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From
Elfman to Theremin:
The Sonic World of Tim Burton
by Joe Cortez
Tim
Burton is a director who is unquestionably
known more for his sights than his sounds,
but it’s those sounds, the music,
and the way he uses music, that help to
define and give shape to his many wondrous
sights. From the gentle flute that characterized
his first short-subject masterpiece, to
the pop tunes that litter his latest achievement,
Burton is the rare filmmaker who knows
the true importance of music and how to
use it in a way that complements his images
in almost every way.
Burton’s first major work, the animated
short film, Vincent, took a minimalist
approach to the music when compared to
the scores used in his later films. Ken
Hilton’s music added a touch of
deranged whimsy to the black-and-white
world of the film. The interpolation of
familiar cues helped define an animated
world that was culled from twistedly touching
recesses of the mind of Burton. With Frankenweenie
composers Michael Convertino and David
Newman created a score that was quite
different from Hilton’s score for
Vincent, but was none the less a traditional
Burton film score (if one could exist),
one that danced the line between dark
and cheerful. Even in these early works,
the music displayed a certain quality
that was as uniquely Burton-esque as the
visuals. Just by closing your eyes, and
listening to the music in these films,
you can hear elements that would continue
to resonate in Tim’s later works.
Burton’s first feature film, Pee-wee’s
Big Adventure, also marked his first partnership
with long time collaborator composer Danny
Elfman, who was one of the founding members
of the pop group Oingo Boingo. Elfman’s
music in the film was very clever in the
way it captured the spirit of Paul Reubens’
Pee-wee Herman character and also added
a certain amount of scope to the production,
as Burton notes on the commentary track
featured on the DVD release: “We
didn’t have money for a big credits
sequence, so we had to try to set the
tone as best we could right from the beginning
so music certainly helps with that.”
Pee-wee’s Big Adventure was the
first major feature film Elfman would
compose a score for, the pressure was
on him to create a soundscape that would
complement and enhance the low budget
film, and Elfman pulled it off in spades.
Elfman’s music brilliantly set up
the demented carnival world that was Pee-wee’s
Big Adventure. Just as the film itself
exploited virtually every cinematic genre
so too was the score allowed to tread
diverse musical waters. The fact that
almost every type of scene that could
be done in a film was attempted in Pee-wee’s
gave Elfman that much more elbow room
to try his hand at composing music for
action sequences, romantic exchanges,
and scenes of flat-out zany slapstick
and irreverence. The film was a creative
and financial success, not doubt due in
part to Elfman’s brilliantly whimsical
score. Tim Burton and Danny Elfman’s
friendship and collaboration would go
on to become the most fruitful director-composer
relationship since Steven Spielberg and
John Williams.

Danny
Elfman
Beetlejuice, Burton’s
next film and collaboration with Danny Elfman,
featured one of the most atypical scores
ever composed for a Hollywood film. The
music infused polka-style melodies with
a calypso beat. The film’s score was
an absolute showcase for Elfman’s
imagination; where another composer may
have gone a safe route, Elfman took his
compositions further. He clearly used the
look and design of the film as inspiration
to be as wild and creative with his compositions
as possible. The film is also notable for
being the first of Burton’s films
to focus on pop music, and not just any
tunes. The music of Harry Belafonte played
a strong part in adding a fresh, tropical
flavor to the netherworld. Much like the
inclusion of a day-glow color scheme for
the afterlife, Belafonte’s tunes,
which included the “Banana Boat Song”
and “Jump in the Line,” added
an air of unpredictability, and inspired
genius to the film. It would mark a trend
in Burton’s films that would continue
with his next flick.
1989’s Batman featured Danny Elfman’s
grandest score yet, full of bombast and
energy. Gone was the campy feel of previous
musical takes on the character, replaced
with dark and brooding compositions of gothic
noir. Much like the film itself, the score
doesn’t have that instantly recognizable
Burton-esque feeling, and sounds much more
like a precursor to Elfman’s later
work on such super hero epics as Sam Raimi’s
Spider-Man. Danny’s appreciation for
the music of composer Bernard Herrmann (Psycho,
Citizen Kane) can clearly be heard as an
influence on the music in the film. The
film also featured several songs from The
Purple One himself (no silly, not the Joker.)
Prince recorded a total of nine songs for
the film and released the collection as
his 11th album (insert obligatory Amazon.com
link here). The potentially disastrous pairing
of Prince and the Dark Knight was thankfully
averted and the songs added a funky flavor
to a grim Gotham; heck, even “Batdance”
turned out to be a decent tune.
If Batman was Tim Burton’s biggest
film yet, then 1990’s Edward Scissorhands
proved to be his most personal film ever.
Taking a cue from the Christmas theme that
was so prevalent in the film, Danny Elfman
created a dark, brooding mood with just
a hint of the ominous doings about to unfold.
Danny has cited his love of movie scores
from the 1930’s and 40’s as
major influence on all of his works, but
Edward Scissorhands in particular. While
his Batman score was a perfect showcase
for his talent as a composer of melody,
Edward Scissorhands truly saw Elfman grow
as a storyteller; combining elements of
holiday themes, Gypsy melodies and Mexican
rhythms Danny’s score could aptly
be described as operatic (there’s
even a cue for the film titled “Ballet
De Suburbia.” His confidence as a
film composer shines in almost all of his
cues for the film. It’s little wonder
that Elfman has gone on record as saying
that his score for Edward Scissorhands may
be his favorite of any film he has composed
music for. Perhaps in a nod to the music
he associated his childhood town with, Tim
Burton tongue-in-cheekly used the music
of Tom Jones as the soundtrack for the lives
of suburban housewives, adding to the off-kilter
tone of the scenes in suburbia.
Although they were released three years
apart, Elfman’s score for 1992’s
Bat-sequel, Batman Returns was, much like
the film itself, much more Burton-esque
in tone (and some say quality). Both scores
deserved to be compared to each other not
necessarily because of their similarities,
but for their differences. For the film,
Elfman added a choir to several cues, creating
an eerie atmosphere that, on reflection,
the previous Bat-flick lacked. It’s
interesting to note just how powerful Elfman’s
music is in this particular film by the
way it sheds just a bit of sympathy on the
characters, yes even the villains. Even
the intimate (well, intimate for a Batman
movie, anyway) moments had a certain air
about them that truly made you feel for
and connect with the characters. The film’s
soundtrack also featured a song written
by the man from Oingo Boingo and performed
by Siouxsie and the Banshees called “Face
to Face;” it was put to brilliant
use in a tense scene late in the film where
Michael Keaton’s Bruce Wayne and Michelle
Pfeiffer’s Selina Kyle reveal each
other’s alter egos in a crowded ballroom.
1993’s Burton produced Nightmare Before
Christmas proved to be one of Elfman’s
true triumphs as a film composer, songwriter
and even vocalist. Burton, who had grown
up watching the musicals of holidays’
past, created a story that on the surface
was done in contempt for those musicals
but ended up joining the ranks of those
films and became a true holiday classic
in every sense of the word. Elfman’s
music in the film ranged from the cheerfully
pleasant to the delightfully frightening.
This film, perhaps more than any other Burton
film, showed the importance music plays
in his films. The music was the true storytelling
element in the film, moving the fiendish
plot along and giving deep insight to the
characters’ psychological state; never
once letting up in its ability to be effortlessly
melodic-these songs will stay in your head
for years. Shortly after Nightmare Before
Christmas was completed, Burton and Danny
Elfman had a falling out, and Burton was
left to find a new musical collaborator
for his next film.
Ed Wood, Tim Burton’s loving tribute
to the “world’s worst director,”
saw Burton work with a composer other than
Elfman for the first time on any of his
feature film projects, however, the music
for the film, composed famed Lord of the
Rings maestro Howard Shore, still had that
uniquely Burton feel. For the film, Shore
used an instrument made famous in fifties
monster movies (and The Beach Boys’
song “Good Vibrations”) called
the Theremin. The unearthly sounds created
by the Theremin were a centerpiece in the
sound design of the film, not to mention
a loving homage to those drive-in classics.
Theremin aside, Shore’s score (try
saying that three times fast) was a perfect
fit for the film itself. When comparing
the music in Ed Wood to the works Danny
Elfman composed for previous Burton flicks,
the subtle similarities and stark differences
are really quite amazing. Despite the similarities,
however, Shore’s score doesn’t
in any way sound like an Elfman-light score,
but rather very much Burton-esque, which
only goes to show just how much of an impact
Burton’s unique way of telling story
affects and influences even his closest
collaborators.

Howard Shore and friends
1996’s Mars
Attacks re-teamed Burton with Danny Elfman.
Taking a cue from the genre that inspired
the film, as well as Shore’s work
on Ed Wood, the film once again featured
the Theremin during several cues. However,
the two scores couldn’t be more unique.
If Burton’s film is not just a homage
to B-grade sci-fi flicks but one that, for
better or worse, is a B-grade sci-fi flick,
made with all the love of a fan of those
flicks, then the same can be said of Elfman’s
score for the film; it has “cheese”
written all over it. But that’s part
of its charm. The soundtrack, much like
the film, never takes itself too seriously
and lets the audience in on the gag while
all the characters ham it up on screen.
Even Mr. Tom Jones himself makes an appearance
in the film, how’s that for self-referential
humor?
Sleepy Hollow, Burton’s 1999 feature,
was a chillingly dark and atmospheric take
on the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. It was Burton’s
most dramatic and serious work to date,
and Danny Elfman’s brilliant score
reflected this tone in every way. Elfman’s
music in the film was like something straight
out of a Hammer horror film, terrifying
and straight to the point. The score was
darker than any other score for a Burton
film yet. Elfman used a choir once again,
but with this film, the choir was used for
a chilling effect rather than the usual
whimsy, and the dynamic range in volume
was used for some great scares in the film.
When listening to the soundtrack alone,
there is certain abrasiveness to several
cues, particularly those used during the
film’s climax, that no other Elfman
score for a Burton film had. It suggests
an even darker subtext only hinted at in
the film that another composer might have
missed.
2001’s Planet of the Apes remake is,
arguably, one of Burton’s weakest
works as a filmmaker; however, Danny Elfman’s
music for the film wound up being one of
his most diverse yet. It’s interesting
to note that POTA’s tone setting titles
sequence almost never happened. Burton reportedly
wanted to jump right into the film and have
the credits appear over the opening scenes
on the space station. “I almost had
to beg Tim to do a title sequence,”
remarks Danny on the DVD commentary track;
Elfman knew the importance of setting up
not only the tone but the storytelling universe
of the piece. Punctuated by a strong and
prominent percussion line, POTA’s
music cuts right to the primal heart of
the ape culture in the film. Elfman was
very excited to record such a percussion
heavy score as he plays and even creates
various types of drums. This enthusiasm
shines through during some of the more intense
and visceral cues in the film.

Image courtesy
of GlennShadix.com
Big Fish, Tim
Burton’s latest masterpiece, features
a score by Danny Elfman that includes references
to many other scores produced by the man
for previous Burton’s films. It is,
in many ways, a culmination and a new beginning,
both for Burton and Elfman, in their respective
careers. The score itself may not be Elfman’s
most adventuresome, however Burton’s
use of pop music helped to breath life into
his world. He uses instantly recognizable
tunes from each era visited in the film,
not just to give the viewer a certain degree
of temporal orientation, but also to give
insight into what kind of person Edward
Bloom is. Several scenes in the film take
place in the American South during a time
of heated racism, however, because we are
viewing this world through young Edward
Bloom’s eyes, none of this can be
seen because he himself is not a racist
person; Big Fish could have easily been
subtitled The World According to Edward
Bloom. This flavor of Burton’s take
on the character can also be felt in the
music used, musicians such as Buddy Holly
and The King, Elvis Presley, pepper Bloom’s
younger years; we can very easily imagine
that in Bloom’s perfect world, everyone
listens to this type of music.
The musical landscapes in Tim Burton’s
films are as widely varied as his films
themselves, but they all share a common
thread. The music inspires a sense of wonder
and whimsy in the visions Burton creates,
whether the artist behind the compositions
is called Danny Elfman or Eddie Vedder,
and that is an absolute testament to the
power of Burton’s visions and the
complimentary sounds.
- Joe Cortez, 2004 |
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