David Amram's score for 1962's The Manchurian Candidate was a much more varied, diverse, and dynamic orchestral effort, including elements of jazz and Latin influence. Portman's effort is one of a distinctly singular emphasis on suspense, with none of Amram's stylistic or creative reach. Many critics have inevitably compared the 1962 and 2004 versions of the film, as they should, and the packaging of both scores together on one CD by the Varèse Sarabande label in 2004 begs the same comparison of Portman and Amram's work as well (the Amram score was previously unreleased officially). As mentioned before, the 1962 film featured a wider range of romance and leisure, which was part of why the film's rhetorical questions were so overwhelmingly unnerving for contemporary audiences. Amram responded by utilizing jazz, blues, and Latin variations on his title theme to offset the more suspenseful cues beneath the dialogue. He also took advantage of a handful of plucking string motifs to tingle our senses when the brainwashing was in effect on screen. The brute force of his martial political motif (summarized in "John Birch Lurch") remains a hair-raising, snare-driven representation of patriotism at its confused height, and along with his masterful handling of the unnerving strings and woodwinds in the underscore, Amram succeeds in making the music sound almost right but not quite so. As a listening experience, its successfully troublesome nature causes a somewhat uneasy reaction, especially if you attempt to enjoy it without any context. It's easy to hear in the music that Demme's version wasn't going to establish any new ground with the premise, but was instead concerned with taking the concept of The Manchurian Candidate and proposing it at a time when it could be even more outrageous while maintaining its believability. Rachel Portman, whose choice for this assignment (given her overwhelming career tendencies towards romance and comedy) was intriguing despite an already established collaboration with the director for films of varied tones, wrote her most ferocious and disturbed score for the concept. Unfortunately, her journey into full-blooded despair and brooding suspense does not particularly suit her style, and this remake score remains among the least interesting of her career.

Largely devoid of centralized thematic development and making no attempt to broaden the scope of the score as Amram had done, Portman's take on The Manchurian Candidate is one of very predictable, lackluster suspense that is understandable but disappointingly common in modern films. She does use her usual strings to waver at high ranges to represent the brainwashing aspects of the story, but the majority of the score boils and stirs through dissonant passages in the low string ranges. A deep, resonating bass string note is nearly a constant. The piano, as usual for Portman, is a central piece, meandering in her typical octave-friendly fashion underneath this action. The clear highlight of her work is "I am the Enemy, Major Marco," in which she combines a rolling and determined piano and string rhythm with a chorus and forceful brass motif. It is in this cue that a series of descending three-note figures solidifies itself as the score's primary theme. Other small moments of interest include a distant electric guitar in "What if All This is a Dream?" and a rumbling timpani climax in "There are Always Casualties in War." The Wyclef Jean song "Fortunate Son" in the remake is an awkward and disjointed piece of the puzzle, not fitting to any degree with either score and perhaps necessary only because of the pop sensationalism that came with post-9/11 "feel-good" Americanism. Hearing both the Amram and Portman scores back to back tells all you need to know about the different directions taken in the films, and despite their ability to suit their own projects well enough to suffice, it's easy to say that Portman's score lacks the complex emotional punch of Amram's original. From Varèse Sarabande's perspective, the relatively short running time of both scores made the duo-album seem like a good idea, and if you are a fan of the original film, this album arrangement is a treat. But the scores, especially with the Jean song bracketing the remake, can't be further apart in their style and technique, and the album therefore doesn't function well as one lengthy listening experience. You either buy it for the Amram score or the Portman one, for there is no common ground between them. Remember, however, that neither of these scores stands as well alone as they do with their finished projects. Portman fulfilled the duties of her job to a basic degree with her generic suspense underscore, but, as with the films themselves, you can't help but continue to admire the original.   @Amazon.com: CD or Download