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| Silvestri |
The Electric State: (Alan Silvestri) Despite the
fact that its directing duo, Anthony and Joe Russo, created two films in
the Marvel Cinematic Universe that each grossed over $2 billion, their
next major venture,
The Electric State, was an absolute financial
disaster. Reportedly costing $320 million, the 2025 movie adapted a
popular 2018 graphic novel and did so extremely poorly, irritating
concept enthusiasts and opening the door for critical lashing that
identified the screenplay and wasted budget as travesties. At its heart,
the tale is one of familial reunion and the redemption of artificial
life forms. In an alternate version of the 1990's, an evil American
business oligarch (in other words, Elon Musk) creates a way for a human
consciousness and memories to be transferred into robots after those
machines had turned on the humans to nobody's surprise. After the
human/robot combinations defeat the lesser, violent mechanisms, people
become vegetables while letting their droids do all the work. Robots,
meanwhile are banished to the parts of America that Hollywood thinks
nobody wants to reside in anyway. A girl who has lost her family
realizes that her brilliant younger brother might still be alive and
involved somehow in the merging technology when a robot seemingly with
his characteristics seeks her out. There's a vigilante, evil overlord,
robot battles, emotional goodbyes, and everything else that a Hollywood
script seemingly must convey. But none of it seemed to work for most
audiences, yielding a disaster for Netflix. On the upside, the project
gave film music collectors another large-scale score from veteran
composer Alan Silvestri, who had supplanted Henry Jackman to collaborate
with the Russos on their two most major Marvel successes in the late
2010's. In its retro science-fiction musings,
The Electric State
is also fairly similar to
Ready Player One, another failed film
for which Silvestri wrote ambitious music reminiscent of his prime.
Silvestri had worked exclusively with director Robert Zemeckis on only
three scores in the early 2020's, fueling speculation that he was
coasting into retirement, so his return for this assignment, among
others in his schedule to follow, was highly anticipated.
Listeners who harbor continued nostalgia for Silvestri's
1980's and 1990's style will find pleasure in the absolutely saturated
nature with which the composer approaches
The Electric State.
It's a Silvestri score from start to finish, reminding of everything
from
Predator to
The Witches and
Here in its
instrumentation, chord progressions, and other mannerisms. Hearing the
composer in this mode once again resurrects similar appreciation as
Ready Player One, though the end result is not quite as spirited.
And that's this score's downfall; despite sounding very much like an
impressive Silvestri work, it has almost no spark of life or sense of
passion anywhere in its ranks. It sounds almost as though the composer
(or an artificial intelligence) wrote this music on autopilot. The basic
ingredients are all in place, though. He stays faithfully symphonic,
with sparing accents from acoustic guitar and choir at times. There are
some short interludes for guitar, harmonica, and fiddle in "The Dr. With
the Glasses" for unique Western flavor for America's Southwest. Also in
the mix are electronic elements, as at the start of "We're Always
Connected," which clearly remind of
The Witches. But the presence
of the synthetics is underutilized generally throughout the score,
Silvestri declining to run with them for the robotic and other
futuristic aspects of the story and instead opting to concentrate on the
orchestra for the organic relationships. The score offers surprisingly
little action, but it's trademark Silvestri when it happens in "It's
Time to Zoom," late in "Not Some Spring Break Hot Spot," during most of
"He's Marked for Deactivation," and with his famous double-note slapping
in "Poor Taco." There's almost an equal amount of outright dissonance
and horror of extremely unpleasant force, as heard near the end of "Do
You Feel the Air on Your Face," at the start of "Kid Cosmo Arrives," and
late in both "What's the Call Pops" and "The Butcher of Schenectady."
Many listeners may find that the most major fault with Silvestri's
strategy lies in the poor enunciation of his themes, his protagonist
identities bleeding together to form an adequate presence in the moment
but absolutely no memorable identity overall. Generally, this score may
generate a shrug from listeners who never warmed up to
Ready Player
One for the same reasons.
While proficient at the task of punctuating the emotions
required by each scene,
The Electric State suffers from one of
the least satisfying narrative flows of any Silvestri score. There's no
punch to any of his ideas for the story, and the final set of cues is
especially dissatisfying in their inability to provide a payoff for the
muddy thematic attributions prior. Both the pivotal scenes comprising
the cues "It's Coming From Me" and "We're Running Out of Time" represent
massive wasted opportunities for thematic drama at the tale's emotional
conclusion, Silvestri playing his hand too light and not expressing any
obvious closure for his character themes in these moments. Nothing at
the end of this score is satisfying whatsoever, and the style may not be
impressive enough alone to carry the day. His theme for the brother,
Christopher, doubles for the fantasy concept of the "Neurocaster"
technology that connects people with machines. A separate, two-part
identity for his sister, Michelle, follows her journey and connects the
two as a representation of the siblings. The most common theme is one
for suffering and despair that eventually earns some triumphant stripes
on the behalf of the friendly robots and people persecuted by the evil
of society. Finally, there's a pair of themes, one for Stanley Tucci's
corporate bad guy and another for his enforcer drones. There are some
connections between these ideas, particularly the one for Christopher
(and the Neurocaster technology) and the evil drones as appropriate.
That identity for Christopher and his capabilities is the main core of
the score's first two thirds. It opens and ends with hopeful, ascending,
three-note phrases as heard at 0:12 into "We're Always Connected?" on
synthetic celeste, much like
The Witches. After recurring on
faint strings at 3:53 into "The Year the World Changed," this theme
receives more detailed exploration at 0:55 into "Do You Feel the Air on
Your Face" and continues through the end of the cue, eventually fusing
with the action of "It's Time to Zoom." This main theme is slight early
in "The Dr. With the Glasses," continuing against the cue's Western mode
later, and is barely conveyed at 0:34 into "Scavenger Bots." It melds
with the Western elements again for some life at end of "Nothing but Oil
Stains and Screws," becomes very slight with fear at the outset of
"What's the Call Pops," plods on piano early in "Consequences," and
emerges from the action in "Poor Taco," where it adopts a lighter form
of the evil drones' identity.
Sadly, the main theme for
The Electric State
disappears from score for no good reason in the finale, including the
moments when the boy's consciousness is revealed to have possibly lived
on. For these moments, Silvestri turns to the two-part theme for the
sister. This sibling representation's first part contains an opening
four note phrase that flourishes in its second line, heard on piano,
strings, and woodwinds at 1:04 into "We're Always Connected." It returns
in the latter half of "Kid Cosmo Movie Night" with kindness while
fragmented early in "You're Not Alone" and reminding of its duty at 0:09
into "We Live" on flute over a high string wash. The secondary part of
the theme is even more tender and meandering, with some chord shifts
that remind of
Here in its own extended phrasing. Debuting on
solo piano at 1:58 into "We're Always Connected," this melody
intertwines with the main brother theme early in "The Dr. With the
Glasses." It's tender but frail on piano in the middle of "We're Running
Out of Time," building to a large, choral fantasy statement mostly with
only its underlying chords. Like the primary phrasing, this idea guides
the middle of "We Live" with more gravity. More impactful, though, is
the defiance and suffering theme for the friendly robots and group of
humans at the center of the tale. A lightly heroic identity rising from
key, this theme is very malleable throughout the score. It opens "The
Year the World Changed" on strings and returns in cue's middle,
informing a brief action fanfare and trumpet solo later. The theme
starts "Do You Feel the Air on Your Face" in aspirational mode, becomes
very faint in the latter half of "Kid Cosmo Arrives," and stews at the
start of "It's Time to Zoom" and almost prevails at the cue's end. The
theme opens "He's Marked for Deactivation" in reserved tones, is slight
in the first half minute of "Scavenger Bots" before gaining more
strength at 1:45, and toils vaguely in the middle of "See Where the Day
Takes Us" before one statement at the end of the cue. It takes a more
patriotic turn for Mr. Peanut and associated robots in "The Cradle of a
New Mechanized Civilization," making a sensitive and pretty shift in the
moment's latter half. This defiance theme offers very soft ambience
during "Kid Cosmo Movie Night" and becomes a rhythmic device on harp
early in "Nothing but Oil Stains and Screws," gaining moment for another
patriotic moment in the middle of the cue. The cyclical, rhythmic
formation for the defiance theme is a frequent application by Silvestri
in the open rebellion portions, this mode returning with worry in
"What's the Call Pops."
The defiance theme transforms into a sinister violin
bit in "The Butcher of Schenectady," then emerging with force in the
middle of "Consequences" with striking variations later. It provides
some minor agony in the atmosphere of "You're Not Alone" and strikes a
pose early in "Here's Johnny" before returning to its harp cycles,
taking some melodramatic stabs in the middle against the villain
material. Darkly postured early in "Poor Taco" before factoring
repeatedly in the cue's action highlights, this inspired theme enjoys a
choral outburst at 2:04 as a highlight, followed by an almost sad
version at 3:00 for ensemble lament. The theme is restrained in minor
heroism near the beginning of "God Bless America" and tries a more
optimistic snare presence later but never takes hold. It's tired but
nicely carried by strings in "The Day is Ours." For the villains, there
is an idea for the main baddie, Skate, and his Sentre operations,
offering descending menace like the witch motif in
The Witches
with a touch of
Predator gravity. Heard at 0:43 into "The Year
the World Changed" and late in "Not Some Spring Break Hot Spot" for a
few reminders, this idea haunts "See Where the Day Takes Us" in various
descending guises and enjoys a moment of despair early in "The Cradle of
a New Mechanized Civilization." It explodes against the defiance theme
in "Here's Johnny," especially at 1:41, and sprinkles its descending
lines into the middle of "Poor Taco" on brass. The evil drones theme
consists of three note blurts from and/or to key in an intentional
twisting of the main theme. It factors at 1:05 and 1:43 into "The Year
the World Changed," supplies a reminder of menace at 2:44 into "It's
Time to Zoom," and teases in the middle of "Power Save Mode." It later
torments "Not Some Spring Break Hot Spot" and at 0:27 into "He's Marked
for Deactivation" before issuing a martial statement early in "Poor
Taco," finally becoming the brother's piano melody at 2:43. There's a
secondary motif of sorts for the Keats and Herman characters, a muted
Western influence without much memorable melodic structure and not well
utilized. It occurs at 0:38 into "Power Save Mode," continues in the
middle of "Not Some Spring Break Hot Spot" in equally sparse tones, and
offers a brief reminder at 2:23 into "Nothing but Oil Stains and Screws"
and faint reference in the middle of "God Bless America." In the end,
none of these themes will remain memorable for a casual listener, and
because the narrative doesn't clarify their purposes,
The Electric
State will be disappointing for some collectors. The long, 79-minute
album could bore despite its pleasant drama and decent action. This
story badly needed a more dramatic heart from the composer, but it's
still vintage Silvestri in style and rarely offends, thus barely earning
a fourth star.
**** @Amazon.com: CD or
Download
| Bias Check: |
For Alan Silvestri reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 3.46
(in 41 reviews)
and the average viewer rating is 3.33
(in 39,965 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
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