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| Giacchino |
Star Trek: (Michael Giacchino) After ten motion
pictures and over 700 hours of television episodes, it was perhaps
inevitable that Paramount would eventually succumb to the temptation to
reboot the lastingly popular "Star Trek" franchise. If ever necessary,
perhaps the late 2000's was the right time, rekindling the fire before
the embers had died off completely after the concept's life on
television had been extinguished with an unceremonious abbreviation to
the "Enterprise" series a few years prior. With so much lore memorized
by adoring fans, the "Star Trek" franchise reboot was a tricky prospect,
potentially alienating the very viewership from which Paramount wished
to milk solid grosses once again. For this endeavor, the studio turned
to wildly successful television director J.J. Abrams, a non-Trekkie, to
ensure that a fine balance between loyalty and revitalization was
achieved. And, for the most part, Abrams has once again succeeded; while
a certain amount of annoyance was stirred amongst concept die-hards due
to a few liberties taken with the history of the franchise's oldest back
stories, enough major connections and trivial nods were employed in the
script and other production values to please mainstream audiences at the
very least. It is somewhat unfortunate that this restarting of the
franchise could not exist without the paradoxes of time travel and a
singularly one-dimensional villain who some would say is too similar to
the archrival in the previous film,
Star Trek: Nemesis. These
aspects, as well as some dubious art direction seemingly dialed in
through time by the contemporary designers of Apple, Inc., didn't stop
the film from earning over $76 million in its opening weekend, 50%
greater than Paramount had hoped. From $4 million in pre-midnight
screenings on the night before its opening to $8 million in IMAX
showings during the same weekend, a consensus of positive reviews
assisted in solidifying the studio's prior inclination to immediately
green-light production of
Star Trek Into Darkness for 2013
utilizing, obviously, the rebooted crew and a cameo for an enthusiastic
Leonard Nimoy, who quickly expressed interest in a continued role of
some kind. Along for that ride was composer Michael Giacchino, fresh off
of his rare, clean awards sweep for the functionally pretty but
outrageously overrated music for
Up.
At 42 years of age at the time of this assignment,
Giacchino was among those who grew up with the William Shatner and
Leonard Nimoy films of the 1980's, himself an admitted fan of the music
to come from those films. As Abrams' regular collaborator, his
involvement in 2009's
Star Trek was never really doubted. Hopes
for his approach to the reboot were high for a number of reasons,
foremost being the amount of talent the (then) Oscar-nominated composer
had exhibited from the "Medal of Honor" video games to Pixar features
and several franchise and concept reboots already in his career, and
this was before he took over the
Jurassic Park and
Spider-Man franchises. Anyone familiar with his creative
adaptation of his "Medal of Honor" music into both his "Lost" television
and
Ratatouille film music knew his capability to smartly
incorporate existing material, even if sometimes with a tongue in cheek
attitude. For a few film score collectors, there was a wish to revisit
Cliff Eidelman in the franchise. While his career in Hollywood never
achieved the success that many had believe was inevitable in the early
1990's, Eidelman's music for
Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered
Country represents an extremely compelling single entry in the
franchise that adeptly closed the Kirk and Spock era with a keen balance
of gothic menace and heroic fanfare. With the legendary Jerry
Goldsmith's death and an assumption that none of the previous composers
(on screens big or small) would be involved in the eleventh picture,
Giacchino was among the best alternatives, serving as a capable and
young voice for this franchise with the same potential for fruitful
longevity in the concept that David Arnold had proven to be for several
James Bond films dating to 1997. Perhaps not surprising are the numerous
similarities between the intentions behind Giacchino's work for
Star
Trek and Arnold's highly acclaimed music for
Casino Royale,
the Bond franchise's equivalent reboot. Both scores utilize a familiar
canvas for their basic atmosphere, not rocking the boat (as, for
instance, the producers of "Enterprise" had decided to dabble with by
employing a rock song incongruous to the series' underscores), and both
were intentionally constructed without overt connections to the
franchises' previous music until the maturation of the characters at the
end of their initial stories. The fact that Giacchino's score sounds, in
many places, more appropriate for a Daniel Craig era Bond film, however,
is most likely an odd coincidence.
Therein lies the most intriguing aspect of this
soundtrack. The lack of obvious references to themes by Goldsmith or
James Horner isn't necessarily a detriment, and the withholding of
Alexander Courage's fanfare and theme from "The Original Series" until
the end isn't particularly bothersome. "J.J. and I decided to hold off
on that famous theme as long as we could," said Giacchino at the film's
debut. "And, when we do use it, it's almost a reward for everything the
characters have gone through." After the success of Arnold's unhindered
performance of Monty Norman's original Bond theme at the end of
Casino Royale, nobody can really fault Giacchino for delaying the
same kind of popular connection in
Star Trek. But far more
interesting about Giacchino's music for this film is the fact that it
doesn't exude any of the deeper, atmospheric characteristics of a usual
Star Trek venture. It plays as though its personality is 70%
focused on adventure and 30% focused on drama, and nowhere to be heard
at any point is the concept of fantasy. At the heights of the Goldsmith,
Horner, and Eidelman scores, there was an intangible element of awe that
accompanied the concept of "the final frontier." In the scores of those
three composers, this idea manifested itself in the form of majesty from
slow tempi, broad strokes, and a deeply resounding sense of impact.
Perhaps Horner's sea-faring title theme best represents this sense of
larger than life fantasy, though Goldsmith's original 1979 score
certainly poured on this element outside of its own fanfare. For
Eidelman, a certain reliance on Gustav Holst's "The Planets" provided
this feeling. Despite Giacchino's assertion that he did work some
inspiration from these scores into his own music, that connection seems
buried in mostly obscure progressions. Instead of addressing the element
of fantasy as any strong score in this franchise has done before, the
composer has instead created a straight forward adventure score that
would be, with only a touch of jazz, a competent James Bond entry. A
lack of any significant role for electronic rhythms or other effects
contributes to this feeling, and it is possible that the extremely
fast-paced narrative of the film precluded any notion of expansive
majesty in this entry. On the whole, however,
Star Trek doesn't
fit in any tangible way with its predecessors, much like Leonard
Rosenman's strikingly different tone for
Star Trek IV: The Voyage
Home. You know you're in for a shock when you hear the slamming
orchestra hits in Giacchino's main title, a technique he reprises a few
times to keep the adrenaline pounding.
Fortunately, Giacchino's work for
Star Trek is
infinitely better than Rosenman's insipidly positive and underpowered
distraction. It may largely defy the musical canon of the franchise, but
it's an entertaining score in its own context. The 107-piece orchestra
and 40-member choir produces enough bombast to please almost any
adventure fan, though the recording unfortunately doesn't feature the
truly monumental, wetter mix that became standard with Goldsmith's later
entries. Upon cursory evaluation,
Star Trek could very well seem
like a monothematic score, for Giacchino's employment of his new title
theme is so engrained in a multitude of cues that it's difficult to
shake after a while. The progressions of that theme aren't particularly
dazzling, contorting in familiar phrases that mimic the most pleasing
portions of Arnold's
Casino Royale, Danny Elfman's
Batman,
and even a few simplistic, token Hans Zimmer neo-classical favorites.
Its lyricism seems almost suited better for a hyperactive Broadway
musical than a space opera that begs for a touch of vintage Erich
Wolfgang Korngold influence. Both the structure of the theme and its
repetition, not to mention several performances truly rich with low
brass accompaniment (a bass trombone and three tubas do make a
substantial impact), give the impression of ballsy style that roots the
title theme closer to Bond territory than one traditionally for Captain
Kirk. The almost overbearing use of the theme is somewhat of a
disappointment; it literally does exist in nearly every major cue,
changing its instrumentation and pacing but never questioning its own
strongly cemented identity. It's also a theme that doesn't really
function well in fragments. Goldsmith always handled this by utilizing
the first four notes of his "friendship theme" (alternately representing
Starfleet at times) as an alternative to breaking up and over-exposing
his title fanfare. Some listeners may find Giacchino's theme to be too
simplistic or one-dimensional to hold dear to heart, even if it is so
prevalent that they can't help but hum the tune as they exit the
theatre. By comparison, the explosion of Courage's fanfare and theme in
the ten-minute finale and end credits cue is so blatantly out of place
that it could ruin the application. Some intelligent counterpoint in the
opening sequence of the "End Credits" may not save the awkwardly forced
use of the classic theme in this loyal, but comparatively badly dated
rendering. Unlike the ultra-cool bursting of the Bond theme at the end
of
Casino Royale, the "Original Series" theme here holds little
viable continuity in terms of style when placed against Giacchino's tone
for the reboot.
The score's two major subthemes vary greatly in their
originality. Giacchino's ideas for the vengeful villain, Nero, his
Narada ship from the future, and the treachery of the Romulan race on
the whole are a bit predictable. The progression of his pounding, deep
brass theme (applied mostly for Nero) uses minor thirds and a descending
construct that is not too dissimilar to Goldsmith's handling of the
similar villain in
Star Trek: Nemesis. Thankfully, he also chose
to apply a wicked array of percussion to the character and his species,
and for this task, he went in search of unconventional sounds. His
journey took him to a Los Angeles warehouse of unusual drums and other
noise-making objects, from which he decided upon the banging of a
10-foot Coca-Cola sign, among other things, to accentuate the static,
rhythmic propulsion of the character. On album, both the Nero theme and
this bizarre percussion can be heard clearly in "Nero Sighted," though
listeners expecting to hear a sound as brazenly unique as Goldsmith's
"Blaster Beam" from
Star Trek: The Motion Picture will be
disappointed by how pedestrian most of the effects sound in the final
mix. A combination of whacking on metallic, folding chairs and
unconventional use of snare and cymbals (as Horner did in
The
Missing) would have yielded an equal result. That said, the theme is
at least functional, able to instill a sense of dread even when not
quoted in its entirety. Conversely, the third theme by Giacchino for
Star Trek is its saving grace. Representing Spock and the Vulcans
is a lovely, yearning piece that surprisingly defies the cold logic of
the species by conveying the greatest, most sympathetic heart. Given
that they are a primary target for genocide in the story, this isn't
perhaps too much of a shock, but when you have to seek the tenderness in
the Vulcan portions of any
Star Trek score, despite Horner's
second entry bordering on that idea, you know you have an unusual
personality for your music in this franchise. Conveying this theme is
the two-stringed Chinese erhu, reminiscent of a human voice and, in this
case, altered electronically to represent the problematic relationship
between the Vulcans and their Romulan offshoots. With gorgeous harmonic
resonance and the blurring of the ethnicity with synthetic processing,
this theme's dedicated performances would sound at home in Klaus
Badelt's
The Promise. It would have been interesting to hear what
Giacchino could have come up for Spock had he augmented this theme with
a single male vocalist, denoting his solitary position. Likewise, a
particular musical nod to Nimoy's appearance would have been nice.
Still, Giacchino's other two primary themes seem mechanically stale by
comparison to Vulcan theme here.
The straight action sequences in
Star Trek are
also impressive in their own context, but once again they defy the sound
of the franchise. The frenetic density of many of these pieces, not
missing even a role for shrieking flutes on top, will remind listeners
of the composer's early music for the "Medal of Honor" games, a style
that earned him many comparisons to John Williams' later action music of
thick layers and would have been better suited for
Rogue One: A Star
Wars Story. In only a handful of places, Giacchino uses the choir
for additional depth, culminating in the truly apocalyptic massive
choral outbursts in "Nero Death Experience." By the time the 40 singers
start chanting their doomsday cries,
Star Trek starts emulating
the primordial tones of Howard Shore's famous
The Lord of the
Rings trilogy. It's effective music, but it once again stands apart
from the norm in the franchise and is standard summer blockbuster fare,
a disappointment for a man of Giacchino's talent. All of this said,
Star Trek is still a very engaging and consistently developed
score from start to finish, loyal in its own associations and
well-orchestrated. The combination of Vulcan and subdued title themes in
"That New Car Smell" stands among the best of the year. The "End
Credits" piece touches upon all of the major ideas, but despite the good
juxtaposition of the new title theme with Courage's original, the tone
of the older theme is as misplaced and potentially obnoxious as
Speedracer. The original 2009 album release for
Star Trek
was problematic in its brevity. In tough economic times, it was hard to
fault Varèse Sarabande for pressing only 45 minutes of music, but
that presentation omitted a wealth of material from the middle portion
of the film. Abstract cover art and cute track titles couldn't save the
album from immediately drawing fire from fans, and the label responded
with a "Deluxe Edition" of 5,000 copies as part of their Club series the
following year. Unfortunately, this 2-CD product had its own problems,
most notably relating to the lack of the film version's choral overlays
in three or four prominent tracks. Its packaging is also extremely
disappointing, contained in a rare book format for Varèse without
track titles on the rear or the expected level of detailed notes or
session photography to make the package worthwhile. The additional music
on this $30 set, which was re-issued with another 1,500 copies in 2019
after the first run sold out, quenches some fans' thirst for key missing
cues, including more erhu/Vulcan moments on the first CD, but it won't
likely change a person's opinion about the entire work. Overall,
Star
Trek is a strong standalone score, as is Giacchino's subsequent
Star Trek Into Darkness, but it's hard to shake that nagging
feeling that he somehow missed the mark in addressing this franchise's
heart.
@Amazon.com: CD or
Download
- Music as Written for the Film: ***
- Music as Heard on Album: ****
- Overall: ****
| Bias Check: |
For Michael Giacchino reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 3.46
(in 43 reviews)
and the average viewer rating is 3.21
(in 23,411 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
|
The insert of the 2009 album includes a list of performers and a note
from the director. The 2010 set comes in a larger hard-cover book and contains
the same note from the director and list of performers, as well as a note from
science fiction industry guru Kerry O'Quinn. The rest of the 20+ pages of the
set features photography from the film and one shot from the recording sessions.
The 2019 re-issue reduced the same booklet contents into a standard jewel case.
