: (Trevor Rabin) One of the most
madly hyped films of the 2000's prior to its release due to tremendous
internet buzz early in 2006,
surprisingly
revealed itself to be a box office disappoint for New Line Cinema. The
ridiculous nature of the concept and the intensity of lead star Samuel
L. Jackson had caused internet forums to go insane with anticipation for
the movie, and the studio went back and re-shot several scenes and
solicited songs from amateur bands online in response. The film was
intentionally made edgier in its revisions to meet perceived audience
demand, including the addition of the infamous Jackson line, "Enough is
enough! I have had it with these motherfucking snakes on this
motherfucking plane!" That line has been parodied ever since, carrying
what little lasting strength the pop culture flash in a pan initially
caused. Jackson plays an FBI agent escorting a witness from Hawaii to
Los Angeles, but all hell breaks loose when a crate of dangerous snakes
is released onboard (by the henchmen of the crime syndicate leader whom
the witness will testify against) with the idea of killing the flight's
occupants and bringing it down. Deaths typical to slasher movies are
seen in succession, starting with people having sex in a lavatory, and
eventually the captain and co-pilot are killed and the remaining
passengers, led by Jackson's agent, have to contend with the menace of
the snakes and landing the plane. The movie received unexpectedly
positive critical reviews, but the internet buzz didn't amount to enough
viewership to make
the memorable phenomenon
everyone thought it would be. Along for the ride is composer Trevor
Rabin, whose career has a long history of action music, including plenty
in the air, but comparatively limited on straight horror. The director,
David R. Ellis, has never maintained a collaboration with any composer
(using John Ottman and Brian Tyler, among others), and Rabin seemed like
an odd fit for the assignment at the time.
The more you think about Jackson's kick-ass personality
on screen in
Snakes on a Plane, the more Rabin's equally muscular
writing style makes sense. Interestingly, though, the composer was
forced to leave behind many of his trademark writing traits for
Snakes on a Plane, stretching into the generic fright territory
and thus diminishing the listenability that he usually instills upon his
scores with easy harmony, power anthems, or, at the very least, obvious
thematic continuity. The film wouldn't allow for Rabin to convey a sense
of massive grandeur to go with his horror material, as he did in another
ridiculous "Jackson versus freaky animal" situation,
Deep Blue
Sea. Thus, the score is sufficient but undeniably boring. Perhaps
the most interesting aspect of Rabin's approach to
Snakes on a
Plane, however, is the fact that it is substantially orchestral.
Whereas one would expect him to pound and rip with grating synthetic
tones, the majority of the work, outside of the use of pads and samples
for percussion, is organic. He even attempts to apply some intelligent
instrumental performance techniques to represent the snakes as well,
instructing those players to pluck with prickly, sinister tones
alongside equally uncomfortable woodwind sounds. The handling of the
latter section is remarkably adept at times, with the flutes' usual
wailing for moments of terror sometimes yielding to solos for oboe and
bassoon that are unnecessary sophisticated for this context; listen to
the final minute or so in "Serpent Situation" for such highlights. He
keeps the listener on edge with this skittish and nervous method of
staccato performances, intensifying them by accelerating their meter
when approaching a kill on screen. You can hear this dominant sound
immediately in "Snakes on Crack" and through later renditions that add a
layer of grinding metallic sound effects to the high range shrieking of
the nebulous motif. Rabin does offer two themes to
Snakes on a
Plane, but not with the consistency you'd expect from him or want to
hear. There is no narrative arc within this score, in part because the
two themes are never given the opportunity to develop much beyond the
tone of their initial identities.
The first theme in
Snakes on a Plane is an
extremely simplistic series of three notes, conveyed on keyboard in
contemporary mode to represent a quiet sense of modern coolness. This
theme is heard in the middle portions of "Snakes on Crack" and "Serpent
Situation," the end of "Snakes Kill," and in the latter half of the
closing "Evacuation" suite. The other theme is one that recalls more
wholesome Rabin ideas of the past (starting and ending on key), a
hopeful melody for humanity contained mostly to the beginnings of
"Snakes Kill" and "Evacuation." Outside of these thematic applications,
Snakes on a Plane is a completely anonymous score. Aside from the
gentler attitude of "Snakes Kill" and "Serpent Situation," it's a
shock-fest that does little to remain a place in your memory. A dose of
rock coolness is infused in the electric guitar and/or snazzy loops of
"Escape" and "Snake Kabob" (with some assistance from Rabin's assistant,
Paul Linford). The first minute of "Evacuation" closes with a statement
of the humanity theme in brazen Bill Conti form, complete with rock
percussion and hip trumpet counterpoint. The 2007 album presentation of
the score doesn't include any of the songs officially licensed for the
film or those created by the fans in anticipation of it (all of those
are contained on a separate album), leaving Rabin's contribution to hold
37 minutes of your attention by itself. That's a difficult task,
however, and by the time "Evacuation" concludes with a hidden sequence
largely repeating one of the many sudden stingers from the score (and,
most closely, the one from "Snakes Kill"), you can't do much more than
roll your eyes. It's not out of bounds to say that expectations for
Rabin in
Snakes on a Plane were not met, especially given the
hope that he would accentuate Jackson's performance with more hip,
contemporary elements (as emphasized in the re-shoots conducted many
months after primary photography had wrapped, though perhaps the score
was already recorded by then) or handle the topic with the tongue lodged
a little more firmly in the cheek. By playing it straight, he falls into
the trap of writing music that gets lost in the generic process of
pinpointing each scare tactic. It succeeds in making you generally
uncomfortable, but does so with a nearly total absence of style.
** @Amazon.com: CD or
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Bias Check: |
For Trevor Rabin reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 2.5
(in 12 reviews) and the average viewer rating is 2.63
(in 13,621 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
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