrical "Salvete Virgines" choral cue that easily
distinguishes itself from the remainder of the score and solves the low
percussion mix that plagues the full ensemble pieces.
Because the story of
The Da Vinci Code is so
well loved, and opinions on its greatness can often be overblown, Zimmer
has unfortunately set himself up for a rash of criticism along the
"could have" and "should have" lines from listeners. His score suffices
at nearly every turn, flirting on excellence in places, but for what
stories is a sufficient score acceptable? Given the expectations, the
overall effect of his music here is ultimately underwhelming, due in
part to slow development, monotonous sequences, conservative
instrumentation, simplistic themes, and a questionable recording mix.
But if you accept those aspects of the music as parts of Zimmer's
palette to begin with, and you would enjoy a melting pot of motifs,
rhythms, and instrumentation from
Batman Begins,
Hannibal,
The Thin Red Line, and
Crimson Tide, then
The Da Vinci
Code will succeed for you. To say that could be greatly insulting of
Zimmer's talents, but a project like
The Da Vinci Code exposes
the best and worst of composers. It separates the men from the boys. And
even with all his ducks in a row and the wind at his back, Zimmer has
produced a score for
The Da Vinci Code that stands a head above
the boys, but a step below the men. The reason for this tough criticism
once again touches upon the problematic nature of Zimmer's approach to
Batman Begins. He has shown a tendency to adapt poorly to
situations that call for extreme creativity, writing music that pulls
the subject matter closer to his own comfort zone rather than throwing
his talents completely into the realm of the subject matter. Alas, we
get music for the sacred feminine that sounds like
Crimson Tide.
It would be difficult to say if James Horner could have done any better.
But you can't help but imagine what Thomas Newman, John Williams, or
Elliot Goldenthal could have written for
The Da Vinci Code. In a
world of secret messages and endless layers of meaning, Zimmer hasn't
yet proven that he can match such composers in intellectual approaches
to such a genre. His resume doesn't include Newman's
Angels in
America or any of the challenging textural ideas that would have
made Goldenthal such a delicious choice for
The Da Vinci Code.
Luckily, the film's story is so strong that it won't need the score to
support it, and Zimmer's music is, at the very least, inoffensive. On
album, apart from any idea of the film it accompanies, we hear some of
Zimmer's best material in years. Sometimes even the best inspiration can
be misdirected, though, and Zimmer is dangerously close to Vangelis
territory in these regards.
@Amazon.com: CD or
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- Music as Written for Film: ***
- Music as Heard on Album: ****
- Overall: ***
| Bias Check: |
For Hans Zimmer reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 2.84
(in 122 reviews)
and the average viewer rating is 2.95
(in 298,366 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
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The insert includes a note from director Ron Howard about the score.
