The score for
First Man is the kind of music
that strives for the "less in more" approach, but in a story of a
character involved in such major scientific and political events, the
score is ultimately carried by the film's other production elements
rather than contributing a convincingly deep, evolving layer to the
narrative. The sparseness of the music has a certain appeal
intellectually, but it also suggests psychosis and detachment from
reality that is overplayed. The music needed to connect Armstrong's deep
sense of loss, fear of failing his family, and occasional alienation
with his determination to succeed at his work, and the score does
nothing to achieve that end. The music either wallows in despair or
undulates forcefully in its duties on behalf of space travel; there
really is nothing in between. There is some satisfying development of
character in Hurwitz's handling of his major themes, especially in the
final three or four cues, but otherwise a moment of family drama in the
score sounds exactly the same at the end as it did in the beginning. An
orchestra is employed, but only as means of supplying gravity to the
NASA and/or space-oriented moments. The heart of
First Man is
Hurwitz's slew of vintage synthetic tones, led by theremin (acquired and
performed by the composer himself), Moog, Echoplex, and other tools of
yesteryear. These items provide a background for the daunting technology
and environment of suspense with stereotypical otherworldliness that is
rather tired here. The theremin, however, is utilized to connect this
foreign world to Armstrong's family, the primary thematic passages of
the movie often featuring the instrument as a substitute for a solo
vocalist. Fortunately, all the performances of the theremin here are on
the soft and subtle end of its sonic spectrum; never does Hurwitz
succumb to the temptation to wail away with the instrument in Bernard
Herrmann or Danny Elfman zeal. It is joined by a harp to form the
dominant duo in expressing the two introverted themes for the
Armstrongs. The first of these ideas is the heart of the score
melodically, introduced on tender harp in "Karen" and representing Neil
Armstrong's feeling of loss towards his daughter and separation from his
remaining family. This idea is raised throughout the score in extremely
somber, almost inaudible performances and only finally receives more
engaging performances as counterpoint in the launch scene and especially
on theremin in "Crater" and "Quarantine." The greater depth of the idea
heard in "Crater" is something of a catharsis for Armstrong, though the
music remains quite restrained in even this passage.
Even in the family theme for
First Man, nagging
similarities to existing works persist. In "Crater," don't be surprised
if the theme reveals itself to be a pale leftover from the far more
powerful melody of "Who Will Take My Dreams Away?" by Angelo Badalamenti
for
The City of Lost Children. One notable sidetrack in the path
of this theme is "Docking Waltz," which places the idea in a Richard
Strauss-like
2001: A Space Odyssey environment for strings and
woodwinds that is so awkwardly removed from the remainder of the score
that it is actually quite obnoxious. The second theme for
First
Man highlights harp and involves Armstrong's own perseverance,
introduced in "Armstrong Cabin" and extending similarly to "Sextant"
before driving the cyclical rhythm of "The Landing," where its
inspiration from Trevor Jones, Philip Glass, and Max Richter becomes
more apparent. A third theme in the score is afforded to NASA and the
astronauts' preparation for missions. The most notable performances of
this idea are its two brightest and most optimistic: "Houston," where
the sprightly rhythm is joined by enthusiastic percussion, and "End
Credits," where the proper melody of the identity is expressed the
fuller symphonic shades. An almost cool electric bass riff opening this
cue is heard elsewhere in the theme's performances, as in "First to
Dock." The other standalone thematic presence in
First Man exists
for the gripping "Apollo 11 Launch" sequence, in which the score's
melodies clash with a slow crescendo of progressions seemingly informed
by John Powell's
United 93. The synthetic effects of this cue are
unnecessary sweeteners that sound like a desperate attempt by the
composer to insert the dangers of space into a sequence that Horner
proved was served quite adequately by more tonal expressions. Mixed in
between all these moments of interest are a slew of short cues of
synthetic ambience that add little to the narrative, yielding a rather
arduous 68-minute presentation on album. Some of these passages, as in
"X-15" right off the bat, resemble the buzzing of insects in a most
irritating fashion. Combined with two songs in the presentation on
album, the score for
First Man is basically sufficient and
occasionally inspiring. But the drama of this tale demanded a more
potent, less ambient score. Not the nobility of
Apollo 13, but
something in between. The greater empathy conveyed in "Crater" would
have been a good starting point for the work. In the end,
First
Man serves its purpose at a bare minimum of depth and with
occasionally suspect inspiration, and that outcome will suffice for
many, but the ingredients in this score could have conveyed so much
more.
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