| CLOSE WINDOW |
|
FILMTRACKS.COM
PRINTER-FRIENDLY VIEW 
Review of Pee-wee's Big Adventure (Danny Elfman)
FILMTRACKS RECOMMENDS:
Buy it... on the vintage Varèse Sarabande CD if you seek an
affordable, competent re-recording of the unquestionably memorable and
affably zany score that launched Danny Elfman's orchestral career.
Avoid it... on the 2011 Elfman/Burton 25th anniversary set unless you absolutely require all of the available film versions of this score, strangely assembled with some of the Varèse re-recordings into a presentation with intellectual merits but challenges to casual enjoyment.
FILMTRACKS EDITORIAL REVIEW:
Pee-wee's Big Adventure: (Danny Elfman) There is
unfortunately no way anybody outside of the Pee-wee Herman cult
following can look back at Paul Reubens and his Pee-wee phenomenon in
the 1980's without filtering the concept through the cautious lens of
skepticism regarding perversion. Reubens' act as Pee-wee Herman had been
immensely successful on television, the popularity of "The Pee-wee
Herman Show" leading to multiple feature films, supplemental appearances
on TV, and even live acts. Whereas cynical adults regarded the grown
man's child-like act as quirky as best, Herman generated a massively
loyal following with kids and like-minded adults, yielding significant
profitability involving the character in most of his endeavors. By the
early 1990's, however, Reubens' arrest on public masturbation charges
and the subsequent rangy police mugshot caused a sensation that launched
his skeptics (and late-night comics) into "I told you so" rants about
the perverted nature of Herman and Reubens. To make matters worse, he
was involved in a child pornography case in 2002 that cemented that
perception for much of the public. While Reubens has claimed only to be
a fan of vintage erotica of an unusual nature, none of it has actually
been proven to be what many had feared, and he was eventually able to
resurrect Pee-wee Herman on Broadway in the late 2000's. His first
feature film came in 1985, when Warner Brothers gave both Herman and
obscure illustrator and director Tim Burton their big breaks. Burton's
unique sensibilities immediately gained its own following, carrying over
fiscal success from Pee-wee's Big Adventure to Beetlejuice
in 1988. The breakneck pace of the Herman universe merged well with
Burton's knack for the bizarre, and although the studio had originally
sought to hire a proven comedy composer like Elmer Bernstein for
Pee-wee's Big Adventure, Danny Elfman of Oingo Boingo had one of
those "destiny" encounters with Burton and Reubens that won him the job.
They were aware and appreciative of Elfman's act as part of Oingo
Boingo, though it remained to be known whether Elfman could handle an
orchestral score that was much more complicated than anything the
musician had written for his band. A part of the unfinished movie had
been viewed against Bernard Herrmann's score for The 7th Voyage of
Sinbad, which was surprisingly effective in this context. This was
unknown to Elfman, who, in his interview with Burton and Reubens, per
chance happened to mention that the same piece from Herrmann's score
(the skeleton duel) was among his personal favorites in the history of
film music. And just like that, a collaboration was born.
As it turns out, Elfman was not only interested in the same morbidly styled aesthetics as Burton, but he was also similarly a fan of classic science-fiction and fantasy movies. Along with that focus came knowledge of the associated film scores, and Elfman professed to being enamored with not only Herrmann's striking style, but Nino Rota's music for Federico Fellini films as well (among all the other, even older genres from which he gleaned material for his bands through the years). Elfman had never been one of those child prodigies in the music industry (unlike Burton, whose illustrations for Disney going back to his teenage years were considered a bit too strange for the company), but he had tinkered with a multitude of instruments and had written some music for several lines earlier in his Oingo Boingo days. When he was surprised to receive the job for Pee-wee's Big Adventure, his initial reaction was to quit, for he was terrified about the prospect of writing up to twelve lines of action for 65 orchestral players. He persevered, however, hiring Oingo Boingo mate Steve Bartek to help orchestrate his ideas. In the end, it was Clint Eastwood regular Lennie Niehaus who really saved Elfman on Pee-wee's Big Adventure. The veteran composer gave Elfman and Bartek's ideas more realistic orchestrations and conducted the Hollywood musicians with ease. Elfman still remarks about grateful he was to Niehaus for shepherding the project to fruition without attempting to alter the zaniness of the original composition. Everyone involved with the production was eventually satisfied (if not thrilled) that Elfman, whose previous screen credits had existed mostly for songs licensed for films, pulled off a score that not only complimented Pee-wee Herman's silly, manic personality, but eventually came to symbolize it. You definitely hear influences from Rota and Herrmann in the music for Pee-wee's Big Adventure, though despite those connections, Elfman's own outrageously unpredictable personality of the 1980's is the dominant force. He wrote a series of scores during that period, extending into his mainstream debut with Beetlejuice, that relied heavily upon carnival-like pomp and rambunctious rhythms that still defy genre classification. Because of his experience traveling the world and playing in odd ensemble bands, he had a tendency to choose an extremely wide variety of instrumental colors for his film scores. Pee-wee's Big Adventure uses many of these strange tones, whether they come in the form of a harmonica, saxophone, accordion, or synthesizer. A reliance on bass rhythms on a powerfully thumping piano, however, is perhaps the most important connecting tissue in all of this work. The style is instantly recognizable, even decades later, as pure Elfman. Appreciating the music for Pee-wee's Big Adventure and being able to enjoy (or even tolerate) it are a separate matters though. There's something nostalgic about going back and hearing this score and its siblings; as Elfman will even admit, it's surprisingly simplistic compared to his compositions of just a few years later. But it's the crazy circus atmosphere in the music that dictates its make or break status with listeners. There are portions of Pee-wee's Big Adventure that are indeed difficult to sit through, despite being remarkably effective at emulating Herman on screen (not a surprising observation given that Paul Reubens is himself challenging to handle for any length of time). The score maintains its cult following within and outside of Elfman's own fanbase, however, because of a handful of memorable cues that survive the test of time. The primary theme is one of frenetic jazzy movement that foreshadows his lasting theme for "The Simpsons" and is best heard in full ensemble cues like "Main Title" and "Studio Chase," as well as keyboard-aided moments of fanciful optimism (and Reubens' singing) like "The Park Ride." The most notable secondary theme is introduced in "The Breakfast Machine" and is at once immensely likeable and frightfully psychotic. The snare-driven interlude within this sequence becomes an easily recognizable comedy motif throughout the rest of the score (especially "Dinosaur Dream" and "The Bath"). The "Clown Dream" sequence is a preview of Beetlejuice in many ways, especially with its unusual movements through keys within its rhythms and its use of an organ and tuba. These three primary ideas form the basis of the music most often associated with this score, comprising the suite heard on the first "Music for a Darkened Theatre" compilation from Elfman in 1990. The "Finale" suite combines these ideas with "Simone's Theme," a somber idea that wouldn't have been out of place in The Nightmare Before Christmas or Corpse Bride. For listeners seeking more of the score's straight forward orchestral glory sans outward humor, there are interesting nuggets to be heard. The glorious sense of victory in "The Bike Victory" has a touch of Bill Conti to its stature, while "Stolen Bike" is perhaps the clearest emulation of Herrmann's fearful tone from Psycho to ever exist (until Elfman ironically re-recorded the classic score in full over a decade later for the remake). On a smaller scale, "The Mall" has a Rota touch that will remind you of the best (or worst) of 1950's innocence. On the whole, it's important to remember that Pee-wee's Big Adventure is a ridiculous comedy movie and thus received Elfman's version of the Warner Brothers cartoon sound. For an inexperienced composer to crank out this music is amazing, but that doesn't necessarily make it palatable for many collectors of Elfman's later music of any genre. Unlike the other scores in the Burton/Elfman collaboration, Pee-wee's Big Adventure never received a proper album release. Elfman's music for the 1988 sequel, Big Top Pee-wee, was offered on CD, and for some listeners, this more mature evolution of the sound was enough. The Varèse Sarabande label re-recorded portions of Pee-wee's Big Adventure and the similarly unreleased Elfman score for Back to School the following year. The compilation album that resulted is short (only 34 minutes of running time split between the two scores), but the London recordings are actually more favorable in terms of capturing the spirit of Elfman's compositions than you might expect. On top of that, the quality of the London re-recordings is superior to that of the film versions, the players of the National Philharmonic Orchestra a little more exuberant in their emphasis of comedic elements. In terms of Pee-wee's Big Adventure, the early Varèse CD (joining an identical LP release) covers all of the score's most notable individual highlights, omitting some of redundant filler material contained usually in very, very short cues. The original film recording was resurrected after much effort in 2011 as part of the infamous set, "The Danny Elfman and Tim Burton 25th Anniversary Music Box," with the representations of Pee-wee's Big Adventure on that product limited to the full length of CD #1 and a rather unwieldy music box performance of the score's most memorable themes on CD #16. The presentation of the score proper on CD #1 is a bit awkward, though it seems to reflect the personal wishes of the composer. After the film versions were cleaned up as best as possible, he created an arrangement of the major cues in film order and placed some alternate and bonus recordings at the end. During the chronological presentation, Elfman replaced five of the film versions with those from the Varèse album ("Stolen Bike," "Hitchhike," "Simone's Theme," "Dinosaur Dream," and "Studio Chase"), causing shifts in the middle of the album to a disparate ambient sound quality. Then, he included the film versions of those five cues at the very end of the product. Granted, the London recordings of "Stolen Bike" and "Studio Chase" are in many ways vibrant and superior, but they are out of place with the surrounding Los Angeles cues. The sum of that first CD in the Elfman/ Burton set is still only 48 minutes, and it would have been ideal had it included the entirety of the film version, in order, followed by the entirety of the relevant material from the Varèse album. As it is, it's a solid addition to the collections of fans still enthusiastic about early Elfman works, though by no means perfect. Of course, it's not alone worth the $500 price tag of the set; that product is scathingly reviewed separately at Filmtracks. You'll need to sell all of your kids' favorite bikes to afford that monster. ***
TRACK LISTINGS:
1986 Varèse Album:
Total Time: 33:45
2011 Warner Set: Total Time: 51:17
* previously unreleased ** re-recorded version
NOTES & QUOTES:
The inserts of both albums include minimal information about the film and
score. The 2011 Warner set features some notes from Elfman about his choices of
music for inclusion on the product.
Copyright ©
2011-2024, Filmtracks Publications. All rights reserved.
The reviews and other textual content contained on the filmtracks.com site may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without the prior written authority of Christian Clemmensen at Filmtracks Publications. All artwork and sound clips from Pee-wee's Big Adventure are Copyright © 1986, 2011, Varèse Sarabande, Warner Brothers Records and cannot be redistributed without the label's expressed written consent. Page created 5/26/11 (and not updated significantly since). |
