seems to fit the mould
quite appropriately. Written by
's Antoine Fuqua, and produced by the
outrageously well-funded Jerry Bruckheimer,
is an
attempt to take the legend of Camelot and provide the "true story"
behind it, the historical drama at the core of the commonly embraced
modern myth. Unfortunately, it's difficult to really accomplish that
purpose when expert historians argue about whether or not Arthur even
existed. That's irrelevant to Bruckheimer, however, and in his effort to
reproduce the mass appeal of
tale soiled with mud, short on
wizardry, and injected with modern standards of feminism. Soured
critical response and a surprisingly drab audience appreciation greeted
earlier in the same year, the 2004 movie failing to recoup its budget
domestically. Unlike
does have
a more interesting and convincing ensemble performance. The contribution
of composer Hans Zimmer to the latter project is one that could have
been predicted four years ahead of time, with a regurgitation of style
that matches Fuqua's stereotypical shaky-camera/quick-cuts methodology
shot for shot. There is absolutely no doubt whatsoever that Fuqua and
Bruckheimer sought Zimmer's services not only to perpetuate a successful
past collaboration, but to reprise the ideas of
in an
even more dramatically powerful sound. One could imagine Bruckheimer
saying during a spotting session, "I want
with even
more testosterone." The composer accomplished that task, in part with
the assistance of co-composers and conductors Nick Glennie-Smith and
Rupert Gregson-Williams, two Media Ventures regulars. That production
house was, incidentally, undergoing a change of name to "Remote Control"
at about this time, an event resulting from a lawsuit between Zimmer and
Media Ventures co-founder Jay Rifkin. Regardless of this turmoil behind
the scenes, the music to emanate from Zimmer and his crew for
To his credit, Zimmer nails the intended target in
King
Arthur without fail, and he even applied Bruckheimer's likely
request to the wildly popular "Now We Are Free" new age song contributed
by Lisa Gerrard in
Gladiator. Having now officially graduated
from the "Enya Institute of Uniform and Borderline-Boring New Age
Mysticism" (having been introduced to his course of study way back in
1992's
Toys), Zimmer transforms the famous "Now We Are Free" song
into
King Arthur's absolutely Enya-saturated equivalent, "Tell Me
Now (What You See)." Moya Brennan's vocals would be beautiful if not for
their mere replication of at least a dozen Enya songs (overdubbing in a
wishy-washy ambience is the most pertinent similarity), and part of that
responsibility lands on the shoulders of Zimmer. The song features, as
usual, the main theme of the score itself, with Zimmer remaining very
faithful to that melody for the duration of the film. But that theme is
inherently simplistic, and perhaps obnoxiously so, in the same
mono-stylistic, soothing, and easy series of chord progressions as
Enya's limited range of capabilities. Beautiful? Yes. Dynamic and
refreshing? Hardly. A slight exaggeration of contemporary rock influence
rears its ugly head in the form of the pronounced snare drum, which pops
off a ballad-like accompaniment for the song. The score experiences a
little of this new-age effect as well, though Zimmer seems content
letting rip with his usual standard of explosive, pulse-pounding
orchestral melodrama aided by synthetic enhancements and choral gloom.
His music for
King Arthur is growling and menacing, glorious and
majestic, invigorated by a deeper force of energy not heard from Zimmer
for several years (and certainly absent in his initial
Pirates of the
Caribbean effort). This score truly is
Crimson Tide on
steroids, if such a thing could have been thought to exist. Zimmer's
familiar chord progressions from the days of
Backdraft and his
overblown sense of elegant drama is put from pen to paper (or rather,
keys to hard drive), with the simple theme bolstered by its own broad
scope, large swooshes of bass-heavy electronic accompaniment, masculine
choral interludes, and percussion activity bordering on insanity. How
much of the ensemble is organic and how much is electronically
manipulated doesn't really matter when the result is this blatantly
formulaic, a lack of counterpoint or nuance in brass performances making
them sound synthetic.
If you have never able to become accustomed to Zimmer's
evolution from
Crimson Tide to
The Rock or from
The
Peacemaker to
Gladiator, the last vestiges of his refreshing
early-1990's styles diminished or destroyed, then the music for
King
Arthur could very well strike you as being sociopathic. For fans who
grew up in the Media Ventures era of grand synthetic noise during the
late 1990's, however,
King Arthur will be a cornerstone of their
collections. Even beyond the scores mentioned above, Zimmer has made a
concerted effort to consolidate his action mannerisms and out-perform
even his most masculine style here. A barrage of drums at about 8:30
into "Woad to Ruin" (the conveyance of the score's major secondary
thematic material) will rock your system, and the ultra-dramatic
procession of harmony for all of the ensemble's contributors together at
about 4:45 in "Do You Think I'm Saxon?" presents Zimmer's overwrought
flair for the dramatic at a heightened level of fantasy as close to
Howard Shore's
The Lord of the Rings music as he will likely ever
be. The music for the icy lake battle is among Zimmer's most engaging in
years, with Brennan's vocals signifying a nearly tragic action cue that
culminates in a massive and unparalleled performance of the primary
theme. From start to finish, the score never loses confidence in the
weight of its own importance, making for a listening experience that, at
the very least, keeps you glued to the speakers if you have ever
appreciated the role that the Media Ventures sound has played in
Hollywood. There are, however, problems inherent in Zimmer's loyalty to
that Bruckheimer level of intensity that may cause some listeners to
balk at
King Arthur. The score is short on unique elements with
which to distinguish itself. Everything in its contents is
Crimson
Tide and
Gladiator all over again, but simply exaggerated and
bloated to even more awesome levels of layered power and performance
emphasis. There is no particularly interesting instrumentation worth
noting, a few ethnic woodwind tones and occasional clicking percussive
effects not alone able to increase the intelligence level of the
recording. An unfortunately short horn solo at about 4:00 into "Hold the
Ice," a fleeting string solo at 4:00 into "All of Them!" (followed by a
little James Horner-like flute work), as well as the occasional solo
vocals are all highlights, but Zimmer has gotten so wrapped up in the
overwhelming magnitude of the sound that he is able to create that he
loses sight of the subtleties that can often elevates scores such as
this one beyond its peers.
There are passages when
King Arthur raises
memories of the harsher moments from
The Rock, as well as images
of Bruce Willis, space shuttles, and killer asteroids. But whereas this
music could very well dismay listeners distraught with Zimmer's static
style, it should be noted that
King Arthur is still a very large
orchestral piece. Some have argued that this mode of Zimmer's music is
entirely synthetic while others insist that it is entirely orchestral.
In fact, both notions are wrong, and
King Arthur offers a better
than usual balance of the two, in several sequences reminding of the
blend of
The Lion King. The orchestra is always present, but
Zimmer utilizes keyboarded synthetics, electronic swooshes, and those
broad, low "buoaah" sounds that he often inserts in place of (for lack
of a better analogy) a gong for accents on key notes. Perhaps at some
point, Zimmer will finally abandon these synthetic enhancements to his
orchestral recordings and instead overdub the orchestra solely instead
of relying on the electronics for that little extra power, likely an
expensive idea when it comes to royalties, but a worthy one anyway.
Ironically, a taste of this more dynamic orchestral alternative was
realized when the main theme from
King Arthur was distractingly
resurrected in Harald Kloser's
10,000 BC in 2008, a score that
damn near ripped off the entire Zimmer melody but expresses it in
impressively superior symphonic colors. Listeners are blessed in the
case of
King Arthur, however, with a very wet mix for the album
presentation. Zimmer's electronics can be irritating when mixed dryly at
the forefront of the orchestra, but for
King Arthur they are
thoroughly washed into the orchestral recordings so that the electronics
sound much more like a supporting element than vice versa. Some of the
echoing that results when reproducing live performances comes as a
necessary good (or evil) of the Enya influences. The wet mix also
increases the scope of the score's sound as well, which is probably a
natural progression if Zimmer is continuing to seek the
ever-more-powerful evolution of his sound. Overall, the composition for
King Arthur, its performances, and the mixing of the recording
for the album offer plenty of downright beautiful moments for Zimmer
enthusiasts. The suites pieced together for the presentation
occasionally exhibit obvious transitions, a problem with the composer's
insistence on that format. Musically, Zimmer provides his trademark
action at a magnitude not heard before, arguably making it the best
"guilty pleasure" manifestation of his sound to exist. But it lacks a
level of structural complexity and orchestral authenticity that could
help a brainlessly engaging score such as
King Arthur transcend
the ranks of four-star music and evolve into something even better.
**** @Amazon.com: CD or
Download
| Bias Check: |
For Hans Zimmer reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 2.93
(in 101 reviews)
and the average viewer rating is 2.94
(in 279,214 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
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