Beyond the hype generated by the film and its music upon
release, it's difficult to imagine exactly why score collectors would be
attracted to this work to the extent to which they typically are.
Conti's work is extremely fragmented, creating an appropriate ambience
in the whole, but failing miserably in particular scenes. The theme for
Crown himself is a fascinating study, but its application in the film is
almost too whimsical to function. Using five pianos to perform the
theme, staccato rhythms are performed on four while while a dainty and
flighty theme is performed in short bursts over the top. The complexity
of the layers is an interesting way to represent Crown's multi-faceted
personality, but its extremely treble-dominated tone is too innocent for
the character. Fuller performances of the theme are used extensively
during the catamaran and glider sequences, though the renderings in
these scenes are still frustratingly limp. The sultry love theme by
Conti is generic noir-imitation material, and its effectiveness in the
film is diminished by the more modern acoustics of composer Jamshied
Sharifi's contribution (the reasons for which remain unknown). The
straight small-ensemble jazz, led by piano and bass, is decent enough
and a pleasant listening experience, but when Conti deviates from this
equation, the score loses all focus. The most bizarre moments in the
score exist early. In the initial trojan horse-style break-in scene,
Conti employs an ethnically curious percussive sound, highlighted by toe
and cymbal tapping. The sounds of the toe tapping could be considered
ingenious if only Conti had used that sound more consistently to
represent the dance moves of a criminal mind. In that scene, Conti
inserts bizarre electronic sound effects, contributed to by dissonant
electric guitar passages that are largely unlistenable. He eventually
lets rip with an ultra-cool, Media Ventures kind of guitar rhythm with a
gothic, deep male choral accompaniment. Caribbean-style percussion
alludes to both the settings later in the film and is consistent with
subsequent song use for the later break-in, but it doesn't really make
much sense here. A romantic, solo female voice is also out of place.
Ironically, it's this set of cues that is most memorable in the entire
score, even though it has nothing to do with the throwback jazz.
There is an orchestral presence in
The Thomas Crown
Affair, though its contribution is minimal until some of the more
confrontational cues later in the film. The exuberant piano performances
of the title theme, however, don't receive the depth they need,
relegating them to the silliness of some of Elmer Bernstein's less
appealing comedy material. The score, as a whole, lacks clear direction.
Apart from the film, the combined soundtrack of songs and score only
barely suggest the same allure. The album was a hastily-arranged, last
minute token effort to meet the demand of a mainstream audience that
likely noticed the limited song usage more than the score.
Unfortunately, that Pangaea Records album lacks appeal for both crowds
of soundtrack buyers; it doesn't provide enough consistency or length in
songs, nor does it include more than fifteen minutes of oddly selected
score. The songs, though partially maintaining a bridge between the era
of the original film and this new version, don't stand together as a
strong foursome. The Sting performance of "Windmills of Your Mind" is
surprisingly uninspired and deflating. The cover of the famous 1960's
"Sinnerman" song, while providing the best memories from the late scenes
of deception in the film and harboring a sense of enthusiasm lacking in
the rest of the soundtrack, crawls along for an unbearable ten minutes.
Some of the percussive and piano rhythms in Conti's score are obviously
inspired by this song. The two Caribbean songs that follow contradict
each other; the Wasis Diop song, "Everything (Is Never Quite Enough),"
is arguably the best selection on the album because it well represents
the steamy romance of the film. The following "Caban La Ka Kratchie" is
distractingly celebratory. The fifteen minutes of Conti material chosen
by Pangaea for inclusion is definitely not representative of the entire
score, missing the composer's more experimental sounds and Sharifi's
cooler shades. It's likely that the label specifically chose to include
the most conservative moments, which may have helped sell albums with a
consistent flow, but the choice certainly didn't give score collectors
an adequate taste of the highly diverse score. Ultimately, the lack of
any flair in this material took a score that was prominent in the film
and made it sound geriatric.
Not surprisingly, Conti's score was released in full
promotional form to assist in the composer's unsuccessful push for
consideration during the awards season (other than his usual conducting
of the orchestra at the Academy Awards). This 32-track promo represented
an extremely faithful 66-minute presentation of the music as heard in
the film, with strong sound quality and the incorporation of the first
two songs from the commercial album in their appropriate places in the
narrative. A Latin arrangement of "Windmills of Your Mind," as well as
Sting's version, are joined by a shorter mix of "Sinnerman" that is
strangely missing all the bass-heavy mix of the commercial album's
presentation (it's really not that enjoyable in this form, begging for
fans to hold on to their copies of the original album even if they find
the expanded one). The promo is a superior product in that it provides
so much more of the score, though not all of that material, as mentioned
previously in this review, is enjoyable in either the context of the
film or on album. Between "From the Horse's Belly" and "Closing the
Gallery" are several minutes of barely tolerable material, though the
inclusion of a cue like "Catamaran," while a bit redundant, is a plus.
The promo does expose Conti's reliance on his title theme on piano,
which appears throughout the score in equally upbeat variations. The
lack of the theme's adaptation for the darker cues in the latter half is
a problem, however. Still, the listening experience of
The Thomas
Crown Affair on the promotional album will be far superior for true
fans of the film than the commercial product. Bootlegs of the promo,
which also followed very shortly in 1999, were inevitable. It's
important to remember that the Pangaea album will remain more attractive
for the mass of viewers hung up on the "Sinnerman" performance. The
songs on that product remain clearly dominant. They can be thanked for
the product's massive sales figures, and, at the very least, they are
also responsible for the fact that the album was very cheaply available
on the used-CD market within a year or two. Conti's score,
unfortunately, failed to revive his sinking career. It remains one of
the most overrated scores of the 1990's, stylish in some regards, but
completely schizophrenic in its genre and application.
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