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| Umebayashi |
House of Flying Daggers: (Shigeru Umebayashi) Even
if you have no interest in the genre of martial arts romanticism of
historic China, the stylish films of the early 2000's that launched the
topic to international acclaim are worth beholding simply for their
visual splendor. The success of
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
yielded a variety of similar explorations of this tragic genre, and hot
on the heals of
Hero in 2004 was Zhang Yimou's
House of Flying
Daggers. These films thankfully are simply stunning to view in their
cinematography and application of colors, because if you seek them for
satisfying love stories, you're in for a nasty surprise. The tale of
House of Flying Daggers is about as predictably depressing as
they come, a love triangle destined for a bloody end after two young
police captains infiltrate a rebel group (of the film's title) that is
resisting the declining powers of the Tang Dynasty in the year 859. A
series of betrayals and revelations involving the characters is anchored
by the captains' shared affections for a supposedly blind woman thought
to be a member of the group. As their commanding general pursues them
later in the film, they must fight together before the final
confrontation over the woman. There is no "happily ever after" in
House of Flying Daggers, but with a visual presentation as
intoxicating as any the genre has produced, the film remains highly
recommended. It fared well with critics and fans at film festivals and
was given a wide release by Sony, producing outstanding global returns.
Composer Tan Dun had been the voice of this genre of films throughout
the previous five years, but for
House of Flying Daggers the
assignment went to Japan's Shigeru Umebayashi, who was already a veteran
of over 50 film scores after his notable participation with a Japanese
new-wave rock band ended with its disbandment. Like Dun, Umebayashi's
recognition outside of Asia has been largely limited to this specific
genre of historical drama, with neither man able to use these memorable
scores to step into American cinema, a topic of much disgruntlement for
fans of this music. Their approaches are basically similar in the
application of Eastern instrumentation and stylistic mannerisms to
Western symphonic norms and synthetic accents of film scoring, though
Umebayashi exercises far more restraint in his employment of the Western
elements. In terms of accessibility for average collectors of Hollywood
film music, Dun's music is typically more attractive, despite the
equally effective techniques used by Umebayashi for
House of Flying
Daggers.
Comfortable for anyone will be Umebayashi's employment
of a dynamically layered orchestral string section for
House of
Flying Daggers, but the expected highlights of the genre are
produced by the traditional instruments of the Orient. The bulk of the
solo work is handled by the usual erhu and dizi, the violins and flutes
most often associated with the region. Joining them are papa lute and
yangqin dulcimer, along with a few intriguingly international accents
ranging from Japanese percussion to crisp saxophone. A few passages for
electronic manipulation and wordless female vocals also lend color to
the score, culminating in a pair of songs by the composer that vary
greatly in performance aspect. The erhu and dizi are the main
attraction, however, intoxicating as always in their refreshing tone.
Like the film, it's the combination of these disparate sounds that
attracts you. But the weakness of the score is Umebayashi's refusal to
follow a cohesive narrative flow, instead handling each scene as its own
piece within a larger opera. This lack of consistent development is
assuaged by the final four cues, but prior to this impressive finale,
the score exhibits the same disregard for the overarching narrative as a
typical Vangelis work. Also reminiscent of Vangelis is the incredibly
sparse nature of many of these cues, sometimes allowing one instrument
to very precisely convey the entire emotional spectrum of a scene. As
such, until the melodramatic conclusion, there is a lack of depth to the
music that will alienate many Western listeners. For those who do not
need resounding depth of a full ensemble to denote a sense of gravity (a
technique completely ignored by Umebayashi; the bass region is very weak
in this score), however, there is considerable beauty to be heard in
these performances. It doesn't help, though, that Umebayashi made the
love theme for
House of Flying Daggers the primary identity of
the film; as such, it doesn't really begin to pull the score together
until the end. Fans will casually note that this theme opens with the
same six notes as Nino Rota's enduring love theme from
The
Godfather, likely a coincidence. After debuting in "Flower Garden,"
the theme gains momentum until it finally receives layered performances
by the full ensemble in "Lovers (Mei and Jin)" and "Farewell No. 2." It
also serves as the basis for soprano Kathleen Battle's striking, English
vocal rendition in "Lovers." Overall, there is much to appreciate in
House of Flying Daggers, but Umebayashi's score risks being too
distantly sparse for those expecting depth of character in the music.
With deliberate restraint comes respect and distinction for each solo
element, but also a sense of introversion that betrays passion of this
magnitude for the Western ear.
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- Music as Written for the Film: ****
- Music as Heard on Album: ***
- Overall: ***
The insert includes no extra information about the score or film.
