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Encanto: (Germaine Franco) Taking the idea of
magical realism to the forests of Colombia, Walt Disney Studios sought
to expand on its regional explorations with 2021's
Encanto after
high praise for
Moana and
Coco. Continuing the trend of
downplaying the traditional roles of princesses and villains, the movie
explores the concept of family through the Latin American lens not too
distantly from
Coco but with more of a music video approach. A
family fleeing regional violence loses its patriarch but gains a magical
power that affords its future members with "gifts," a singular
superhero-like ability distinct to each. They live in a rambling house
that is also the direct product of this magic and has a personality of
its own. The family's dynamics are thrown off when one young girl fails
to receive a gift of special ability, her affable and smart pragmatism
instead serving to help preserve her loved ones in her adulthood. As a
"disabled" character, Maribel is among the studio's better but
intentionally non-spectacular heroines, and when combined with the
Colombian setting and cultural references throughout,
Encanto is
a strikingly unique experience despite a few of the usual, funny animal
scenes. Perhaps because Disney didn't do enough to distinguish
Encanto from
Coco, the 2021 film languished at the box
office, audiences shrugging off highly positive reviews. The soundtrack
of the film is among its more atypical characteristics, Lin-Manuel
Miranda returning from his songwriting role in
Moana to provide
songs that have extremely disparate purposes. Sometimes, they involve
fantasy-like sidebar sequences for specific characters while, at other
times, they are engrained in the actual cast ensemble storytelling of a
scene. In between the songs is an equally Latin-infused score by
Germaine Franco, a female composer of Mexican-American heritage who had
written additional material for the songs in
Coco, along with
duties orchestrating Michael Giacchino's score. Though both the songs
and score utilize significant references to Colombian culture and follow
the very basic foundational mingling that you encounter in any Disney
musical,
Encanto stands apart in its more prominent disconnect
between the two.
Don't be surprised if the audiences for the songs and
score in
Encanto remain distinct. Miranda's song-writing
abilities are certainly stellar, but in this work they offer two
striking characteristics: extraordinarily fast, overlapping, and
sometimes incomprehensible lines of melody and, more problematically,
the spirit of self-contained music video glamour that doesn't allow
those melodies to experience clear reprises or spill over to the score.
The song sequences that take viewers into straight fantasy realms are
distracting from the picture overall, and Miranda reinforces that
displacement. Casual viewers will have difficulty following the lyrics
of the songs at times, with "The Family Madrigal" tasked with
introducing each family member but struggling to actually do so given
its accelerated pacing and incomprehensible melodic structures. The fact
that Miranda's melodies are either too complicated or simply poor is a
serious detriment to the soundtrack as a whole, the beauty of the slow
motion sequence of "Waiting on a Miracle" served well by a gorgeous
interlude sequence in the song but otherwise annoying with the
composer's tendency to repeat phrases in his songs over and over with
the same lyrics. (The three consecutive "open your eyes" in the middle
of this song are extremely irritating, not assisted by Stephanie
Beatriz's rather abrasive voice at that pitch.) The film's first
displacing music video is "Surface Pressure," another incomprehensible
primary melody with fantastic interlude sequence that requires extreme
range from Jessica Darrow as the family's muscle-bound daughter. Perhaps
the catchiest song is "We Don't Talk About Bruno," its rhythms sublime
and instrumentation using a theremin-like synthetic effect for the
creepiness of the uncle's prophetic powers. Again, a stellar interlude
sequence overshadows the rest of the song. The two sisters' song, "What
Else Can I Do?," has perhaps the least comprehensible melody of all, the
lyrics not making clear enough how the two somehow reconcile during the
song. More authentic is the in-film version of "Dos Oruguitas," the
Spanish-language song of lament at the story's darkest moment that best
matches the tone of the score. The pacing and overlapping voices of the
happy ending song, "All of You," mirrors the issues with "The Family
Madrigal," though it does contain a nice in-song reprise of "We Don't
Talk About Bruno."
While minimally sufficient, the Miranda songs in
Encanto are a league below those of
Moana because the
melodies are so wildly frenetic that few viewers will be able to recall
them. Their style is spot-on, the instrumentation perfect for intended
regional influence, but their lyrics are often impossible to understand
and the vocal performances range from appealing to downright obnoxious.
It's a very frustrating miss overall for Miranda, and the lack of strong
song melodies perhaps explains why they didn't end up informing any of
the themes in Franco's score. By comparison to Miranda's songs, the
score's narrative is extremely tight and well-formed. The two halves
utilize enough of the same rhythmic and instrumental aspects of
Colombian culture to allow them to co-exist peacefully in context, but
don't expect any intelligent sharing of phrasing. Franco, aside from her
work on
Coco, was also known for her Latin proficiency in
soundtracks after her overachieving contributions to
Dora and the
Lost City of Gold (alongside industry veteran John Debney) and the
Dia de los Muertos musical, "The Book of Life." When she embarked upon
conceiving of the score for
Encanto, she studied Colombian music
and sought as authentic a sound as possible for the film, consulting
with genre veteran John Powell and maintaining enough of the basic
Disney orchestral magic to suffice for the genre more generally. She was
unable to travel to Colombia, but she recorded some vocalists remotely
and assembled applicable musicians in Los Angeles for the most authentic
sound possible. The results of her efforts are astounding, the mixture
of traditional, regional folk and the symphonic and choral majesty
together providing the film with an absolutely perfect musical ambience.
Her music may be distracted from by the songs, but Miranda's hyperactive
diversions cannot diminish the impact of the score in the narrative's
most powerful scenes. Franco stays away from the Latin pop inclinations
of some of Miranda's songs and instead accesses straight instrumental
performances without obvious electronic embellishments. Many of the same
Colombia-centric tones do span both score and song, and Franco did
provide some orchestral backing to some of the songs. The score's cues
alternate between those almost completely defined by regional
instrumentation and those of Disney's own orchestral traditions.
For her score, Franco accesses all the expected elements
for Colombian music, starting with the mandatory accordions and adding a
gaita (cactus-made flute), an arpa llerna (harp), a marimba de chonta (a
type of marimba only found in Colombia), a tiple (three-stringed
guitar), a tambora bass drum, and a saxophone, along with the dozen
vocalists based in Colombia. Some of the instruments were shipped to Los
Angeles from the country specifically for the score. The composer
assigns these players to particular rhythms that often follow characters
or concepts in the film rather than specific themes. Part of the
Madrigal family is mixed-race, and Franco responds to the son in this
branch of the family with Afro-Colombian rhythms. The rhythmic
assignments don't carry over to the orchestral portions of the score as
much as hoped, and the best solo performances by the Colombian elements
are often kept separate from the symphonic passages, which is a
disappointment. When they do join, the score is magnificent because of
that marriage. But Franco intended for the specialty instruments and
especially the Latin rhythms to carry the work. Some of these cues are
applied like source music in the film, and they function well as such.
The mix of these players is typically very dry at the forefront, and the
orchestral portions follow this lead, to the detriment of the action and
fantasy material. With such lively performances in a magical story, a
wetter ambient sound would have been preferred. Still, the personality
is key, and perhaps the best rhythmic application is the use of tango to
represent the family dysfunction of the tale, as well as mealtime comedy
and the antics of the "perfect" sister, Isabela. This material doesn't
carry a clear, specific motif from cue to cue, but it doesn't need to.
The spirited tango is heard throughout "Breakfast Questions," and quiet
leftovers linger early in "Bruno's Tower," but its fullest version
graces the funny mealtime/proposal fiasco scene of "The Dysfunctional
Tango." Underlying reminders of the tango continue early in "Isabela la
Perfecta" and fights the score's main theme later in that cue. Once the
sisters actually start fighting, the tango returns in full in "Las
Hermanas Pelean," the piano, viola, accordion, and castanets a nice
touch. Reports indicate that a quick parody placement of "Let It Go"
from
Frozen is nestled somewhere in these parts, but it's not
obvious in context.
Only two formal themes occupy the score for
Encanto, and both are clear winners. The primary identity for the
family's house and its magic is often applied to the fuller symphonic
passages, while a theme for Maribel herself is formed by a cumbia
(dance) more frequently performed by accordions and the other Colombian
elements. The main house and magic theme is everywhere in the score,
easily recognizable for phrasing that often conveys optimistically
ascending pairs of notes. Fully flowing strings and chimes introduce the
theme at 1:23 into "Abre Tus Ojos" and turn to the choir over rambling
harp, later giving way to solo oboe in that cue, which ends with a
monumental title card moment for the theme after mingling with
Maribel's. You often find the two identities in polite sonic battle
throughout this and other early cues; a plucked performance of the main
theme takes over from the Maribel theme at 1:44 into "Meet la Familia."
The idea's applications in "I Need You" are excellent, a slight,
fragmented version on piano at 0:14 intentionally nervous and
stuttering. An equally tentative choral performance follows in the
middle of the cue, even more grim shades at 1:42 on piano expressing
Abuela's own nervousness. With relief, the theme explodes into its total
choral majesty at 2:10 as the boy in the scene is revealed his powers.
As Antonio enters his room after receiving his gift, Franco responds
with the snazziest cue in her score, and one that truly dominates the
scene with the fantasy visuals that match those of the Miranda songs.
The main theme carries this cue as well, starting with Afro-Colombian
vocalized variants at 0:40 into "Antonio's Voice." By 1:04, the vocals
start to meld with the orchestral ensemble, building to a fantastic
performance with amazing instrumental and vocal colors. Film music
rarely merges fantasy and exuberance with such infectious zeal. The
theme turns towards darker renditions as the conflict starts thereafter,
slight on strings in suspense with long sustains at 0:48 into "Tenacious
Mirabel." At 1:23 in that cue, Franco offers an effective minor mode
alteration for the theme in a big moment of revelation about the
family's dwindling magic. Deep choral fear, with fragments on brass,
develop at 1:39 into "Mirabel's Discovery" and turn ominous at 0:15 into
"Chasing the Past" as Maribel investigates Bruno. The exotic flute for
that character is conveyed with sadness at 0:16 into "Tío Bruno;"
a heavy dose of early Danny Elfman lamentation interjects in the latter
half of the cue as Maribel discovers her uncle's secret place at the
family dinner table.
The final third of
Encanto continues Franco's
consistently intelligent adaptation of the main theme, opening "The
Ultimate Vision" magically on xylophone and harp for the scene of
magical vision. The composer caps the idea's major fantasy mode for full
ensemble in shades of its progressions at 1:46 in this cue. Subtle
guitar renditions of the theme at 0:34 into "Isabela la Perfecta"
smartly remind of the scene's purpose. It opens "The House Knows" with
deep sorrow, including light choral accompaniment, building to an
accelerating crescendo foreshadowed by the end of "Tenacious Mirabel."
The theme is slowed considerably at 1:58 into "La Candela," struggling
on exotic flute, with an almost Craig Armstrong-like, high choral
representation of death. Peaceful choral and guitar lament follow at
0:56 into "El Río Magdalena." The theme's most redemptive moment
comes at the start of "It Was Me," defeating hints of the tango to
achieve a gloriously upbeat rendition; its continuation at 0:45 on light
choir welcomes Bruno back to the family. The theme defines all of
"¡Hola Casita!" in full Disney fantasy mode for the return of the
family's home to the magical realm. It's a lovely moment that is tracked
again for the closing logos at the conclusion of the end credits. On
album, Franco offers a guitar suite of the two themes in "Impresiones
del Encanto," but the main identity dominates the performance starting
at 0:11. This suite opens with Maribel's theme, returns to its interlude
later and eventually closes with a few phrases of it. The Maribel theme
is the more attractively unique idea from Franco, its cumbia/dance
rhythms and longer melodic lines suggesting that it would have made a
better song than most of Miranda's. It is tentative and muted to open
the story at 0:08 into "Abre Tus Ojos," returning softly again on
guitars at 2:37. It also graces the start of "Meet la Familia" on
accordion in its main cumbia performance, the underlying rhythms
persisting with quirky comedic accents later on. After disappearing for
a while, the theme is reprised in hints early in "The Cracks Emerge,"
the cue extending to a mostly unrelated crescendo of fear. Shifting to
suspenseful sneaking mode at 0:27 into "Tenacious Mirabel," it rolls
over to fragments late in the tango of "Breakfast Questions" for
humorous effect. At 1:55 into "The Dysfunctional Tango," the theme's
first phrases try to fight the tango but appropriately lose. At 0:46
into "The Ultimate Vision," it is transformed into an action variant
with a bevy of impressive brass layers, one of the score's more robust
and sustained symphonic outbursts.
The theme for Maribel loses steam in the latter half of
Encanto, unfortunately, and this diminishment is perhaps the
biggest drawback of Franco's otherwise fantastic score. As the character
attempts to solve the puzzle behind the family's receding magic, the
composer pulls back on her theme and replaces it with the house and
magic theme more exclusively. It's almost as though a portion of
Maribel's musical soul is given up for the family, and that's not really
what the story suggests. Sheepish guitar hints carry the theme at 0:20
into "Isabela la Perfecta," while it opens "El Río Magdalena"
with deflation and loss. Thereafter, Franco sadly doesn't apply the
theme for the movie's finale, where it needed to play an outsized role
at the end of the "All of You" song or replace part of the "¡Hola
Casita!" cue given that Maribel is proven to be so key to the family's
magic even though she herself is not magical. Despite this inexplicable
absence of the theme in the culmination of the tale, it does dominate
the two main score-related cues unique to the end credits (after two
songs). Maribel's theme defines all of "La Cumbia de Mirabel" on
accordions and other regional instruments only while the full suite form
of the idea in "Mirabel's Cumbia" is truly spectacular. Aside from these
themes and the tango representing family dysfunction, Franco offers some
other motifs or instrumental consistency for other situations. Bruno's
material includes several of the score's most exciting moments for the
decently-sized orchestral ensemble, his mystery and prophesies fueling
the greatest action cues in lieu of a traditional villain. But Franco
also uses a particular exotic flute for the character as well,
highlighting the choral fantasy suspense of "Bruno's Tower" and
"Mirabel's Discovery." The latter cue also presents the most muscular
choral presence, male chanting about as frightening as the score gets,
though the story behind "Mirabel's Discovery" apes a bit of Indiana
Jones. The exotic flute motif is reprised early in "Chasing the Past,"
signaling the presence of Bruno before he is even seen. The vermin
associated with Bruno are the story's silly animal amusement, and Franco
responds with humorously plucked and struck rhythms in "The Rat's Lair"
that are ridiculous but easily digestible. The aforementioned action
music associated with Bruno culminates in "Chasing the Past," the
orchestral mayhem of Maribel's pursuit of Bruno through the tunnels
within the house nicely unique and robust in the score. In these
moments, as in "The Ultimate Vision," Franco really lays on the deep
brass; the score presents some bare and brazen performances for these
players.
Other singular moments in Franco's work for
Encanto produce some of the score's best highlights. Utilized in
the film as a source dance piece, "El Baile Madrigal" presents fantastic
saxophone performances not heard elsewhere in the soundtrack. A unique
motif of determination briefly develops during "Family Allies,"
perseverance defining the entirety of that cue. More explosive action
material comes in "La Candela" as Mirabel and the house team up to save
a magical candle; action with almost a slight James Bond flavor in its
powerful lower brass eventually builds on a desperation motif explored
previously in "The House Knows." A completely new idea highlighting the
Colombian performances and a ghostly choral interlude is devised in "El
Camino de Mirabel," which only appears in the end credits and concludes
with some rousing vocal celebration. Altogether, these cues help form
one of the most satisfyingly unique film scores of its era,
Encanto enjoying a magnificent narrative from Franco with the
exception of the diminishment of Maribel's theme in the second half of
the movie. Even here, the main theme serves well enough in its place as
to not distract from the story. There are no inaccessible or overly
challenging cues in the experience, the rumbling of "The Cracks Emerge"
a great example of Franco achieving her purpose without resorting to
troubling measures. There are also several absolutely outstanding cues
in the work, "Antonio's Voice" easily an enigma in the genre and
"Mirabel's Cumbia" sure to make your rear end wiggle in your seat. On
album, Disney provided a digital album a month before a CD, but the
former is sequenced to accommodate the shorter listening experience on
the latter. A pair of back-to-back cues, "The Rat's Lair" and
"Tío Bruno," is moved to the end to join the two suites,
"Impresiones del Encanto" (on guitar only) and "La Cumbia de Mirabel"
(mostly a reprise of "Mirabel's Cumbia" with a different mix), as bonus
tracks. That longer digital presentation also offers instrumental
versions of Miranda's eight songs. The omission of the two Bruno-related
score cues from the shorter presentation is really unfortunate; the
latter, with its Elfman-like sadness, could have fit on the CD. Disney
provided a "For Your Consideration" version of the score online at its
promotional awards site, and while it corrects the chronological order,
including moving "¡Hola Casita!" to the end, it drops much of "El
Baile Madrigal" and "Las Hermanas Pelean." The former's rendition is the
only unique part on the promotional presentation, though. Ultimately,
Miranda's stumble is countered by Franco's triumph for a soundtrack as
distinctive as any from Hollywood in years.
@Amazon.com: CD or
Download
- Songs as Written for the Film: **
- Score as Written for the Film: *****
- Music as Heard on Album: ****
- Overall: ****
The insert includes a list of performers but no extra information about the score or film.
