: (Wojciech Kilar) If the
cinematography, art direction, and costumes are good enough, then the
rest of the production (as well as the title character) can be damned.
That's what Francis Ford Coppola faced when putting his lavish spin on
the famed vampire from Transylvania in his 1992 epic,
. A cast with a few veterans who could chew on the material
with appropriate melodramatic zeal and a handful of young heartthrobs
looking pretty in their turn of the century garb was largely
overshadowed by the immensely gothic production values. It was a film to
be seen and heard rather than contemplated for its extension of the
Dracula myth (some of which, especially in the real estate investment
aspect of things, didn't make much sense), and it was boosted by a
monumental advertisement campaign and a significant amount of hoopla in
the press. Despite its mesmerizing qualities, Coppola's film ironically
lacked a convincing soul, playing out like an overacted stage production
on the best cinematic steroids of the day. Another aspect of the
production experiencing no limits in the melodrama category was the
appropriately massive score by Polish composer Wojciech Kilar, whose
career had not yet made a significant splash in America. His score was
somewhat surprisingly absent from the nominations of any major awarding
group; the film's design elements received significant praise from both
the BAFTA and Academy Award voting bodies, winning three Oscars. Perhaps
it was a lack of name recognition that restricted Kilar's chances at the
time (though he never fared particularly well with international awards
until 2002's
is a particularly memorable aspect of the production. All of
the over the top values assigned to the other appeals of the film are
evident in this score, from the swells of morbidly romantic orchestral
melody to the pounding choral passages of urgent and mighty
terror.
To be expected from Kilar is, beyond the basic
ingredients of a large, gothic score, a lushly brooding sense of Eastern
European sensibility, a distinctive touch so remarkably appropriate for
Bram Stoker's Dracula that this sound alone is likely a solid
reason why Kilar received the high profile assignment. In the few major,
internationally distributed feature film scores of his career, this one
remains perhaps Kilar's most famous, even if it is not his best.
Ultimately, most of what you hear in
Bram Stoker's Dracula would
be explored by the composer with more sincerity in forthcoming projects.
The tone and style of Kilar's music is an interesting cross between his
later scores for
The Ninth Gate and
The Portrait of a Lady
(both impressive in their own ways), as well as a foreshadowing of the
epic, resoundingly deep ensemble rhythms that Howard Shore would employ
liberally in his music for
The Lord of the Rings (additionally,
all you would need to do is emphasize the low woodwinds a bit more in a
few of the Kilar cues here and this material could have eerily matched
parts of Shore's classic works in orchestration and tone). There exist
three major themes and one minor one in
Bram Stoker's Dracula,
all of which conveniently reprised in the concert suite format Kilar
compiled for the end credits. The primary identity for the film
represents Dracula and his vicious brides, introduced early and with
understandably great sorrow in "Dracula - The Beginning" and stirring up
more menacing trouble in "The Brides." This deep string theme is that
which is most saturated with Eastern European mannerisms, and while it
is sufficient in tone, its lack of frequency or development later in the
score (until it bookends "End Credits") weakens it considerably. The
only exception comes when Kilar uses the theme as both an interlude and
counterpoint within his love theme, heard first in "Love Remembered" but
really taking off in "Mina/Dracula" and "Love Eternal." When performed
by only woodwinds, this doomed melody has a John Barry quality of
overwrought romanticism, though its bass string performances, as in the
latter cue, give it a greater amount of gravity.
The propulsive theme for Anthony Hopkins' Van Helsing
(and associates) is impressive but perhaps this score's greatest
misstep. Expressed with unyielding bombast in "Vampire Hunters," "The
Hunt Builds," and "The Hunters Prelude," it's not hard to mistaken this
theme as the primary one for the film, especially given its prominent
placement in the final mix. A forceful percussive rhythm pounds
underneath a series of eight note phrases that aren't really heroic or
powerful enough to set the right tone for Van Helsing's activities. In
these cues, Kilar gains momentum in the deepest piano and brass ranges
in rolling rhythmic structures that might remind of Carl Orff, and in
"Dracula - The Beginning" and "The Storm," he builds snare-tapped
rhythms that employ fiendishly evil choral chanting and random vocalized
outbursts. The use of voices in a variety ways, from whispering to
glorious chants, is a precursor to the concluding moments of
The
Ninth Gate. The use of outright shouting and random vocal effects in
"The Ring of Fire," punctuating an attack on a horse by the brides, is
interesting but totally unlistenable. Occasional soprano female vocals
are lovely in a creepy sense and all too short, though the use of solo
voice to foreshadow the love theme in "Mina's Photo" is a highlight. A
couple of rather unique portions of the score contribute to its lack of
strong continuity, led by a somewhat dreamy light percussion theme for
Lucy, an idea that nearly ruins the "End Credits" after its lengthy
exploration in "Lucy's Party." The other interesting abnormality in the
score comes at the end; in the closing seconds of "Love Eternal" and the
entirety of the short "Ascension," an ethereal quality dominates in high
choral tones and rare, pure harmony. When you put these cues together
with the three major themes, there is friction between the interactions
and a general disconnect in the flow of the score. The "End Credits"
arrangement perfectly encapsulates this point, each sequence within its
seven minutes having at least some merit but all together failing to
produce a coherent whole. A heavy emphasis on the bass region
(reinforced by the mix) also contributes to a restricted soundscape. The
unrelated Annie Lennox song at the end of the album is stunningly
misplaced. There is much to impress in Kilar's
Bram Stoker's
Dracula, but it's a score that will leave you wanting something more
every time you listen to it on album.
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