Cambridge Dictionary definition of “triple-A”: relating to a government, company, etc. that is considered to be one of the safest to lend money to.
Consider the following three movies’ soundtracks the safest to lend your time to. Alien. Akira. Arrival. Okay, you won’t get your time back, but you will be rewarded with expanded emotional capacity, and memories for months.
A recommendation in this respect means, in principle: go and see a re-screening in your local theatre of these cinematic tours de force when possible. The directors of all three movies have some flicks up their sleeves, which increases the likelihood of such re-screenings somewhere in the near future.1
- Alternative I: Stream the movie and blast its music and sound on the best speakers in the house, as loud as physically healthy (which is not very loud, cherish your ears).
- Alternative II: Look up the soundtrack in your streaming service of choice and sift through it. Or at least click save to later forget about it.
- Alternative III: As these aren’t exactly obscure movies, you already know these movies and their incredible soundtracks very well. So, recreate the sounds and impressions in your head by reading this piece.
Soundtrack, or score?
To understand what is meant when “soundtrack” or “score” is mentioned below, it is helpful to briefly delineate their different meanings (if you don’t care all that much, you can skip to the next sub header).
The two terms are often used interchangeably, and although the separation between the definitions isn’t always day and night, it definitely isn’t in a complete twilight zone either. Generally, a score is the music specifically made for the film by a hired composer, but could additionally encompass pre-existing songs that were included in the film. A soundtrack, or “Original Soundtrack” (“OST”), can take multiple forms. The commercial, separate release of the OST takes whatever shape that is chosen by the film studio: the complete recordings of the film’s score compositions, only pre-existing songs that are included in the movie, or combinations of these, sometimes with parts of the film’s dialogue and other non-musical sounds included.
For the three recommendations below, the score will take a central role, but there will also be plenty of attention to the non-musical sound design, special effects, and voice performances. So, what we could call the soundtrack in its broadest sense.
Alien (1979)
Score composed by Jerry Goldsmith, conducted by Lionel Newman, performed by the National Philharmonic Orchestra
Okay, this one already takes off real nice with the late 70s 20th Century Fox intro fanfare music (extra nostalgic now that “Fox” has been dropped from the name by Disney after acquiring what is now simply called “20th Century Studios” – the animal is still cool but the news channel as uncool as it can get, Disney seems to agree).
In the opening scenes, the technology inside of the immense spaceship is introduced. The amount of interesting noises the tech makes, calling it ASMR wouldn’t do it justice. Hefty unyielding structures, making sweet little sounds. The units are so rhythmic when working, it wouldn’t go together well with playing some beats to space ride to, but most of the crew members don’t seem much concerned with music anyway. Luckily, later on in the film, Dallas the space chief is relaxing to some classical music, and whatever device he is using for that seems to be the only one not making any unnecessary noises. Priorities are clear in the year 2122. But yes, all other tech is noisy. Even when breaking down, going south, the sound the devices bring forth is weirdly satisfying. Also, the heavy humming of the colossal spaceship we’re exposed to when its exterior is shown, is like minimalist drone music in and of itself.
There are inviting moments of warmth in the opening scenes, both in the homely presentation of the spaceship and in the wondrous, bright sonic sweeps accompanying those glimpses into the tranquil life in outer space. Such as when we see the crew waking up in their sleeping pods. Imagine having those orchestral arpeggios lifting you out of “bed” each and every day, and lilting you to sleep when it’s (still) dark again. Now, John Hurt’s clearly gotten used to it because he has the regular man’s morning-stricken face, but then again, it’s John Hurt.
Other moments stand out where the score makes familiar instruments sound so alien. Reverbs (musician’s term for echoes) large enough to fill outer space. Strings that appear stretched, as if they orbit a black hole. Sure, the delay effects on the stabs and ornaments would sound much more sophisticated nowadays, but it makes for charmingly clunky retro bits.
It certainly isn’t all odd effects and digital manipulation that set the tone. Many parts are just solid orchestral pieces conveying specific emotions of expectation, estrangement, tension, release, and a lot more tension. Talking about tension, the crew we follow in Alien quarrels constantly, just as the film crew did about the score, this short documentary about the music of Alien unveils.
In the second half of the film, when things really go south, the impending doom and pressing horror is more and more evoked by effective silence, alternated with the whirring of emergency bleeps and skrts, and occasional cacophonic outburst.
And then there is Lt. Ripley’s voice and speaking tone… A constant voice of reason throughout, a voice of graceful resignation at the end. The way she says “The Nostromo” …someone should remake Her with her voice.
Akira (1988)
Score composed and conducted by Shoji Yamashiro, performed by Japanese musical collective Geinoh Yamashirogumi
The explosion that sets the movie in motion, is muted. A vacuum in history, referring to Hiroshima’s nuclear tragedy. There is the sound of wind before, there is the sound of wind after.
Especially if you’ve already seen this movie, although the spell of its visual mastery won’t wear off, focusing mostly on the score will tell you a similar story through more abstract, rough reveals. Also, try and focus on all sounds, not just the music. Like, the sound of Kaneda’s motor iconically coming to a standstill. Whew.
Okay, focus. The score. Next to Japanese Noh music, traditional Indonesian Gamelan music holds the most central position via featuring gongs (or “bonangs”), metallophones, and bamboo flutes. All made to sound like ambient music as ancient as metallic objects. Akira’s soundtrack exploits Gamelan’s futuristic potential to the fullest. The tapping of dozens of pots, only hearing their brims flow over with excitement, sensing it’s all youthful exuberance inside. Multiple crowds gather round, each singing their own song, in sync with disagreement.
These communal lamentations are interspersed with the panting and puffing of one single voice, almost as weary as it is combative. It is surrounded by many sharp electronic slices that are coming dangerously close, on the edge of cutting through.
Fatalism is constantly lurking, and early on in the film, one of the children ends up on a hospital bed. The beeping of the equipment blends with the pensive ambient music, striking a haunting balance between care and manipulation.
In the next bed scene we get, all feigned care is stripped, leaving a feverish nightmare with spare elements coming in at full force; really just marching percussion and three distinct layers of voice – low baritone blows, prevailing but restless child-like babbling, and a high-pitched choir in the margins. You could tie this together well with where we are in the story’s arc at that particular point.
In the escape scene from the sewers, the electric guitar is subtle but very cool. Heroic and elegant. It makes its way past the by-now familiar pots, rollicking drums, and digital squeals. Fully immersed in the muddle, yet certain to cut through. It’s exemplary for the score at large; usual instruments deployed in a manner that is fresh, unexpected. And a wide range of instruments at that. Flutes that cackle mid-air. Bells that lay the compositions’ fundaments with restrained authority. The organ parts when villain-or-saviour Tetsuo seeks confrontation shouldn’t sound so futuristic, but the way the organ is contextualized with ruthless voices, it surely does.
The busyness runs from start to finish, whether in the drum patterns or percussive bells and pots, stumbling yet carrying on as the film approaches its climaxes. The cracking and crunching of the political machinery drowns out the voices of the people, so, that they don’t hear that all that time they really are exclaiming in unison.
Counterpart is the organ synth requiem that floats around during one of the closing scenes, flashing back on Kaneda and Tetsuo’s shared youth. The piece is soft, widely meandering in limbo state between youth and afterlife, with adulthood as its vacuum.
Arrival (2016)
Score composed by Jóhann Jóhannsson, performed in part by Theatre of Voices
Already the last A(+) that closes off our triple-A. Although the rest of the soundtrack is composed by Jóhann Jóhannsson, the first and last piece we hear is On the Nature of Daylight by Max Richter. This sacrificed possibly winning an Oscar for Best Soundtrack, as audiences would not be able to distinguish the piece from Jóhannson’s score. Completely worth it. More On the Nature of Daylight later.
First, we’re lucky enough to be able to have the late Jóhansson describe his score himself. He was impeccable with language, whether through music or words. Besides the more minimal deep sound gusts, the pieces that stand out are the voices. Yes, also the otherworldly low and detailed ‘voices’ of the alien heptapods, which must be one of the main reasons the film did win an Oscar for Sound Editing. But just as well the few moments where the score’s singing voices present themselves. Jóhansson referred to these as “irregular and arrhythmic patterns of short notes which start small and are then layered to create a kind of cloud of short staccato polyrhythmic voices”. He also described the vocals as “Morse code-like phrases”, in a way similar to “the babbling of a new infant trying to understand – or subconsciously absorb – the basic structure of a language”.
Now, On the Nature of Daylight. Well, what is that nature? Brightness tirelessly laid upon every little tangible thing that doesn’t turn its back on the sun? The insight that contrasting darkness bears light? The patient harmony that carries both those things in back and forth strokes? On the Nature of Daylight is that harmony for a blissful minute and a half. Then, just before the melody and bass take hold, a haunting note seeps in from afar, like the misty limb of heptapod language reaching for the listener’s earlobe. It doesn’t quite reach what it grasps at, though its presence is felt for the first time. It further unsettles the firm but fatigued harmony.
As the harmony returns underneath the melody, it is never quite as peaceful as before. The melody that comes in first moves forward with a motive, then with a second moves backwards to that first motif, which moves forward again. Despite repeating over and over again, it is never a loop, because the doubled motif evolves – just as the movie’s plot. The harmony starts interacting with the melody once the composition reaches its peaks, getting loose from the ground and furling around the melody. It is what I imagine the fabrics of time sliding over itself to sound like. Moving along, recognizing itself in passing. If all this seems a bit over the top, you probably have neither seen nor heard Arrival. I invite you to, ears open wide.
…
Alien, Akira2 & Arrival. Three thematically very different films, whether in story or sound, from different cinematic eras. Still, with many common denominators: three-syllable titles, main characters at the mercy of higher powers, both political and extraterrestrial, giving their all to soundtracks that are infinitely invigorating.
- Alien’s director Ridley Scott has four films in pre-production, so when one of these come out, they might do some of his classics. That’s an endless list, but Alien definitely is high on that list. Arrival’s director Denis Villeneuve also has four upcoming films, such as Dune: Messiah, which often goes together with showing some of his classics. Arrival being his only sci-fi movie outside of the Dune series and Blade Runner 2049, makes it an obvious contestant. Then Akira director Katsuhiro Ôtomo is working on an Akira TV-adaption, it might never actually come out, but Akira is such a killer classic that cinemas from time to time do a screening anyway. ↩︎
- Another recent DigiCon piece focuses on Akira as well, more specifically the inspiration that the movie can provide for questions of how to respond to the societal suffering that can spring from unchecked technological developments. ↩︎
Etienne Valk
Has a background in music, sociology, and law.
Editor at DigiCon (sci-fi section)
