expresses a familiar story of a young
man learning the arts of fighting and self-defense to protect his honor
and loved ones. It marks the first collaboration of franchise stalwart
Ralph Macchio and Jackie Chan on screen, adapting elements of the
long-running "Cobra Kai" television series along the way. A Chinese boy
with aspirations to avenge his brother's death and earn the heart of a
love interest in New York learns both Japanese karate and Chinese kung
fu techniques from the two masters while fending off threatening
assholes, culminating in the obligatory, official match in which the boy
defeats the prodigy of the evil ringleader on the other side. The
storyline is surely recycled, but the tone of the film is distinctly
modernized for the new setting. Gone are much of the Japanese traditions
that originally defined the concept, and in their place is an even
bigger set of ass-kicking American mores that has to attach a solid pair
of testicles to everything. The soundtracks in the franchise have
increasingly promoted this change from the respectful days of Bill Conti
for the original series of films, "Cobra Kai" carefully translating that
Conti foundation for more modern audiences. The duo of Leo Birenberg and
Zach Robinson did not return from that series to write the music for
, a missed opportunity for their contributions
to evolve and shine. Instead, the assignment went to rising composer
Dominic Lewis, who had excelled in transitioning into the action realm
in prior years with creative approaches to many of his assignments. His
strategy with
was clearly aimed at resetting
the musical tone of the whole franchise, nodding to Conti's original
themes and occasionally tossing in instrumental references as necessary
but largely ignoring the personality inherent in those scores and taking
the modernized "Cobra Kai" sound to even more extreme levels. Ready the
earplugs.
In Lewis' take on the concept, the Japanese element is
almost completely gone, and the Chinese influence is barely discernable.
The descending, vaguely Asian lines are sickly electronic in "5
Boroughs" and unconvincing elsewhere. Instead,
Karate Kid:
Legends is a bizarre blend of hip hop irreverence, post-modern
action, and incongruent moments of shallow drama. It's a score of all
production style and no substance, with no truly grounded sense of
character or heart. Going the disco rap route isn't completely
disqualifying by itself, but the way Lewis renders it makes it sound
like a collection of cheap-sounding processing gimmicks. It's not
unusual for synthetic manipulation of music to exist in movies striving
for edgier attitudes, but that mode doesn't fit here and wasn't executed
well anyway. Lewis also provides his own vocals all over the work, from
accents within the score to outright hip hop songs, all of which
obnoxious in this context. Songs like "Tick Tick," "Please," and "Push
Down" do little to advance the score or the concept and are awful on
their own. His vocalizations are sometimes so heinous that they become
funny. A few of them could be mistaken for a person conducting vocal
exercises or, as in "The Arena," engaging in vigorous throat-clearing
during allergy season. Some of his smoother renditions, as in "Down and
Out," are more palatable but too short. When the vocal passages aren't
present, you receive alternating cues of light drama for the new set of
themes, pointless ambient muck ("Connor" and "Bo"), or wretched action
manipulation ("Dragon Kick" and "The Arena," the latter so bad that it's
amusing). The sounds Lewis chooses to infuse into this keyboarded and
rock band ensemble, which dominate the orchestral presence at nearly
every turn, are often laugh-inducing. The idiotic siren noises in "Fight
Night" are perfect for invading aliens. We've heard the banging of
garbage cans in "Too Many Cooks" before, and it doesn't ever get any
better. The belching sounds and other vocals in the middle of "Old Dogs,
New Kicks" are hilarious. In the end, it's the excessive post-production
of all these noises that absolutely ruins this score, representing the
worst of conceptions about what edgy music is supposed to sound
like.
While developing his own new themes for
Karate Kid:
Legends, Lewis doesn't completely cast aside the Conti identities
from the original series of films, but his execution of them is really
poor. The Conti material doesn't factor much until late in the score;
small pieces are littered throughout, but the inflection of the original
versions is gone. Lewis teases the legacy in "Two Branches, One Tree"
briefly before launching into the score's new main theme, and this music
struggles to emerge from the terrible tones of "Dragon Kick." Conti's
teaching motif and Daniel's theme blend with the new main theme in
"Daniel-San," one of the nicest and most sincere moments in the score,
but it sounds so out of place that it seems forced. These themes vaguely
inform "Training Montage" in extremely post-modern methods. Lewis
provides shadows from the teaching motif in "The Final, Part 1" and "The
Final, Part 2," with Daniel's theme exploding at the end of the latter
cue for a moment of victory that seems to suggest that the idea has
passed on to another generation. Daniel's theme is then transformed into
a short rock ballad in "Touch the Stars" for Lewis' own vocals, and it
had informed the periphery of the song "Push Down" as well. While the
rendition in "Touch the Stars" is easily palatable, it leaves you with a
sense of unease at what this franchise has become. The overall presence
of Conti's themes plays like a token element of mandatory inclusion
rather than loving adaptation to the themes' naturally evolved states.
Lewis also reinvents the wheel more than necessary in the concept,
providing a new love theme for Li and Mia in this story whereas one of
the prior Conti identities would have nicely sufficed. This idea
constitutes the song "The Best of Me" but had debuted with completely
anonymous, watery dabbling until it consolidating late in "Li and Mia."
This theme is deconstructed early in the bizarre "Alone," delicately
explored in "Lanterns" (which sounds like a contributing writer may have
infused a little more life into this one moment), and climbs out of the
main theme late in "Training Montage" with extremely distorted
keyboarding. The love theme then offers some pleasant but still highly
processed ambience in "Fetterman Gardens" and goes nowhere impactful in
the remainder of the work.
Lewis' main theme for
Karate Kid: Legends is
fairly decent and sounds like it's adapted from figures dating back to
Conti's work. It forms the basis of the highly processed, insufferable
song "Timebomb" but is faithfully developed throughout the score. It's
built during most of "Two Branches, One Tree," increasingly stepping
away from the franchise's musical tradition as the cue progresses by
embracing heavily altered coolness in the latter half of the cue and
thus sounding ridiculous. This theme is lightly plucked against the
tonal meandering in "Mother Knows Best," softly keyboarded in "Black
Eye, Frozen Peas" before a hip moment, tries to assert itself in the
distortion of "Fong Song," and is adapted out of the Li and Mia theme at
the end of "Lanterns." It guides the nasty attitude of the highly
synthetic and looped "Pizza Montage," where it is progressively
headache-inducing in its horrific manipulation. Forced into John
Powell's
Bourne Identity chase mode for banging percussion in
"Too Many Cooks," the idea is deconstructed in "Bedroom Blues" for a
slow respite from the madness but forced into flamboyant hip hop
posturing in "Training Montage" and interrupted by a momentarily decent
string interlude. The theme tries but fails to exude some warmth into
"Trap a Tiger" and the start of "The Final, Part 1," and while
orchestral fragments try to guide the latter cue, they lose to pounding
rock infusion. Finally, the theme clarifies a bit in "The Final, Part
2," but is still obscured by its own distortions. The post-processing of
the music in
Karate Kid: Legends is its defining characteristic,
masking the thematic development that Lewis does provide. Those who
still love and appreciate the Conti scores for the original films will
find this modernization to be horrific. Not only is the rampant
manipulation challenging to tolerate inherently as a mixing technique,
but it espouses none of the personal respect pivotal in the master and
student relationship in these stories, nor the tradition of karate and
kung fu from which the lessons are learned. Lewis' employment of these
techniques may attract some audiences, but it will sound downright
stupid to others. The album presentation mixes Lewis' score and original
song selections, declining the multitudes of other song placements in
the film. It's an absolute mess of a soundtrack on the whole, and it has
passages that are so mind-bogglingly awful that you can only laugh at
their misplacement in this concept.
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