irrormask is the latest film from the Hallowed Halls of Henson (Jim Henson Productions, that is), this time in collaboration with Neil "Sandman" Gaiman. Widely lauded as being a visual knockout (though with a rather less than compelling storyline), the film debuted at this year's Sundance Festival and will begin its distribution proper (not in wide release yet) with a New York release in September. Like other flicks from the Henson folks (Labyrinth, The Dark Crystal), it will probably do lots better in the home market than it does in the theaters.
But whatever the film's fate at the box office, its soundtrack is a meal for the ears. From its opening bars, this album presents a menu of delicious surprises and delights. Composed by jazz saxophonist Iain Ballamy with able electronic assistance from programmer Ashley Slater (who also contributes a bit of trombone and vocalization here and there), the album bounces around a number of musical styles with great good humor. This is Ballamy's first soundtrack, and even if it's a bit eccentric (some of the cues are performed by a seven-piece circus band), it seems unlikely to be his last.
Ballamy makes expert use of a number of unusual instruments, such as xylophone, bassoon, impatient strings, clattering percussion, manic accordion (though not as brilliantly played as the kickass solo in Jane Siberry's neglected "Are We Dancing Yet?"), wood flute, tuba, muted trumpet, kalimba and temple bells—not to mention strategically deployed wordless voices. More than half of the cues are less than three minutes long—but one, "Discoveries/Fight or Flight?/Goodbye Evil Helena" is far and away the longest at more than 10 minutes. The shorter pieces are complete musical thoughts rather in the mode of They Might Be Giants, but unlike that band's music. Think Carl Stalling crossed with two Belas—Bartok and Fleck.
The first four tracks are very circus-flavored, with a pleasantly loopy feel. The cool jazz feel of "Spanish Web," with its nylon-string guitar, is a pleasant respite. This is followed by "Gorillas!", which, contrary to its title, is a meditative and rather humorous little reflection before it takes off at the midpoint into jazz—punctuated by tabla, it's true—and then ending in a George Martinish fanfare that would have been right at home in his orchestrations for Yellow Submarine. Like a lot of the other pieces on this CD, it's unique. After this the soundtracks settles down, but only for a short while.
A whack-a-ding-hoy soundtrack
The hits just keep on coming. Highlights include:
Cue 17—"Mrs. Bagwell's Rhumba," with semi-gibberish vocals (what are those sausages doing in there?) is a piano-driven samba complete with portentous wailing "spoken" section that then whips right back into the samba, with a fruity trumpet lead over the piano triplets. An arch triumph, not unlike Carla Bley's "Reactionary Tango."
Cue 18—"Meeting the Sphinx and the Dark Queen," which, with its darting strings, has certain affinities to Frank Zappa's "The Chrome-plated Megaphone of Destiny" off of We're Only In It for the Money.
Cue 19—"Monkeybirds." Here, bagpipes and headlong percussion suddenly careen off a cliff into a void of strings and ethereal voices, interestingly programmed by Ashley Slater and Ballamy. This one really needs to be heard with headphones because of the nice stereo effects.
Cue 24—"Close to You" is that "Close to You," the Bacharach/David composition, here given a surreal eight-part multitracked reading by Swedish vocalist Josefine Cronholm.
La-La Land wraps the CD in a nicely presented booklet with intriguing images from the film and good notes from Ballamy and director Dave McKean. Another home run for the La-Las. Nice work, guys.
I haven't seen this film yet, but I'm already inclined to like it because of this outstanding score. Someone better give Iain Bellamy some more movies to work on. I am afraid that I must insist.
— Al
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