Powell also introduces a theme for Hiccup's wacky group of friends in How to Train Your Dragon, the identity doubling as an aspirational tune for the youth. Heard first at 3:18 into "This is Berk," the idea turns vaguely heroic in "Anybody See That?" and is sprinkled throughout "War Room" and "Training Out There." It becomes redemptive at the beginning of "Kill Ring," massive at 1:37 into "Over/Less Okay" and 1:05 into "Counter Attack," and is the basis of the closing "The Viking Have Their Tea" credits cue. About as frequently referenced is the score's de facto villain's theme, though the Viking warrior identity sometimes fills that void as Hiccup rebels against his own culture. The theme for the dragons is dominant in "Dragon Battle," offering clanging and tapping percussion to accentuate their militaristic representation. The idea, which clearly set the basis for future villains' themes in the franchise, returns in "Hiccup Comes Home," the closing moments of both "Dragon Training" and "Dragons Den," and the start of "Not a Viking." The climax of the film from "Ready/Confront" to "Counter Attack" applies this idea as needed for the battle, "Wings" containing perhaps the most menacing performance of the theme. On the other end of the spectrum is Powell's theme for fate, heard first at 1:04 into "Training Out There" and realizing its potential at the start of "New Tail" and in several performances in "See You Tomorrow." Finally, the score would not be complete without a romance theme, and though Powell offers one in only three cues in the score, it's immensely impactful. As Astrid doesn't reciprocate Hiccup's feelings at this point in the franchise, it's not surprising that her theme is dropped into just these rare places. It debuts during her larger-than-life intro at 3:01 into "This is Berk" but flourishes in almost suite-like form in "Romantic Flight," complete with longing fiddle and soothing choir. Some listeners will hear similarities in progressions and rendering between this theme and that of the princess in the Shrek scores. While "Romantic Flight" is frustratingly short, Powell allows the theme additional room in "Let's Find Dad" and the first minute of "Coming Back Around." On the whole, Powell's thematic tapestry is largely woven in "This is Berk," the composer's opening cues in the first two films tending to serve as fantastic summaries of many of the franchise's main identities. These ideas sometimes mature into different meanings as the stories progress, but the core group remains intact and begs for intellectual pondering together as a trio.

As attractive as the thematic construction 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 dulcimer rhythm 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 Celtic instruments (bagpipes, fiddle, and penny whistle) in conjunction with harpsichord and tapping snare. This approach was recommended to Powell by the film's producer after the composer had struggled to first create a more Viking-appropriate sound. 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 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. At the time, it was refreshing to hear Powell able to expand upon some of the nascent techniques in his previous scores and give them full-fledged identities here. 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.

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 was arguably the most satisfying listening experience of this nature since his past collaborator Harry Gregson-Williams' underrated Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas in 2003. There were, however, a few detractions to the score that have diminished over time but are still worth mentioning. The first issue is obviously the ethnicity of the work, a choice noticed by critics at the time and causing some head-scratching. It wasn't 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. But there's really no logical 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 they were something of a musical common denominator with new age pop culture, and that was probably a determining factor. There was a lingering distrust of the application of Scottish and Irish tones that James Horner had perpetuated through the years, and to hear such elements in How to Train Your Dragon had the capability to 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 classic Mario Nascimbene territory. Secondly, there is no doubt that while the robust 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 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. This downside includes the bizarre marching band tone of the score's finale. Another downside of the film and album is the Icelandic-styled rock song, "Sticks & Stones," provided by Jonsi, which drains all the enthusiasm out of the environment created by Powell. Jonsi's songs for the sequels are commonly considered superior to this original entry, and they would eventually figure more directly into Powell's work.

On album, the initial Varèse Sarabande product of 2010 surveyed a generous 72 minutes from the score and covered all the major cues. In 2020, the label revisited How to Train Your Dragon in conjunction with Powell's studio to release the complete the score with two alternates and a handful of demos. While Varèse released this limited, "deluxe" CD album (later offered digitally), the arrangement and mixing of the contents was entirely the work of Powell and his own studio associates. Generally, the most interesting change to the presentation is Powell's decision to adjust the mix so that the listening experience isn't so loud across the board, allowing more natural dynamism that enhances the perceived scope of the recording. The cues aren't combined differently except for the merging of "This is Berk" and "Dragon Battle," which is a bit odd until you consider that those two tracks were actually considered one longer cue by Powell. He chose to provide both final versions of the logos music at the start of the picture in succession, separating the film version from the far more ominous choral alternate that he had originally intended. (This beefier opening is preferable, so it's nice to hear it attached formally to the full "This is Berk" track.) The other alternate is a version of "The Vikings Have Their Tea" that combines its fiddle and whistle for all of the cue rather than trading off on the melody. In the meat of the score, there is only about 12 minutes of additional material on the longer album, and some of it is incidental. The duo of "Anybody See That?" and "War Room" offers noteworthy development of the various Berk and Viking themes, however. A choral fantasy crescendo in "Offering" and action burst at the outset of "Teamwork" are also engaging. Laying on bagpipes and percussion without remorse for the friendship motif is "Astrid Finds Toothless," and "Not A Viking" offers a suspenseful performance of the same idea. The mammoth "Relax/Stroke/Hell" and "Wings" present the muscular Viking fighting and dragon themes at explosive choral levels. Listeners expecting more development of the score's main themes will be disappointed, but the 2020 album does maintain a better narrative presentation. Powell's demo recordings are an intellectual treat, covering six of the score's seven best cues. Despite the curious and potentially damaging aspects of his score's ethnicity, this recording is about as fine as the composer's animation style can get, and Powell's sequel scores, astonishingly, managed to improve even further upon the formula. In 2010, this was Powell's best fantasy ruckus since Chicken Run and, for setting itself well apart from its peers both in the 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