Wallfisch has confessed that Bernard Herrmann was the
inspiration for his approach to
The Invisible Man, opting for the
string-only orchestra because of Herrmann's proficiency creating tension
with just those players. How that explains the electronic half of this
score is beyond reason, however, as the orchestral passages are indeed
quite adept at the task. In fact, Wallfisch's application of piano and
strings for the heroine and the suit itself is nothing less than
fantastic, the composer truly succeeding at achieving that Herrmann
sound. His meandering piano line for the suit and ascending cello theme
for the woman masterfully intertwine in "He's Gone" for the first time,
the woman's theme debuting at 1:00 and the suit's motif at 1:25. While
Wallfisch cites
Psycho as the direct inspiration here, the better
match is Herrmann's
Cape Fear, the rhythmically hypnotic patterns
able to be emphasized with significant variances in emotion as both
wonder and suspense necessitate. In that regard, the better contemporary
sibling for this score is Jerry Goldsmith's
The Haunting,
especially in the descending lines of mystery in cues like "Make It
Rain" and "Why Me." By the climax, however, Wallfisch takes that
Goldsmith technique of suspenseful romanticism and bloats it to
Basic
Instinct levels. The effect is arguably overblown by the final scene
of the film, though it is among the more compelling recordings of the
composer's career. The genesis of this material for Wallfisch existed in
flashes during his
It scores and, more substantively,
The Cure
for Wellness. After its introduction in "He's Gone," the woman and
suit themes return late in "Make It Rain," where the suit motif
dominates, and "Why Me," in which the cello for the woman again
struggles against that motif. A highlight of the score is "The Suit," in
which the woman discovers her ex-partner's toy for the first time and
activates it. Here, Wallfisch transfers the suit motif from the piano to
the full strings for a lushly immense and tonal expression of intrigue.
Tortured interplay between these ideas occupies "It's All a Lie" and
"Surprise," the suit's motif asserting itself better. In "Denouement,"
however, the composer takes the lush depth of "The Suit" and applies it
the woman's theme to give it a massively satisfying sense of
accomplishment. While the cue is magnificent, the extended shot of the
woman's face at that final moment is laughably ridiculous on screen as
Wallfisch milks the moment for every ounce of drama. The "Denouement"
cue continues over the end credits, solo performances of the woman's
cello theme and the ensemble string idea for the suit closing the
score.
Unfortunately, as compelling as the orchestral
highlights of
The Invisible Man may be, Wallfisch's electronic
portions are unlistenable both in the film and on album. It's unusual
for such a strategic error to cause so much distraction in the film, but
it does here. For the invisible man (the ex-partner) and his actions,
Wallfisch uses heavily manipulated electronic tones. In "Escape," a
scene otherwise powerful in its absence of music, the cue's explosions
of pure noise are unnecessary and annoying. The same techniques apply to
"Attack," "He's Behind You," and "House Fight;" the strings do join in
with vague chopping at times. These are wretchedly terrible cues,
especially on album, where they have abrupt volume drop-offs to passages
of inaudible synthetic ambience between outright blasts of ear-bombing.
The third type of music in the score is the hybrid suspense, as in
"Cobolt" and "Asylum." When this material maintains the integrity of the
organic recording, as in "This is What He Does," "We've Got That in
Common," and "It's All a Lie," it remains effective. By the time the
woman uses the suit to conduct her own revenge killing, Wallfisch favors
the orchestra rather than the electronics for the occasion. Had the
composer taken this stance throughout the entire picture,
The
Invisible Man could have been an outstanding score. Herrmann didn't
need to use cheap tricks to supply the outlandish fantasy horror
element; he incorporated specialty instruments, of course, but he did
not abandon the base orchestral sound. The same could be said of
Goldsmith, and that was the trick to their success. For the two halves
of this score to coexist, and for the heroine to eventually become the
killer in the suit by the end, the musical transformation had to develop
out of common ground between the two halves of the music. And that
simply wasn't possible because they were too disparate by nature to
intermingle at the end, especially given the magnificent mix of the
string layers alone. Wallfisch handles this problem by simply pushing
the orchestral portion to the max, with a few obnoxious manipulations
thrown in as an attempt to address the evolution. Playing with synthetic
manipulations of obnoxious noises is not impressive nor really all that
effective in 2020's filmmaking. Twisting those noises into the realm of
suspenseful, tonal romance or, conversely, forcing the orchestra to
organically supply the same discord of the electronics is where the
answer lies. Otherwise, the transformation at the end has only a partial
musical foundation of reference. As it is, Wallfisch's
The Invisible
Man is hypnotically gorgeous and gratingly repulsive all in one,
forcing the listener to edit together 15 to 20 minutes of the score's
more effective half on album for a worthwhile tribute to the suspense
masters.
*** @Amazon.com: CD or
Download
