: (John Powell) The first
of author Cressida Cowell's novels about young medieval Viking Hiccup
Horrendous Haddock III was loosely translated by DreamWorks into an
early 2010 film of 3D technology and the same name. After a series of
ridiculously juvenile animated topics from that studio throughout the
2000's,
is an epic fantasy adventure
aimed at children and adults while carrying moral themes of tolerance
and family bonding. It follows the unlikely development of a friendship
between a nerdy Viking teenager and a dragon he was meant to kill as
part of his culture's ongoing feud with the beasts. Through his tender
relationship with the dragon, he not only seeks to bring peace between
the species but also earn the respect of his father, the Viking chief,
and the young female warrior of his liking. An absence of stupid humor,
a plot with actual meaning, an effective cast, and a spectacular
(completely computer generated) visual design combined to lead
not only to overwhelmingly positive critical
reviews, but also surprisingly robust earnings (the film blew past its
$150 million budget in grosses within the first two weeks of theatrical
release). The music in DreamWorks' 19 previous films has traditionally
been the domain of Hans Zimmer and, by association, his Remote Control
army of clones. John Powell, one of the two most successful graduates of
Zimmer's organization, has been involved with several of these
productions, but always sharing credit. Zimmer has long praised Powell's
abilities, on more than one occasion asserting that Powell is the far
superior composer between them, and it is refreshing to finally see
Powell helm a DreamWorks production on his own. That doesn't mean,
however, that there isn't an army of assistants, orchestrators,
arrangers, specialty performers, and engineers that dwarfs the usual
ensemble for the crew on the other side of the glass from the orchestra.
You still get the distinct impression that Powell has himself attracted
so many collaborators that questions may arise about how much of the
success of a project like
should be
credited to the primary composer. Still, what the score for this film
proves is that Zimmer is indeed correct about Powell's superiority when
you take into consideration the incredible density with which he writes.
Among those that used Zimmer's friendship to spawn their own careers,
Powell continues to write music that is, on a technical level, more
impressive in its orchestral mastery than any other.
A veteran of almost a dozen animated projects since the
late 1990's, Powell has always provided workmanlike music for the genre.
Ranging from proficient to outstanding in his tackling of these
assignments with personality and style, these scores are often
hyperactive and abundant in the creativity department. Usually, however,
they lack focus and a consistent flow, likely by necessity. You have to
go back to his collaborative efforts for
Antz and
Chicken
Run to be able to assemble listening experiences that tell a fluid
narrative on album and feature highlights of significant length.
Building off of the majesty and greater continuity exhibited in
X-Men: The Last Stand, however, Powell has finally managed to
create a well rounded and more easily digestible variation on his
typical mannerisms for
How to Train Your Dragon. The score's
employment of both rhythm and brass layers will be extremely familiar
for any enthusiast of Powell's music, as will some of the progressions
in the composer's many themes for the film. A sense of exuberance in the
score's lighthearted portions is especially reflective of the composer's
previous works, as is his affinity for using rhythm-setters of light
percussion to carry the momentum of a cue. But the film's longer
narrative format, absent the lurching, unwieldy slapstick nonsense and
quick cuts that have plagued DreamWorks films for several years, allowed
the composer to explore themes with long lines (and sometimes
interludes) and develop them throughout the score in satisfactory
fashion. He not only clearly establishes these identities, but
manipulates them in ways that James Horner masterfully accomplished in
his animation projects of the late 1980's and early 1990's, twisting
them with slower tempos and excruciating performance emphasis, for
instance. There are four consistently applied themes in
How to Train
Your Dragon, the first three conveniently revealed in snapshot
succession in the first two minutes of the score's opening piece, "This
is Berk." The third one is actually the title theme, embodying a sense
of high adventure that takes buoyant progressions from the swashbuckling
days of Erich Wolfgang Korngold and accelerates them to a hyperactive
pace and frenzied depth of instrumentation. Often conveying a spirited
Scottish flavor (more on that below), this theme is as memorable in its
enthusiastic conveyance as it is in its repetitive insertion to
represent the story's overarching adventurous personality. This theme
explodes in "New Tail", "This Time For Sure," and "Astrid Goes For a
Spin" and is eventually reduced to hints as part of the piano solo in "Where's
Hiccup?"
The two major secondary themes in
How to Train Your
Dragon are heard in the first minute of "This is Berk," beginning
with the one representing the redemption and excitement of flying. This
theme receives perhaps the most manipulation in the score but is best
summarized by "Test Drive." The other is a romantic idea for Hiccup and
his female companion, and you'll immediately hear similarities in
progression and rendering between this theme and that of the princess in
the
Shrek scores. Its most cohesive presentation comes in
"Romantic Flight," complete with longing fiddle and soothing choir. A
simple and key-rooted fourth theme, reflecting the mystique of the
dragons, emerges in "The Dragon Book" and culminates in the ominous
"Dragon's Den." As attractive as the thematic constructs in
How to
Train Your Dragon is Powell's extremely organic spread across the
dynamic range of instruments. He defies all of the formulas that cripple
the scores of other Zimmer associates by using a blend of live and
sampled specialty sounds to breathe vibrant life into the tone of his
thematic performances. The marimba and xylophone effect in "Forbidden
Friendship" combines with ethereal female voices and sleigh bells to
create an extremely unique ambience. A remarkable cue is "See You
Tomorrow," which raises memories of
Chicken Run while
highlighting the score's strange but consistent use of Scottish
instruments (bagpipes, fiddle, and penny whistle) in conjunction with
harpsichord and tapping snare. This tone is given muscular depth in the
following "Test Drive" with the assistance of large varied drums and
even an electric guitar. Anyone tired of hearing how Ramin Djawadi and
other lesser Zimmer associates abuse electric guitars in their
orchestral scores needs to pay attention to how well Powell employs the
instrument as purely a bass enhancement that infuses a cue with just a
slight hint of coolness without overpowering even a penny whistle. The
dynamic spread of the soundscape emphasizes treble elements without
sacrificing satisfying bass; this technique extends to the choir, which
includes brawny male vocals to represent the pride and power of the
Vikings (in ways that resurrect shades of Jerry Goldsmith's
The 13th
Warrior, not surprisingly) while also extending to the high female
ranks to crank up the intensity of the fantasy element in the battle
cues later on. Fans of clearly recorded and mixed solo performances by
woodwinds and strings will find much to like in this score, all the way
to the conclusive "The Vikings Have Their Tea," which, like several
other cues before it, addresses the levity of a scene without resorting
to even faint hints of typical cartoonish ensemble hits and slapstick
pacing of stuttering movement.
Overall,
How to Train Your Dragon is an
extremely well developed score for the animated genre. It's technically
superior to all of Powell's previous endeavors in this area and is
arguably the most satisfying listening experience of this nature since
his past collaborator Harry Gregson-Williams'
Sinbad: Legend of the
Seven Seas in 2003. It's also refreshing to hear Powell able to
expand upon some of the general ideas in his previous scores and give
them full-fledged identities. His best scores typically feature
extraordinary highlights but suffer from continuity issues often beyond
his control. The format of this film allowed him to really play with his
themes and explore dense instrumental balances not usually heard
anywhere in film music. There are, however, a couple of detractions to
the score that are blatantly obvious. The first issue is with the
ethnicity of the work. It wouldn't be surprising to learn that the
casting of some Scottish actors in lead roles for the voices led to a
similar influence of that ethnicity on the score. There's really no
reason whatsoever for bagpipes, fiddles, and whistles to have such a
prominent place in a score for Vikings. They do sound pretty, of course,
and that was probably a determining factor. But there's a lingering
distrust of the application of Scottish and Irish tones that James
Horner has perpetuated through the years, and to hear such elements in
How to Train Your Dragon may irritate (or at least baffle) some
listeners. Powell does make a few nods to traditional Viking tones,
especially with the horn call and percussion at the outset of "Dragon
Battle," but none of it approaches Mario Nascimbene territory. Secondly,
there is no doubt that while the foundation of this score, as well as
its dynamic orchestral flourishes, will appeal to Golden Age film music
collectors, Powell still doesn't take his foot off the gas for very
long in his works. Cues like "Forbidden Friendship" and "Romantic
Flight" are absolutely necessary respites from the level of bombastic
activity in this music. The suite of final five cues is appropriately
exhausting and jettisons some of the thematic cohesion earlier in the
score for outright explosive symphonic rambling. It's glorious material,
but for those who have never been able to tolerate the extroverted
personality of Powell's previous animation scores, it could be daunting
to navigate. Another final downside of the album is the Icelandic-styled
rock song provided by Jonsi, which drains all the enthusiasm out of the
environment created by Powell. Despite the curious and potentially
damaging aspects of his score, it's easy to get the impression that this
recording is about as fine as the composer's animation style can get.
It's the best such ruckus since
Chicken Run and, for setting
itself apart from its peers (both in this genre and in the realm of
one-time Zimmer associates),
How to Train Your Dragon hurls
enough fire to earn the highest rating.
***** @Amazon.com: CD or
Download
Bias Check: |
For John Powell reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 3.22
(in 46 reviews) and the average viewer rating is 3.12
(in 48,216 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
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