Surround Sound: Soundtracking (Part 1)
When we think about soundtracks, it is impossible to avoid bringing up the names of the giants in the field: Jerry Goldsmith, John Williams, John Barry, Ennio Morricone, and Bernard Herrmann, to name just a few. Unfortunately, such a bias tends to affect our listening habits, and we often ignore the new voices that emerge from the film music community every year. And this is a real shame, as truly innovative and high quality scores have recently been made by newcomers who may lack the fame, but have the talent necessary to create blissful music. In an attempt to correct this situation, the current installment of Surround Sound will review some recently released soundtracks that feature sublime music made by relatively new talents.
30 Days of Night - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack [rating: 8]
In spite of its detractors, the cinematic adaptation of the groundbreaking graphic novel by Steve Niles proved to be an entertaining and intriguing horror flick. Directed with a good sense of pace by David Slade, 30 Days of Night offers a truly nightmarish situation. As the title suggests, in the small town of Barrow, Alaska, the longest night of winter lasts 30 days (in reality it takes 65 days, but I guess Niles thought that 30 made a better title than 65). This long period of time without sunlight is used by a clan of vicious vampires to kill and feed with equal gusto. As a handful of survivors manage to take shelter in a claustrophobic attic, the movie turns suspenseful and ominous. Featuring gruesome visual effects, an absorbing storyline, awesome cinematography, and decent characterization, 30 Days of Night is one of the best horror offerings released in 2007.The creepy music for 30 Days of Night by Brian Reitzell nicely fits the onscreen horrors and mayhem. Even though this is only Reitzell’s third score (following Friday Night Lights [2004] and Stranger than Fiction [2006]), he magnificently knows how to provide an aural atmosphere that will support the development of the narrative. A former drummer with rock bands, Reitzell followed a truly unusual approach to create the eerie score for 30 Days of Night. Indeed, besides using traditional digital instrumentations, Reitzell produced unsettling noises by manipulating a fast spinning pottery wheel that he bought at the local Home Depot. The result is a cacophonic, non-melodic musical soundscape that aptly captures the violence, otherness, and gruesomeness of the terrifying blood suckers. It may not have sophisticated compositions, instrumentations, or musical structure, but nevertheless the soundtrack of 30 Days of Night remains original and effective.
In the Shadow of the Moon - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack [rating: 7]
A beautiful documentary that showcases probably the greatest achievement of mankind, In the Shadow of the Moon narrates the dramatic events that culminated with astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walking on the lunar surface. The film not only uses stunning materials from NASA archives, but it also brings together some of the astronauts that participated in the Apollo program. Some of the legendary astronauts featured in the movie include Jim Lovell (Apollo 8 and 13), Dave Scott (Apollo 9 and 15), Buzz Aldrin (Apollo 11), and Gene Cernan (Apollo 10 and 17). Unfortunately, the recluse Armstrong does not provide his personal reflections of such a groundbreaking event. As this flick confirms, even after nearly 38 years, the landing on the moon continues to be an awe-inspiring and breathtaking accomplishment.
The beautiful music for In the Shadow of the Moon composed by Philip Sheppard reflects the epic magnitude of the conquest of the moon. Composed for full-sized symphonic orchestra, choirs, and electronics, this soundtrack is heroic at times, and enigmatic at others. The track “The Eagle has Landed”, for instance, uses overwhelming Americana sounds that bring to mind the frontier mentality. On the other hand, “X-15 Jet” uses minimalist arpeggios that reveal the tenacity of mankind to understand the universe. The second soundtrack commissioned to Sheppard, In the Shadow of the Moon showcases his eclectic education and sensibility for classical music. A respected cellist, Sheppard heavily uses the ominous sounds of this instrument on his compositions and orchestrations. Overall, even though the soundtrack for In the Shadow of the Moon is not as majestic as Bill Conti’s The Right Stuff (1983) or James Horner’s Apollo 13 (1995), it still delivers a beautiful musical background for unforgettable images of human endurance and perseverance.
Lust, Caution - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack [rating: 9]
The latest film by acclaimed director Ang Lee, Lust, Caution is a charged thriller set in an exotic-looking Shanghai, and takes place during the torrid years of World War II. This film tells the story of a woman who is swept into a dangerous situation with a prominent political figure. Espionage, intrigue, eroticism, and romance characterize Lee’s movie, which is based on the short story written by the highly praised Chinese author Eileen Chang. Featuring the histrionics of Tony Leung and Tang Wei, stunning cinematography by Rodrigo Prieto, and incredible production design by Lai Pan, Lust, Caution is an elegant flick that brings to mind the alluring works of Kar Wai Wong. Perfectly matching the delicacy and exoticism of Lust, Caution is the gorgeous score composed by Alexandre Desplat. Even though Desplat has been composing film scores since the early 1990s in his native France, he only came to international prominence very recently, with his work for English-language movies such as Birth (2004), Syriana (2005), Firewall (2006), and The Queen (2006). Desplat’s inspired orchestral compositions for Lust, Caution prominently use a melodic piano to underscore the drama and the romance, while a solo violin and accompanying strings are used to convey the suspense and scorching political landscape of the locale and time period. The musical duality of Desplat’s score is very expressive, features elegant instrumentations, and manages to provide a pleasing listening experience on its own.
Reservation Road - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack [rating: 6]
Upon its original release, this film was celebrated as an effective dramatic thriller directed by two-time Academy Award writer and director Terry George. Reservation Road tells the heartbreaking story of two fathers and their families, and how their lives suddenly converge after a tragic car accident claims the life of a young child. This is a moody movie that deals with some of the darkest feelings from the human heart such as resentment, retribution, grief, hatred, and unbearable guilt. Featuring an outstanding cast led by Jennifer Connelly, Mark Ruffalo, Joaquin Phoenix, and Mira Sorvino, Reservation Road is a truly emotional flick.Composed by the celebrated Mark Isham, the soundtrack for Reservation Road is as bleak and gloomy as the movie itself. For some strange reason, even though Isham has scored over 100 movies, he has never achieved the stratospheric levels of popularity that characterize Williams or Goldsmith. Still, Isham’s work for Reservation Road shows what a great musician he is. For this movie, Isham uses a small instrumental ensemble as well as keyboards and other electronic gadgets. Incessant electronic percussions, a sax, an oboe, and a clarinet offer an aural soundscape that conveys sorrow. Placing mood and atmosphere over melody, Isham delivers a haunting score that faithfully reflects the anguish and distress of the characters.
Superman: Doomsday – Original Soundtrack Recording [rating: 7]
Based on the bestselling series of comic books from the early 1990s, Superman: Doomsday presents the tragic story of the death, funeral, and resurrection of the indefatigable Man of Steel. Of course, as it was eventually revealed, this milestone in the history of the comic book industry was more a calculated ploy to increase sales than an artistic compulsion to explore a world without Superman. But nevertheless, not completely faithful to the original source, this animated movie tells how Lex Luthor’s LexCorps accidentally releases an intergalactic creature aptly named Doomsday. The ensuing battle between Doomsday and Superman reaches epic proportions, and culminates with the death of the quintessential American hero. Featuring the voices of Adam Baldwin, Anne Heche, and James Marsters, Superman: Doomsday is fun escapism if not much else.
The composing duties for Superman: Doomsday fell in the able hands of Robert J. Kral, who already had shown sensitivity for dramatic and action oriented scores with his work for the popular TV series Angel (1999-2004). Perhaps the greatest challenge confronted by Kral in scoring Superman: Doomsday was to follow the giant footsteps left by Williams with his unforgettable music for the original Superman (1978). To this end, Kral created a new heroic theme for the Man of Steel, which, even though it lacks the acoustic strength of Williams’ composition, it still delivers a musical punch. Kral’s score combines high and minor chords, and aptly balances action, suspense, and pathos. Quite unfortunately, Kral performed his music with electronics and synthesizers instead of a real orchestra, and the limits of the technology are often revealed during his more majestic compositions.
Things We Lost in the Fire - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack [rating: 5]
In this dramatic film, Audrey Burke (Halle Berry), a widow, befriends Jerry Sunborne (Benicio del Toro), the troubled best friend of her recently deceased husband. As Jerry finds his way back in life, he also helps Audrey and her two sons to cope with their grief and confront their loss. Directed with flair by Danish filmmaker Susanne Bier, and featuring powerful performances by the leading stars, Things We Lost in the Fire presents a heartbreaking story of great sorrow and unbearable anguish, but also of immense hope.The bleak soundtrack for Things We Lost in the Fire was composed by Gustavo Santaolalla and Johan Soderqvist. However, in spite of the alleged collaborative effort, the musical structure feels rather similar to Santaolalla’s Babel (2006) and Brokeback Mountain (2005). That is, the music for Things We Lost in the Fire is minimalist and mostly made of guitar snippets with infrequent harmonies provided by a small orchestral ensemble. Lacking major themes and melodies, the lonely guitar in the score effectively provides an atmosphere of lamentation and sorrow. However, while the music is effective within the context of the film, those detractors who have questioned in the past the musical abilities of two-time Academy Award winner Santaolalla are not likely to change their mind after listening at his work for Things We Lost in the Fire.
Hollywood’s Greatest Hits: Classic Music From the Movies [rating: 6]
Arguably, the big problem with “Best of” compilations of film music is that, more often than not, we get the exact same pieces. Indeed, most of these collections feature nearly identical excerpts from John William’s Star Wars (1977), Maurice Jarre’s Lawrence of Arabia (1962), Miklos Rozsa’s Ben Hur (1959), Ernest Gold’s Exodus (1960), and Jerry Goldsmith’s Star Trek (1979). And even though these are undisputable landmarks of the genre, even casual fans probably already own the original releases. Therefore, Hollywood’s Greatest Hits: Classic Music From the Movies is highly commendable because it offers an eclectic selection of high quality film music that is rarely brought together in this type of compilation.
Hollywood’s Greatest Hits offers awesome film music that most casual fans probably have not had a chance to hear before. Some excerpts found on this outstanding 2-CD collection include John Addison’s A Bridge Too Far (1977), Ron Goodwin’s Battle of Britain (1969), Franz Waxman’s Taras Bulba (1962), Mario Nascimbene’s The Vikings (1958), Bronislau Kaper’s Mutiny on the Bounty (1962), and Nino Rota’s Roma (1972). Unfortunately, these are not original recordings, but re-recordings played by the Czech Philharmonic Chamber Orchestra. And even though the performance of the orchestra is top-notch, some instrumentations and arrangements may sound a bit off the mark for those connoisseurs who are familiar with the original recordings. But nevertheless, featuring 47 tracks this compilation is likely to offer something new for everybody, and perhaps inspire the search for the original recordings. Personally, listening to the excerpt from Geroges Delerue’s Viva Maria (1965) was a true revelation to a beautiful score I was not familiar with.
The Nanny Diaries - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack [rating: 1]
The stunning Scarlett Johansson may well be the only reason to watch The Nanny Diaries, an uninspired comedy directed not by one, but two directors, Shari Springer and Robert Pulcini. In this flick, Johansson plays the role of Annie Braddock, an aspiring anthropology student who has to work as a nanny for an obnoxious wealthy family to support herself. The soundtrack for the Nanny Diaries is made up of popular songs, and quite frankly, it is thought provoking. Indeed, after listening to it, one wonders how a major film would be accompanied by such a lame compilation of uninspired songs. Perhaps with the sole exception of WAR’s timeless classic “Why Can’t We Be Friends”, all the other songs are not that good. As such, it is very difficult to envision why anybody would like to purchase such an insipid soundtrack.
The Ten - Film Soundtrack [rating: 3]
David Wain’s amusing comedy is made of 10 vignettes, each of them telling a story of what happens when different characters break each of the Ten Commandments. Even though it brings to mind the wacky situations and narrative structure that characterized Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life (1983), The Ten feels refreshingly original. As an added incentive, The Ten features three of the hottest girls from Hollywood, Jessica Alba, Femke Janssen, and Winona Ryder. Towards the film’s end, rather bizarrely, all the interwoven stories culminate with a climatic song and dance cavalcade in the inimitable style of 1940s Hollywood musicals. The soundtrack for The Ten was composed by Craig Wedren, who also composed the music for Wain’s previous flick, Wet Hot American Summer (2001), and the short lived TV series The State (1993). The music is fitting for the film, and equally multifaceted. From an epic opening in “Fanfare”, to Latin rhythms in “Mexico” and country-style music in “Goof/Prison”, Wedren shows a noteworthy musical background and sensible artistic inspiration. Unfortunately, some of the songs featured on the soundtrack CD are interrupted with snippets of dialogue from the movie. Overall, in spite of its underscoring achievements, The Ten may prove to be a soundtrack that is difficult to be listened on its own.
In the realm of Peter Jackson’s adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s fantasy classics, there is no such thing as ‘enough’. Everything involved in the billion dollar earning trilogy - the settings, the effects, the films themselves - move beyond the scope of normal cinema to turn into a universe all their own. As a result, production house New Line has found as many ways as possible - with and without the auteur’s input - to continue the seemingly constant revenue streams. In this case, we have the third in a continuing CD series hoping to bring every note Howard Shore composed for the films to soundtrack lovers everywhere. The Complete Recordings for Fellowship of the Ring came out two years ago, and Two Towers shortly thereafter. Now, it’s the Oscar winning installments turn to shine, and as with anything associated with Jackson, Tolkien, and the famed film franchise, it represents the best the specific medium has to offer. 
Sometimes, the bigger the project, the smaller the score. While many would argue that blockbusters require bombast, it’s also clear that some composers want subtlety to sell the mood, not amplified orchestral chaos. Someone should tell this to Steve Jablonsky. As the man behind the music for The Hitcher, The Island, and the remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, his aural pallet runs to the grandiose and the shapelessly suggestive. When you hear a Jablonsky backdrop, the action inherent in a stunt sequence is evident, the wall to wall wonder of an F/X moment is practically painted in your mind. This is old school film music, the kind that wants to be an entity in and of itself while also functioning as a integral part of the movie’s overall experience. Yet unlike those he freely mimics - John Williams, Howard Shore, James Newton Howard - there’s a bit of false bravado here. It’s as if Jablonsky the composer sat back, listened to the complete catalog of his industry idols, and created a sound that followed their formulas implicitly. 
Apparently, when one thinks of the Saw franchise, their mind instantly turns to Metal - and not just any heavy rock retreads but full blown balls to the wall death, thrash, and other extreme guitar workouts. If you like your sonics loud, fast, and in your scarred face, you’ll love this 19 track aural assault. Granted, it is as repetitive as the symbols of Satan, but one has to admit that the decibels describe the actions in the never-ending horror series quite well. The chugging, growling, primal scream nature of this score (actually, a collection of songs used in, and finding their muse from, the movie) matches the torturous, gross out glee of Jigsaw’s various games, even if after the first 15 or so tracks you want to drive a drill bit into your cerebellum. The raw anger inherent in the musical genre placed outside of the cinematic screamfest’s context does make for some heavy metaphysical lifting, but if you’re prone to howling at the moon or spending you nights cutting yourself, this album will definitely sync up with your psyche. 
The Bourne Ultimatum (Paul Greengrass), which follows The Bourne Identity (Doug Liman, 2002) and The Bourne Supremacy (Paul Greengrass, 2004), is the latest entry in the successful trilogy of gloomy spy flicks based on the clever books written by the late Robert Ludlum (1927-2001). While there is no contest that Jason Bourne is not as popular as James Bond, it is undisputable that the Bourne films played an influential role in the gestation of the latest Bond adventure, Casino Royale (Martin Campbell, 2006), which is by far the grittiest and most violent of the series. Arguably, a substantial contribution to the success of the Bourne movies has been their dynamic scores composed by John Powell. Perhaps the most inspired action film music in years, the soundtracks for these three films are structurally similar on their aggressive use of percussions to underscore the brutal action and brooding suspense.
Another continuing series of popular movies are those in the Harry Potter franchise. But contrary to the consistent musical structure of the Bourne films, the Harry Potter series have featured three different composers over the course of five flicks. Indeed, the legendary John Williams provided serviceable scores for The Sorcerer’s Stone (Chris Columbus, 2001), The Chamber of Secrets (Chris Columbus, 2002), and The Prisoner of Azkaban (Alfonso Cuaron, 2004), while Patrick Doyle composed surprisingly effective music with overwhelming dark overtones for The Goblet of Fire (Mike Newell, 2005). Now, for The Order of the Phoenix (David Yates), the musical wand was in the firm hand of composer Nicholas Hooper. Arguably, Hooper’s greatest challenge in the scoring of this film was to follow the giant footsteps left by two of the most distinguished composers in the business. While the resulting score is not a breakthrough of musical underscoring, Hooper succeeded in creating an elegant and charming score.
While The Bourne Ultimatum and The Order of the Phoenix belong to well known franchises, No Reservations (Scott Hicks) is one of those summer flicks which are rare to see these days: it is not a sequel, nor a remake. A romantic comedy that takes place in a high brow restaurant, No Reservations mostly relies on opera arias than on an original score. For instance, the soundtrack CD includes “Celeste Aida” and “Nessun Dorma” performed by the late Luciano Pavarotti, and “La Donna e Mobile” interpreted by Joseph Calleja. As such, only a fool would dare to criticize the composition and performance of these pieces. In this regard, perhaps the only wise comment is that the music fits nicely the kitchen locale of the movie.
It’s relatively easy to define eras by their aural backdrop. Put on a selection of merry Mersey Beat tunes, or a sampling of solid grunge, and the nods of ‘60s/’90s recognition (respectively) are hard to deny. Even a more perplexing epoch like the ‘70s can be summed up with a mixtape tricked out with disco, prog, or a proper balance of punk and pop (or for a clever combination of the two, The Ramones). But when it comes to the ‘80s, all bets are off. It was a time period that seamlessly embraced new wave, hair metal, adult contemporary, hip hop, and the emerging genres of techno and gansta rap. By the time Kurt Cobain primal screamed his way to the top of the charts, the decade had reset its cultural landscape several times over. So to call the soundtrack to SNL cult figure Andy Samberg’s screwhead comedy Hot Rod a paean to the Greed Decade is actually too broad a delineation. It is actually a homage to a couple of quintessential bands, accentuated with some wonderfully weird hidden beauties.
It’s a safe bet that parents who battled Barbie as an example of the repugnant pre-teen role modeling given their impressionable daughters never saw these doe eyed drama queens coming. The doll line – a sad excuse for underage fame whoring camouflaged as imaginative role play – is incredibly popular, and there have been many multimedia variations on its questionable glamour grrrl power routine. Yet unless you were preparing for puberty and Pro-Active-ing your blemishes, you probably weren’t aware that a live action kid flick was in the works. Arriving and diving near the end of the popcorn season, the infallible fashionistas as lamentable social statement were not quite the box office hit the toy manufacturers and demographically demanding marketers expected. Instead, Bratz The Movie was an unqualified disaster, raking in less hard sell scratch than the Itzy Pitzy Bratz Party Palace or the Forever Diamond Rollin’ Runway combined. The last bastion for a possible recoup remains the MTV-friendly soundtrack album. Yet its equally interchangeable nature and lack of artistic integrity dooms it to an equal sense of retail rejection.
Back when his cache of youth coup stardom was still pretty full, Ethan Hawke managed to get the novel he wrote as a teen published. Entitled The Hottest State, the inward glancing effort was roasted by critics and dismissed by fans who wanted more of his Realty Bites slacker sense and less of his plain prose. Yet thanks to a latter career skirting the fringes of fame, working in highly regarded independent fare and earning an Oscar nod alongside Denzel Washington in Training Day, Hawke has gained a recognizable Renaissance stance. So it makes perfect sense in these days of camcorder creativity that the actor would revisit his semi-autobiographical turn. Putting on as many production caps as possible – actor, director, writer – Hawke delivered what many considered to be a massive improvement over his original naïve tome. While still an overwrought talk fest, it succeeded in shaking much of the misguided wonderment that hobbled his literary leanings.
Music is often referred to as the soundtrack to our lives, and for many, it’s a sentiment to be taken literally. We fall in love to a certain song, break up over a privately held tune, and treat all celebrations, losses, and interpersonal struggles as objects for underscoring. It’s a proposal that propels the critically acclaimed “indie musical” Once, a film forged out of the former working relationship between John Carney and Glen Hansard (who were in the Irish rock band The Frames together). Centering on the burgeoning relationship between a street performer and a Czech immigrant flower girl, the celebrated outsider triumph took a non traditional route toward its aural accompaniment. Pre-production found non-actors Hansard and Markéta Irglová (noted professionals in the industry) writing the highly personal soundtrack, both separate and in collaboration. The results ended up reaching across the typical music and lyrics to evoke strong, substantive emotion while also providing the kind of minor key mood that prepares us for all the emotional upheaval that the narrative promises. As is the case with releases like this, context is crucial to gaining the full impact of these songs. But once you’ve heard them, they’re hard to forget – with or without the movie to illuminate them.
As an audience member, we rarely get to witness a musician’s mental breakdown through their songs. Instead, the manipulative minds behind the performer’s career tend to tweak out the bad stuff, leaving behind an incomplete portrait without all the sonic shadings. In the case of psychedelic bluesman Roky Erickson, however, the shift was sudden, severe, and very, very public. Before anyone could get him the help he needed, he lost both his audience and his mind. It wasn’t until he hit that most horrible of clichés –rock bottom – that he could pull himself out of his psychotic stresses. In his prime, however, he was like a combination of Syd Barrett and Daniel Johnston with a persona heavy on the weird acid casualty side of ideas. The change manifested itself aurally, as Erickson went from writing normal tunes about love and loss with the seminal 13th Floor Elevators to converting the voices in his head into epic audio tirades against unseen demons, goblins, and ghosts. It’s a path that we can follow, thanks to Kevin McAlester and his in depth documentary, as well as this stellar soundtrack album accompanying it. Covering Erickson’s entire career (including some heretofore unheard demos), we see how a damaged brain can become an even more messed up muse. 
Sometimes, it’s easier to look outside, to an artist’s sphere of influences, rather than reflect on the same three album canon over and over again – especially when financial issues like copyright and residuals conspire to mess with your options. For his documentary about the Nirvana icon, filmmaker AJ Schnack (creator of the brilliant They Might Be Giants deconstruction, Gigantic) drew on the numerous sonic references the troubled artist relied on to create his inappropriately labeled ‘grunge” dynamic. In fact, aside from Steve Albini’s overriding desire to distort all guitars, Cobain was a pop songwriter forced to conform to the needs of the scene (Seattle in the ‘90s) and the rock merchandisers (who rightly saw punk’s potential rebirth). He was also indebted to standard ‘70s cockrock, as well as the harsh hardcore subgenre that swept the West Coast of his adolescence. Without using a single note of the man’s amazing oeuvre, and avoiding the more obvious bands (The Pixies) namechecked in interviews, the slightly off center portrait painted is one of a DIY devotee who also enjoyed reflecting on the medium’s previous dinosaur stance. Together, with minor snippets from the audio interviews with Kobain that form the basis for the film, the imagination that drove this determined musician slowly comes into view. 
By now, most fans know the sad and confusing fact that neither Danny Elfman (who concocted the series’ signature theme) nor Alf Clausen (the man behind the music for 17 years) are involved with the sonic situation in the new Simpsons Movie. Instead, that Tinsel Town tunesmith Hans Zimmer was pegged to provide an aural backdrop to the big screen adventures of Homer, Marge, Bart, Lisa, and Maggie. An Oscar winner (for The Lion King) and five time nominee, there is nothing inherently wrong with said choice. The German born composer has been on a summer blockbuster role as of late, having worked on the last two Pirates of the Caribbean films as well as Batman Begins and The Da Vinci Code. But like asking an outsider to partake in a massive and extremely insular family reunion, Zimmer arrives unfamiliar with the ways of America’s favorite family. As a result, he turns in a decent, if derivative score that owes as much to the men he replaces as it does anything remotely original. It’s tough to get a handle on just what doesn’t work – especially in light of the music’s inherent quality and sparkle. But it’s clear that, without the context of the film around it and the specific sequences illustrating its tone, the auditory concepts here just don’t gel. Instead, they end up resembling disconnected sketches, ideas never coming together under a common theme or mood. 
Unlike the Simpons score, there is a solid synchronicity between Michael Giacchino and his remarkable work for Pixar’s latest animated pearl, Ratatouille. Almost every cue contained on this 24 track collection reminds one of the amazing adventures of the rat Remy and his desire to be a great Parisian chef. The composer – a long time JJ Abrams associate, having worked on Lost, Alias and Mission Impossible III – is no stranger to the animation/family film game. He helped Brad Bird’s other 3D masterwork, The Incredibles, roar to sonic life and put the aural polish to several Muppet titles. Here, Giacchino had quite a massive musical mountain to climb. Dealing with a modern France filtered through the city’s noted old world charm and aura, the score for Ratatouille needed to be instantly recognizable while incorporating as much of the cosmopolitan European flair the narrative needed as possible. It’s a balancing act that he manages brilliantly, turning this score into a reference heavy collection of waltzes, tangos, slow groove jazz, and ‘50s/’60s metropolitan cool motifs. When combined with the other odd inclusions – random Hawaiian guitar and harmonica –, the idiosyncratic ethnic choices (gypsy?), and the occasional callbacks to his own Mediterranean culture, Giancchino delivers a delightful aural stew, perfectly seasoned and ready to consume. 
Leave it to the House of Mouse to find a way to dull this Pixar production’s decided twinkle. Presented as a collection of songs ‘inspired’ by the film, but really nothing more than an excuse to make more merchandising oriented cash, What’s Cooking? utilizes the theme of food as a way of tying together 12 mindlessly mundane tunes. Most are originals from composer/conductor Fred Mollin and his Blue Sea Band, while others are corny covers. Sounding like something you’d experience in one of Uncle Walt’s theme parks, the slick overproduced feel of this collection is kind of creepy. You can hear every over-earnest nod to minority music styles in this hodgepodge of jumping jive and swamp boogie slink. It’s supposed to be toe tapping and finger snapping, but it ends up soul sapping most of the time. Like the recipes included in the liner notes (for fabulously perfunctory dishes like “Oven-Baked French Fries” and “Eiffel Tower Cookie Sundaes”) this is broad, unimaginative pap barely capable of providing true aesthetic sustenance. While there may be a few fans out there who see this release as a way of extending their Ratatouille pleasure – or cynically, introducing their impressionable children to the world of musical diversity – there’s nothing here that demands attention or approval. This is the kind of listening experience available every morning as part of TLC’s family programming. All that’s missing are Raffi and someone dressed up like a monkey.
