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| Doyle |
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein: (Patrick Doyle) There
have been dozens of cinematic adaptations of Mary Shelley's famed novel
about Victor Frankenstein and his tortured creature, but until Kenneth
Branagh's version in 1994, none had made a really concerted effort to
faithfully tackle the original story's issues of family dysfunction and
abandonment. Through the years, movies about Frankenstein's creation
have ranged from the popular realm of cheap horror to ridiculous parody,
and Branagh sought to do justice to the concept by following, with just
a few narrative alterations, the actual plot of the novel. This
shouldn't come as a surprise, because the gothic tragedy that the tale
represents isn't far from a simple extension of the melodramatic nature
of the actor/director's interest in William Shakespeare. As in the
novel,
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein moves swiftly through Europe
and the arctic, with death befalling nearly all the major characters and
the boundaries of hard science cast aside in favor of a convenient
analysis of severe familial challenges. Featuring a compelling
supporting cast and soundly praised art direction and makeup (the latter
nominated for an Oscar), the film suffered from Branagh's own, strangely
fanciful performance as Victor and a morbid gruesomeness that was simply
too depressing for some audiences to handle. Its disastrous showing at
the American box office was offset by worldwide interest that eventually
transformed
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein into a surprisingly
robust fiscal success. As expected, the young cinematic collaboration
between Branagh and friend Patrick Doyle extended to this project. The
composer, while known most widely for his association with the Bard in
that decade, was exploring a period from 1991 to 1994 that would yield
his most ambitious horror music, a sound that he did not delve into with
such resolve for the remainder of the 1990's or the 2000's. The trio of
Dead Again,
Needful Things, and
Mary Shelley's
Frankenstein arguably represent Doyle's most darkly dramatic career
material. While the middle entry is a somewhat cheap, cliched
regurgitation of genre music with an underpowered orchestra,
Mary
Shelley's Frankenstein is a mature extension of the romanticism of
Dead Again, and it has long stood as the composer's most powerful
expression of symphonic mayhem and dread. Like the abomination,
everything about Doyle's score is massive, and a wet mix of an extremely
dynamic orchestral performance will at times blow you out of your
seat.
There is a force of orchestral power in
Mary
Shelley's Frankenstein that overcomes the composer's often fluffy
and dainty structural tendencies, taking that familiar hopelessly
romantic allure and injecting it with so much bombast that the still
harmonic burst of energy is monumentally unique, despite remaining
recognizable as a Doyle entry. The scope of the recording is an
outstanding asset, especially when brass layers do sonic battle. There
is interestingly no choral accompaniment in this score, a shame given
that Doyle had employed singers in his previous works and could have
forgiven himself for such silly usage in
Needful Things. A rich
balance between the sections of the orchestra is aided by occasional
organ, but medium range drums mixed too much at forefront are a
detriment during some propulsive cues (especially the final two minutes
of the score). The rowdy force of "The Creation" approaches Elliot
Goldenthal territory in its densely challenging, extremely brutal tone,
especially from the brass. On the other end of the score, several
earlier cues express the flowing strings and flourishes of woodwinds
that you'd expect in this era of Doyle's music, but with greater depth.
Several melodies run throughout
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein,
anchored by the love theme for Victor and Elizabeth that is fully
developed in "The Wedding Night" (though already explored in previous
cues throughout the film). Written before the film was shot, this theme
is expressive Doyle romanticism at its melodramatic pinnacle. The
creature is provided a wailing brass motif (once again reminding of
Goldenthal in its defiance of pitch) that extends from its birth to its
fiery demise in "He Was My Father." The score features a title theme
that is unfortunately under-utilized, though it is very well stated
several times at the outset in "To Think of a Story." Doyle would
humorously reference parts of this theme in his much later score for the
animated film
Igor, and its extremely heavy, downbeat personality
would have been a welcome addition to more of the meat of the score.
Among the best aspects of
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is its
frantic pacing, almost always returning to a fierce, rolling sense of
momentum after brief interludes of romanticism. Even "The Honeymoon"
isn't immune from this frightening, forward movement. In this regard,
Doyle perfectly captures the definition of obsession in his music. The
entire score is an expression of tragedy to behold, an immense career
achievement that suffers from a tendency to collapse under its own
weight after a while. Expect a demanding listening experience that will
tax your stamina and make you wonder why Doyle has not further explored
this type of music in subsequent years.
**** @Amazon.com: CD or
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| Bias Check: |
For Patrick Doyle reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 3.84
(in 32 reviews)
and the average viewer rating is 3.44
(in 26,327 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
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The insert includes a note from the composer about the film and score.
