: (Nathan
Johnson) You have to credit director Rian Johnson for rejuvenating the
murder mystery genre of film, his series of
tales
smart and successful. His third entry is 2025's
, unfortunately limited in its theatrical release
prior to a primary existence on Netflix. Famed private detective Benoit
Blanc is called upon once again to solve a convoluted murder, this time
involving a monsignor in rural New York whose remote parish is
controversial for a variety of reasons. One of them is the legacy of the
parish in Monsignor Wicks' family and a valuable diamond that has
remained missing at the location but was promised as inheritance that
was never received. A younger priest with a checkered background is
assigned to the parish and becomes embroiled in the murder plot, though
Blanc sees him as an ally. The various members of the congregation are
all potential suspects, as is the priest, and a miraculous resurrection
of the monsignor complicates matters. As expected, the story builds to a
scene of grand revelation, in part from Blanc but also through
confession. The plot is, like those of the preceding films, highly
praised, and the ensemble cast performances remain top notch. Johnson
and lead actor Daniel Craig have expressed an interest in continuing to
produce more of these movies with each other, and such endeavors would
translate into addition film scores by the director's cousin, Nathan
Johnson. The music for these
films has been a worthy
accompaniment for their consistent intelligence, Nathan Johnson
extending his career into creatively orchestral music with impressive
results. While the composer and director seek to establish a different
sound for each of these scores, they do contain common threads of style,
and a few themes do return. Johnson's methods of writing and execution
for the series has become distinctive enough for the scores to make
their own connections, and listeners will find traits in
The tone of the music in
Wake Up Dead Man is
decided darker and more troubled than its predecessors overall, the
flamboyance of
Glass Onion gone in particular. The presence of
the orchestra is meant to be gloomier and more gothic, but not in a
romantic way. Countless broken lines of performance only consolidate in
the final cues, leaving much of the score fascinating but challenging.
Johnson's approach is meant to represent the battle between forces of
good and evil, faith and power, his techniques including writing that
demands the orchestra play in two different time signatures at separate
tempos at the same time. No traditional, church-oriented music was
intended, though some of the specialty colors for the work were recorded
in a church rather than a studio. While such strategies remind of
Bernard Herrmann's obsession with recording in freezing cold churches
for the effects on the sound, there really can be no difference noted in
the result in a modern film score. If reverb or other ambience is
desired, then it can be applied in a studio just the same. Very little
in the way of easy melodic writing exists in this entry, with far more
dissonance applied for the story's perpetual undercurrents of dread. The
instrumentation is key to the score's personality, and the standard
orchestra is joined by three highly distinctive instrumental usages
highlighting the soundscape. Most prominently, scratched strings are
bowed violently as means of maintaining harmonies but with a strikingly
harsh tone. Two plucked harps contribute across the sonic spectrum,
sometimes providing the actual bassline elements. Bass clarinets are
clicked like percussion along with what sounds like groaning, struck
wooden objects that are actually a broken harmonium (pump organ)
producing a ghastly, wheezing sound. Also prominent are thunderously
deep drum hits and what seems like slight organ tones in the latter half
of "In the Flesh." The mix of the soundscape is just as strong as in
Glass Onion, an outstanding presence very alive and well-spread
with elements satisfyingly shifted around the stereo range. The only
outright manipulation of the recording comes at end of "The Confession
(Violin Concerto in G Minor)," which is an unfortunate contemporary
technique that cheapens the moment.
While Johnson has indicated that he didn't write themes
to specific characters, he did so in
Glass Onion and continues
with that practice in
Wake Up Dead Man. His new identities
include one overarching theme for the new story that also represents
Monsignor Wicks, a motif (but mostly instrumental technique) for the
diamond, and a theme of mild optimism for the arriving Reverend
Duplenticy. The first of those themes, that for the film's plot
generally, has structural similarities to the main
Glass Onion
theme in its descending portions, a nice nod of connectivity. Consisting
of an opening four-note phrase with three-note answer, this idea is
previewed right away in the elusive lines in "Eve's Apple," lightly
developed early in "The Flock," and intentionally left hanging in only
fragments in "Monsignor Wicks." It overtakes the Duplenticy theme in
"The Confrontation," becomes slightly stylish in sparse pieces during
the latter half of "The Hollow Man," nervously staggers in nicely
layered pieces again in "The Red Thread," and flourishes for a moment in
fuller form in the middle of "A Minor Omission." After earning some
compelling woodwind reach in "Betrayed," the main theme is ominously
truncated in "Torching the Flock," focuses its secondary portions late
in "The Empty Tomb," and guides the melodic intrusions near the end of
"In the Flesh." Its full debut comes with power at the climax of
"Blanc's Revelation," though it continues to consolidate entirely on
violin at 1:28 in "The Confession (Violin Concerto in G Minor)," taking
an even more forceful position from the full ensemble at 3:34 and 6:36,
the latter immense. The idea tingles with more satisfying dramatic
resolution in "Vengeance is Mine" and is massively expressed at 1:42 in
that cue with brass power, later allowing itself to be more accessibly
pretty right away on strings in "Requiem" and mingling with the score's
other themes. The diamond motif's scratchy string presence is frightful
but fascinating in "Overture," thrashes at the end of "Eve's Apple,"
prickles in "A Minor Omission," and tortures the main theme's fragments
in "Torching the Flock." It contributes pure horror late in "Wake Up
Dead Man" with slamming percussion and again torments during "The Empty
Tomb," stylishly oppressive in the middle of "In the Flesh" as
well.
At the climax of
Wake Up Dead Man, the creative
diamond motif underpins the suspense of "Blanc's Revelation" and
strikingly postures early in "The Confession (Violin Concerto in G
Minor)" against rambling harp plucks, but it barely survives by
"Vengeance is Mine" and is subtle in the background of the midsection of
"Requiem." More hopeful but rare is the Rev. Duplenticy theme, an
ascending identity that is graceful but still mysterious, not allowed to
truly enunciate itself until the end of the story when the character is
at peace. Foreshadowed darkly in the middle of "The Confrontation" but
yielding to the main theme, this identity starts to form itself in
"Jud's Prayer" on oboe but still cannot escape the main theme's
phrasing. Its freedom comes at 1:08 into "Requiem" on oboe and is lovely
thereafter, the underlying cello figures in this cue very attractive.
Returning in this score is Blanc's own main theme, an ascending
seven-note phrase sometimes extending to an eighth. It was barely
functional a few times in the first score but all over
Glass
Onion. Reduced significantly here overall, this theme prominently
returns at 1:38 into "Jud's Prayer" on clarinet, guides the harp
plucking in "The Hollow Man," and is reprised on clarinet a few times in
the latter half of "False Priest" before doing the same to open "Blanc's
Revelation." Blanc's other returning theme, for his clue-hunting
prowess, is a basic, propulsive rhythm with minor-third alternations
that was also more prevalent in
Glass Onion than the first score.
Here, it builds momentum in the middle of "The Red Thread" and continues
its pluckiness in the first half of "Blanc's Revelation." Whether
intentional or not, Johnson does twist the main Wicks identity into a
formation closer to the main theme of
Glass Onion and offers it
the same string-slurring vibes of the prior score. Don't be surprised if
you find yourself reminded of that work during a referential fragment at
1:14 into "Blanc's Revelation" and equally subtle at 2:56 into "The
Confession (Violin Concerto in G Minor)." Overall,
Wake Up Dead
Man maintains the devious and intelligent creativity that Johnson
brought to the series before, but this third entry is less accessible.
There's outstanding execution to admire throughout, but you may not find
yourself returning to the 53-minute album experience as often. These
scores remain intriguing to behold, however, even if they are
unpleasantly styled for effect.
@Amazon.com: CD or
Download
- Music as Written for the Film: ****
- Music as Heard on Album: ***
- Overall: ***
