It was not often that Serra scored films outside of his partnership with director Luc Besson, but given that this new Rollerball was once again set in a mythical European/Asian setting, Serra's habit of producing a pseudo Middle Eastern style to his electronics would have seemed to be more than appropriate. Such an example of this Middle Eastern influence can be heard in one of his more popular mainstream scores for the American public, The Fifth Element. For Rollerball, however, Serra would push the limits of his rhythmic loops and synthetic instrumentation, exploring a much more abrasive level of harsh attitude. Most of the score cues in the film accompany the violent scenes of the game in action, so fans of Serra's more contemplative, mood-driven solo work or fluid scores should beware of the monstrous personality concocted here. If you listen to enough Serra material, you begin to hear 30 to 40 stock sounds in his library of synthetic samples that the composer utilizes to construct many of his works (some of which are samples that other people created in the first place). This time, he throws them all at you with unrelenting force, often on top of driving electric guitar rhythms or deep bass droning of significant volume. A somewhat retro, Hammond organ approach is offset by screeching electric guitars and a crashing series of percussive blasts throughout these action cues. A distinct absence of harmony leads to the appropriate level of discontent that one has while watching the horrific game, and yet the pace of the music is so dauntingly pounding that you can't help but allow it to suck you into its atmosphere. A handful of less engaging underscored cues does allow a brief respite from the action, and these are often the times when a Middle Eastern vocal (such as in "Serokin") or a somewhat East-Asian choice of electronic instrumentation (such as in "Oportu") heightens the appeal of the score beyond its typical employment of brute force.

The overall attitude of the Rollerball score is deceitful at its worst and tragic at its best, with the film's cold, careless, and conniving corporate environment influencing every last cue in Serra's score. No matter the rhythm of the cue, an intense, industrial pounding is conveyed in the music, thrusting this hopeless environment down your throat with every indiscriminant hit. The anger conveyed in parts of this score is convincing, with motifs of frustration often dying in unceremonious fashion. Even the somewhat less driving finale cues are still drenched in sound effects that begin in upper ranges and slowly descend in tone, pulling the emotions in a downward spiral to the very last moment. Serra toys with the listener by inserting some of his usual sounds that are supposed to represent positive emotions, like the sleigh bells, beginning to appear late in the score opposite likewise depressing cues. For Serra's fans, this will be perhaps an interesting listening experience, but for film score collectors in general, Rollerball will baffle you with Serra's continued disregard for the basic rules of cue structure or scene change. Even aside from Serra's inability to maintain a theme in many of his scores, Rollerball is among the worst examples of a score that has no cohesive element whatsoever, playing on album like a solo work that follows none of the established customs of film music. Its aimless, meandering, droning attitude has no distinct beginning and end. Add to that four heavy songs (one of which an intolerable Japanese rock song with old video game sounds and two other songs by L.A. sleaze rockers Beautiful Creatures and Rappagariya) and you get a very forgettable European product. Even if Serra was successful in harnessing the negative power and emotion of the game in Rollerball, he continues to provide music that is all over the map, rendering the score useless in situations when it needs to foreshadow an event, accentuate fine points in a cue, or even make references to other scenes in the film. It's a horrendous failure, both on screen and on album.  *   @Amazon.com: CD or Download