An extremely vibrant recording for a full orchestra is laced liberally with eclectic ethnic influences, some of them totally nonsensical but amusingly exotic for a cruise setting with bizarre characters. While the symphonic elements do most of the heavy lifting, expect to encounter usage of castanets, accordion, sitar, duduk, exotic flute, acoustic guitar, celeste, dampened piano, boys' choir, and a solo female voice. While things like the castanets are particularly impactful, it's the voices that provide some of the score's highlights. There is some Sissel Kyrkjebø emulation in the female vocals (no irony is lost there in the subject matter), and the opening track is sung by the British boy soprano group Libera, which is a regular collaborator with Muramatsu on some of their high-profile performances. Orchestrally, various woodwinds and chopping cello (sometimes waltz) formations are frequently accessed for elements of mystery while the composer can't resist his own piano performances for the romantic side. Muramatsu has long been admired for his capabilities on piano, and he uses the instrument here much like Naoki Sato does in similar circumstances. Also emulating Sato's methodology is Muramatsu's layering of light, slappy percussion to air out the soundscape, applying clanging metallic percussion in a seeming emulation of busy kitchen sounds. (This technique in "Conclusive Evidence" is actually pretty cool in its extended rhythmic motions.) On the synthetic side, the composer offers tasteful electric bass and drum kit at times for contemporary depth representing the ship's appeal (think Mark Mancina but without the Caribbean element), though these contributors are never particularly intrusive. None of these performers supplies more than passing dissonance in what passes as an effortless listening experience. There are a few suspenseful crescendos for strings here and there, but their tone remains fairly light. The score apart from the film is therefore a breezy delight for most of its length, punctuated by occasional moments of tonally magnificent thematic passages for both the cruise's ambient luxury and the love story between the two leads. The melodic structures are typically very simple, following vintage Randy Edelman-like tendencies that are smooth and undemanding. The only obviously recurring two themes by Muramatsu for In Love and Deep Water involve the vessel and cruising concepts in general. The romantic melodies are all over the map in the score, however, leaving the work without one overarching identity that would have benefitted it.

The first of the two cruise-oriented themes bursts with energy at 0:36, 1:07, and 1:58 into "Starboard," with an almost heroic, ascendant B phrase. That theme shifts to an action suspense mode in "Silence" and again transitions into a straight romance idea in "Sailing into Love" with voice. The second theme for the vessel is heard throughout "Welcome to the Cruise" with a lovely and romantic closing swell. "Cruise Ship" reprises this theme with even more character borrowed, most amusingly, from Edelman's Kindergarten Cop, and that closing swell from "Welcome to the Cruise" is turned into a full-blown fanfare at 1:58. The secondary phrase is nicely boiled down to suspenseful incarnations throughout "Investigation." A waltz-driven theme of intrigue for the corrupt familial matters of the plot counters in various guises throughout and, if not for this identity's constant shifting of progressions, most listeners would likely consider it representative of the score as a whole. Highly romanticized on a boys' choir reminiscent of a James Newton Howard fantasy score during all of "In Love and Deep Water," Muramatsu plants the seed for this theme's eventual incarnation in "Ominous" and during slight hints in the latter half of "The Will." It erupts in the first half of "Jealous Texts" with more than a little nod to Sato's Masquerade Hotel, and it bookends "Closing Credits - In Love and Deep Water" in similar form. A separate family motif is introduced in "The Family" but never goes anywhere thereafter. The real money is made by Muramatsu in this score's singular romantic highlights, starting with a melody at 0:36 into "Maybe in Love" on piano, one that develops into a more mature identity at 2:14 for the full ensemble. Different ideas are explored in the two halves of the outrageously beautiful "Reality," and yet another different, softer melody is explored in "Hesitation." Returning on piano to the more tentative melody of "Maybe in Love" is "Beyond the Horizon," while another related theme, this time descending, is revealed in the literally muted "Little Heart." A nebulous combination of these themes occupies the middle of "Closing Credits - In Love and Deep Water." The lack of one or two consolidated love themes in In Love and Deep Water is a detriment to the score overall, but that doesn't diminish the undeniable attractiveness of those individual moments. In the end, this score is fun in its flamboyant moments of glitz, gorgeous in its piano-led romantic highlights, and proficient in the suspense portions. A dynamic, 53-minute presentation is available digitally worldwide and on CD from Rambling Records in Japan. It's a charming experience that misses a top rating because its wayward thematic narrative.  ****   @Amazon.com: CD or Download