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| Pemberton |
Masters of the Universe: (Daniel Pemberton) For
years, another live-action adaptation of the classic 1980's cartoon
"He-Man and the Masters of the Universe" was caught in production hell,
but the immense success of Mattel's
Barbie movie helped push
2026's
Masters of the Universe across the finish line. The
concept has enjoyed a prolific second life on the small screen, renewed
cartoon versions of the original story bringing the characters to
another generation. Still, the entire "He-Man" franchise is still the
domain the Generation X males, and everything about its production in
the newer
Masters of the Universe is saturated with that
nostalgia. At the very least, the filmmakers learned from the later
movies in the
Transformers franchise that sticking true to the
look and feel of the original concept was the winning formula, so this
movie takes great pains to represent the world of Eternia in faithful
light. This is an origin story wrapping all the backstory elements of
the cartoon into one movie to help the Prince Adam/He-Man character
discover his calling and prepare for a lifetime of battle against
equally steroid-using villains. Interestingly, the production's
over-reliance upon hitting every possible reference point on screen ("you boob!"),
including even a Dolph Lundgren cameo, landed with a relative thud with
audiences, who underperformed the critical reaction by forcing the
studio to rely upon streaming revenue to cover the immense gap caused by
poor theatrical returns. One particular misstep with the picture is that
it kills both good and bad characters this time, suggesting that the
concept's original morals are no longer profitable, which is a damning
statement on 2020's society that may turn off some viewers. Even when
taking into account the nostalgia factor,
Masters of the Universe
is a poorly paced film with tiresome effects, and it also cannot decide
how serious it wants to be with its own material. The film uses a
handful of really awful song placements that cement its dumb comedy. The
score's narrative isn't challenged by these outside placements as much
as
Project Hail Mary was for composer Daniel Pemberton, however,
but he still found himself hopelessly trapped just like the film, stuck
between traditional fantasy and comedy in his approach.
The music of the original 1980's cartoon is dated in
retrospect, certainly, but only because of the limited rendering
capabilities of its era for composers Shuki Levy, Haim Saban, and Erika
Lane (the last of which actually series creator Lou Scheimer using an
alias). The cartoon's music wasn't itself a time capsule of the decade,
nor did it approach the topic as one of parody. The bulk of its outward
comedy music was associated with the Orko character, but that was
because he is a literal court fool. Pemberton and the filmmakers somehow
got lost in the glory of the
Guardians of the Galaxy model and
thought that
Masters of the Universe could benefit from the same
shameless gaze backwards at the pop tones of yesteryear even though that
hadn't existed here, outside of perhaps the song that accompanied the
"She-Ra" transition in that universe. For the 2026 film, Pemberton's
stance yields a parody score that takes nothing seriously. This strategy
was completely by intent, as the composer recognized the ridiculous
nature of the movie and played almost everything in its music as
flamboyant and "maximalist," as he says. His intent was to send the
Generation X men back to their childhood, but the music doesn't do that.
It instead creates an alternate universe that never existed and
diminishes the nostalgia factor of the concept. He scored the 1980's
rather than the concept itself, causing most of the score's weaknesses
as a direct result. A lack of focus is also a near-fatal flaw of the
score, in part because of the song placements but also due to everything
else thrown in the mix. Even within the score, the insertion of outside
references is hit and miss, a cue from Pemberton's "The Man From
U.N.C.L.E." joining a piano rendition of the Cure song "Boys Don't Cry"
in the cue of that name. (Aaron Zigman receives credit for the snippet
of the movie
The Notebook seen by Adam's roommate as well.) And
then you have some original ideas from Levy, Saban, and Scheimer for the
end of the film as references to both shows in the franchise's history
that were mandatory inclusions. Pemberton struggled with just how much
of the original show's theme music to reference, and he selected the
David Arnold
Casino Royale technique of letting the character
earn the known identity in the end.
For some audiences, Pemberton's concept of "fun" in
Masters of the Universe will be a welcome change. For others, the
parody aspect will reek of stupidity through most of it. There is
significant technical mastery at work in the score, but it may be
swallowed by its flashy style. The orchestra is 80 members strong with
100 singers in support, but its mix is secondary. A hefty rock band
presence is the star of the show, multiple guitars and drum kit in the
lead. Guitarist Brian May of the band Queen receives lead credit and
generates much of the outright parody. Synthesizers also play their
expected role, as does some post-processing manipulation. The brass is
seemingly displaced in the mix, never offering any meaningful heroics;
its best moment ironically comes with the cartoon theme at the end. No
uniquely impactful instrumental color outside of the guitars is heard.
(A nyckelharpa is buried in the mix.) An adult choir is present in all
the expected fantasy and royal-oriented passages, but the mix pushes
those vocals further back than necessary and strongly emphasizes the
band elements. The electronic emphasis within the villain material
really damages this score in places, making it almost insufferably
obnoxious. Thematically, several new ideas exist in the work, and hints
to the original cartoon abound. Pemberton often reharmonizes the
references to the latter to slightly obscure them. Sadly, his new themes
are poorly developed outside of the main pair that form the basis of the
"Eternia" overture. That main theme for the concept as a whole largely
represents the sword's power and Eternia's existence as a kingdom. The
main phrasing for Eternia is a cheesy ascending identity that is fine in
and of itself as a structure. Its interlude, a descending five-note
phrase loosely resembling the end of the secondary cartoon theme's
sequence, likely represents He-Man's sword specifically. The cartoon
theme resolves the phrase to key whereas this one takes it to an
anticipatory minor third, so some listeners won't make any overt
connection between them. Heard immediately on choir and pulsating synths
in "Eternia" for the logos, you receive extremely simplistic cycles of
the idea right off the bat that makes it very memorable. Some guitar
improvisations by May break up the tiresome repetition of the main
phrase before the interlude sequence at 2:10 introduces the descending
cartoon connection.
Pemberton's main theme for
Masters of the Universe
remains the driving force of the work, softened for harp and acoustic
guitar at the outset of "Young Adam" before an eye-rolling reference to
the Queen song "We Will Rock You" on clapping and timpani. The medieval
tones of the interlude sequence on recorder with this reference are
silly, the tone of the cue for this scene particularly inappropriate for
the Adam's emotional suffering. The composer closes the cue with a
fragmented orchestral segment in better despair. Adapted into a variant
for noble action early in "The Battle for Eternos," the theme yields to
the interlude and offers some transient coolness to the cue's latter
half. It then supplies the tragedy in the choral midsection of "Skeletor
and King Randor" while the interlude leads fantasy optimism in "Portal
to Earth" towards a massive choral and guitar climax before switching to
snazzier, bluesy attitude on guitars in "Comic Store Heist." The main
theme obtusely drives the brass rock tones in "Freeway Escape" in a
distinct non-action mode that fails to attract, but the heavy synth
rendition in "Folding Space (Eternia)" reprises the opening overture for
some relief. It's not long before Pemberton reduces it to tepid
orchestral melodrama with choir in the overly somber "Eternos in Ruins,"
that stance stripped down even further into industrial fragments in
"What's Left of Us." Staggering with its progressions only in the
ultra-hip swagger of "Prison Break," the theme suffers because its
guitar overlays in these cues are extremely annoying and not exciting at
all. The idea slows its chords further for the non-thematic journey
music in "Conflict Territory," and the interlude builds to a crescendo
throughout "The Power of Grayskull" with choir and guitar, some May
improvisations in this cue taking away from its impact. It laces the
margins of the boneheaded action rhythms "He-Man vs Trap-Jaw" and "Sky
Fight," both cues consolidating the interlude sequence into He-Man's
action variant for the film. Barely intact in the quiet conversational
moment for choir and plucking in "You Are He" and "See Another Morning,"
this material opens "Journey to Snake Mountain" with improved propulsion
and better instrumental balance. Less successful is its use of both
parts through the mindless action early in "Fight for Snake Mountain,"
the He-Man variant of the interlude sequence laboring to establish
itself.
In the final third of the film, the main theme continues
to tangle with other material without as much cohesion. The interlude
shifts to a lighter, pensive mode in "The Universe Shall Quake in My
Shadow," and the main melody thrashes with new underlying rhythmic force
and wailing guitars in "Battle Cat and He-Man," the interlude sequence
never really getting started in the latter half. It punctuates the Teela
material in "The Witch and the Warrior Goddess" while the He-Man variant
on the interlude gains momentum in the middle of "The Sword of Power;"
the climax at the end of this cue isn't as powerful as hoped despite the
use of the famed two-note motif from the cartoon. Heroically charging at
2:09 into "Skeletor vs He-Man," the theme lets rip with its primary
phrasing in full guitar and choral glory in "Return to Eternia" and
intermingles with the cartoon theme in "A Job for He-Man" for a moment.
The most prominent secondary theme in the score's first half belongs to
Skeletor, and it almost seems as though Pemberton was scoring
electricity with this character as a representation of his powers.
Three-note figures are often slurred for effect here, a total opposite
of cartoon's staccato theme for the character even if the basic
progressions are similar. Extremely annoying when utilized at the higher
ranges of the soundscape, this theme is a major detraction, Pemberton
losing this identity's clarity halfway through the score, unfortunately.
It debuts on whining synths or guitars through "The Battle for Eternos,"
a truly unlistenable cue in parts, and it electronically slithers right
away with distortion in "Skeletor and King Randor" and continues through
subtle metallic banging late in the cue. The villain identity contorts
into an ascending figure of whining guitars in "Get the Sword" and opens
"Mulched" without any variance or distinction, and it certainly has no
victorious moment for Moss Man's death. It blends with the main theme
for a solid combination in "Journey to Snake Mountain," and its
three-note figures become a raging action mechanism in the otherwise
bonehead "Fight for Snake Mountain." Sadly, this material doesn't have
much impact upon "Let's Have a Look" or "Skeletor vs He-Man," both
hugely missed opportunities to revitalize the theme at the height of
Skeletor's positioning over Adam in the narrative. So much of
Pemberton's suspense music in this score is completely nondescript that
one has to wonder why intelligent adaptations of his themes were not
better engrained at such textural moments.
The remaining new themes in
Masters of the
Universe are surprisingly ineffective at making clear associative
connections, with some characters simply left out of the equation
entirely. The material for the king and queen is the sentimental element
for family and royal heritage, perhaps introduced on choir late in
"Young Adam" but the progressions there more likely utilizing the main
Eterna theme. The actual music for these characters loses its structural
battle against the agony in "Skeletor and King Randor" and supplies
bland
The Lord of the rings-styled choral lamentation in "Enter
Snake Mountain." It extends itself narratively in the restrained,
underwhelming "I Wanted to Protect You" and has some marginal influence
in the choral implications of "The Sword of Power." It also subtly
factors at the start of "Return to Eternia" but is quickly subsumed.
More redeeming is an ascending elegy for Man-At-Arms with choir in "You
Failed" that recurs pleasantly in the middle of "See Another Morning."
Given this character's own redemption story, the relative lack of
additional performance inflection for his presence is disappointing in
the picture. Also a significantly missed opportunity comes with the
musical representation of Teela, who could have used a far more
memorable theme given her prominence in the narrative. What you do hear
for the character comes in very subtle woodwinds in "Such Good Friends"
with little resonance whatsoever for moment. That material transitions
into a hard rock identity in "The Witch and the Warrior Goddess" and
seemingly receives a quick reminder in the latter half of "Return to
Eternia." Likewise lost in the mix are any secondary ideas for Beast
Man, Evil-Lyn, or Trap Jaw, all of whom have enough screen time to
deserve at least some kind of stinger effect, if not something more
substantial. A squealing electric guitar sound at the outset of "You
Failed" that might be for Trap Jaw is not reprised in "He-Man vs
Trap-Jaw." Nothing mystical or alluring for Evil-Lyn in "The Witch and
the Warrior Goddess" was developed to satisfaction as to suggest that
any identity for the character was even intended. The absence of
distinctly primal percussion for Beast Man's early pursuit sequences on
Earth is a tremendously missed opportunity, that entire section's music
losing several chances to allude to future conflict as well. The
Sorceress is also left without any unique instrumental tone. Perhaps
most disappointingly, none of the fresh themes really overlaps
intelligently in this score despite the ample hand-to-hand combat on
display making musical interplay a logical solution.
For concept enthusiasts, the discontent with any or all
of the aspects of the music described above could be soothed by
Pemberton's employment of the cartoon's theme in
Masters of the
Universe. In this case, his strategy is perfect even if his
execution is as heavy-handed in the parody mode like everything else.
The ascending, two-note "He-Man" vocals to key from the classic theme
are elongated at first as an accent but progressively lose notes as they
consolidate on the actual two notes. This motif keenly makes itself
noticed for the first time in the middle of "See Another Morning" as
Man-At-Arms tells He-Man of his place in Eternia, and it really starts
to impact the score as a direct allusion in the strumming guitar and
brass rhythms of "Conflict Territory." Closing the action of "Fight for
Snake Mountain," the motif rises to its eventual, smoothened form at the
end of "The Sword of Power." This technique is reprised at the height of
"Skeletor vs He-Man" as well. Emphasized as appropriate against the main
cartoon theme in "A Job for He-Man," Pemberton closes the film with its
choral phrasing, but it's ruined against so many rock layers on top that
you can't easily hear the lyrics. That cue is still the vital payoff for
everything that came before, developed over the entirety of "A Job for
He-Man" but arguably overemphasized on choir and guitars. The brass
alone would have been more than adequate for the performance as the
wailing guitars aren't authentic to the show. Overall, there is zero
subtlety in any of this music, which may be fine, but it overstays its
welcome because of that lack of tact. The action music is not exciting
and the suspense material isn't scary, sometimes striking the wrong
emotions and at other times oddly boring. The emphasis on 1980's cheese
is where this music loses its authenticity. There's nothing of the
decade actually seen in the film, so why is it in the score? The closing
"Masters of the Universe" song adaptation is all the more evidence that
the mark was missed, a little too much
Spider-Verse irreverence
and flair from Pemberton in this more wholesome equation. It's extremely
unfortunate to hear the composer fail to hit the right personality of
the film after his immense success for
Project Hail Mary just
prior. This is just dumb music, its action especially ridiculous. The
album can be a very tedious experience because of its parody explosions,
perhaps the only well-balanced moment of style coming in "Journey to
Snake Mountain." A mid-credits cue using a piece of the "She-Ra" cartoon
theme is not contained on that product, nor is the end credits version
of "Eternia," which was released separately as a single. Some listeners
will appreciate the retro groove, but it's too artificial unless you
remember that the film is actually a parody.
@Amazon.com: CD or
Download
- Music as Written for the Film: ***
- Music as Heard on Album: **
- Overall: ***
There exists no official packaging for the digital album.
