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Rosenman |
RoboCop 2: (Leonard Rosenman) Bankruptcy was the
central theme of 1990's
RoboCop 2. Its studio, Orion Pictures,
was desperately trying to push this movie as means to avoid it, the city
of Detroit is predicted in the plot to suffer its own (which actually
happened in 2013, amazingly), and the graphic violence shown on screen
is morally bankrupt to the extent that the movie was received as a
parody of its predecessor. Lead actor Peter Weller had to be dragged
back into the famed metal suit for this wretched sequel, while director
Paul Verhoeven and most of his crew abandoned the effort. Whereas the
original
RoboCop was a serious study in identity and sacrifice,
the sequel was a simple good-versus-bad gunslinger fantasy with even
more gruesome killings and ridiculous caricatures appropriate for a dumb
comic book. With Detroit indeed on the verge of bankruptcy and owing
everything to the corporation that actually runs the show, society is
plunged into deeper drug-related crime as warring factions struggle to
control the city's dark fate. Inevitably, a crime lord's brain is
removed from his body and put into a mechanical form to battle the
titular hero, but not before people are vivisected and mutilated in
other ways for the pleasure of the audience. Unlike the famously popular
melting bad-guy scene in
RoboCop, the sequel's depictions were
not as well received, and the film's only lasting distinction is that it
isn't as horrid as
RoboCop 3. With veteran director Irvin
Kershner closing out his career with
RoboCop 2, along with him
came his friend, composer Leonard Rosenman, by the director's absolute
insistence. Basil Poledouris' score for
RoboCop was by no means a
classic, a rather brutally toned approach to the grim subject of the
film and one that espoused the composer's raw edge. But it worked.
Rosenman was not impressed by Poledouris' score or by Poledouris
generally as a composer, however. While Rosenman was known for having an
insufferably high opinion about his own musical prowess, his comments
about
RoboCop remain astounding. He said at the time, "I thought
the score for the first film was so absolutely dreadful. There was no
sense of the orchestra, no sense of drama. It was just a dopey, lousy
score and it just didn't work. I'm not a fan of Poledouris. The end
credits, which is the best opportunity for any composer, was just pasted
together. My end title is a real piece of music, and the middle part is
something very different from most film scores."
There is tremendous irony in Rosenman's comments about
Poledouris and
RoboCop, of course, stemming from the fact that
while the sequel score's composition may be technically superior at
every level, it's far worse as music for this concept. There is mastery
to be heard in Rosenman's thematic constructs for RoboCop himself, and
even some of his secondary ideas are frightfully overthought. The way
Rosenman shifts effortlessly between four motifs for RoboCop and adapts
these ideas throughout the score is extremely admirable, and the writing
is a feast for musicians looking to study music theory. Sadly, however,
Rosenman's music, while impressive, is absolutely misdirected, and it
only worsens the film's major problems. The score is one of pure parody,
abandoning all seriousness conveyed by Poledouris and instead producing
a brightly exuberant and outright stupid musical demeanor for the lead
character. For listeners with little exposure to Rosenman's long, highly
awarded career, thoughts of the overly cheery
Star Trek IV: The
Voyage Home are apt here, because the composer infuses the same
sense of playful silliness into the world of RoboCop, with even darker
portions for the villains never achieving any sense of gravity. The
composer's array of orchestra and synthesizers is too ponderous, the
application of an electric guitar to the main villain because of that
character's affinity for Elvis music worthy of an eyeroll. Erratic
infusions of jazz in "City Mayhem" are annoyingly disjointed. The use of
four soprano female voices nestled in the woodwind section is highly
interesting, especially when they emphasize the fantasy of brain
transplants, as in "Creating the Monster." (Rosenman's application of
dissonant woodwind layers and synthetics to this scene are humorously
inferior to Poledouris' use of synthetics to represent the machines
involved.) The absence of a string section for much of the score,
causing Rosenman to lean heavily on brass and woodwinds, causes an odd
disconnect in the music to enhance the future dystopia. But all of these
intriguing choices are rendered moot by the composer's failure to
capture any seriousness of consequence during his music. Moments of
fright, like "Monster at Meeting," are supplied music with the pomp
better suited for a Godzilla movie. A four-note pulsating growl for the
villain's suspense passages, as in "Goodbye Angie," is a strangely
simplistic diversion from the otherwise intelligent constructs. The
composer amazingly throws atonal elements and unpleasant polychords at
the movie while still managing not to achieve convincing horror.
Perhaps the greatest weakness of Rosenman's approach to
RoboCop 2 is his terrible handling of action sequences. It's
astonishing to behold how such cues could have so much musical
complexity but still fail at their task. The composer relies heavily
upon the three main portions of his RoboCop theme here, and they are
summarized well at the outset of the "Overture: Robocop 2" suite. The
first of these is a repetitive burst of five notes mostly on key,
appropriate for a cheesy 1970's television cop show and adapted
liberally. After that, Rosenman launches into his "call and answer" pair
of motifs that emulates urban Bill Conti heroics, the first an ascending
six-note phrase that also repeats like the initial rhythmic device
preceding it. The "answer" portion of this duo is three notes that
forever doom this score, as Rosenman could not resist asking his
sopranos to sing "Ro-bo-Cop" to these notes in an insipidly asinine
tone. (It doesn't help in retrospect that the "Captain Underpants"
franchise used those same three notes for the "Underpants!" lyric.) In
most of the score, this "answer" motif is instrumental only, but the
effect is the same. Rosenman goes further, developing a fourth section
of the main theme that is a lyrical bridge with glorious harmonies that
belong absolutely nowhere in this movie, raising the closest bad
memories from similar jubilance in
Star Trek IV. The general idea
might not have been so repugnant had Rosenman not made this material
sound like a cheap knock-off of a heroic John Scott identity. These four
motifs would be perfectly placed in one of Conti's
Rocky scores,
for they treat RoboCop as if he's a one-dimensional boxer with none of
complexity of his identity issues. Rosenman betrays seriousness even
further by placing a few source-like parody cues directly into the
score, including "Robo Fanfare" and "Fanfare Suite," which are so
obnoxiously riddled with bad humor as to drive a person insane. Along
the Godzilla line of thought, he also recorded "Monster Theme Stings"
for the movie. Those are obvious flaws however; perhaps the biggest
tragedy outside of the main theme in this score is the complete lack of
engagement in the cues meant to address Alex Murphy's agony, a cue like
"Robo Memories" totally failing to register any emotional response.
Overall,
RoboCop 2 is a fascinating work but a horrifyingly
inappropriate one for its film, the "Ro-bo-Cop" female vocals alone
disqualifying the whole. As the composer would say, "it just didn't
work." A standard 30-minute album from Varèse Sarabande in 1990
was followed by a limited, "Deluxe" edition in 2019 that expands the
misery to 70 minutes. Appropriately, Rosenman's superior skills were
replaced by the "dreadful" Poledouris for
RoboCop 3, yielding the
best score of the trilogy.
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The insert of the 1990 album contains cue-by-cue notes from the composer. That of the 2019
album offers extensive information about the film and score.