his score doesn't have the melodic strength of Beetlejuice, and it isn't a classic like Batman, but there are whiffs of those scores in Corpse Bride. Besides, everyone knows there ain't no such thing as bad Danny Elfman. This year, 2005, moviegoers have two scores from him, the first being another Burton/Depp flick, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. This one isn't quite in the same league, but again, Elfman doesn't write bad scores, and always seems to be inspired by his Burton projects, especially the animated ones.
Corpse Bride is pretty light on story, but the twisted visuals almost make up for that. Elfman's gothic score matches the feel of the movie quite nicely, with its occasional touches of harpsichord and organ. There are also the trademark Elfman cymbal crescendos, harkening back to the darkness of the Batman score, and an occasional choral lick. Similarly, his catchy songs and own inspired singing make up for some wispiness on the purely instrumental cues.
With main (living) characters named Victor and Victoria, it's tough to escape the Victorian setting (we're not in Julie Andrews territory here) and overall mood of the movie, and Elfman really goes for this in his instrumental tunes, as mentioned above. In fact, one could argue that most of the characterization of Victor (voiced by Johnny Depp) himself comes from his piano playing, which obviously appeals both to Victoria and to Emily, the titular bride. He hasn't got a lot of dialogue, and he tends to re-act rather than act. But the tunes set in the colorful Underworld have a kick-ass swing-era feel, in complete contrast to the somber cues set in the blue-gray land of the living. It's a nice inversion. Of course there is use of the xylophone motif for the skeletons—how could there not be?
The other voice actors, notably Albert Finney, Joanna Lumley and Tracey Ullman, get a good outing on "According to Plan." Helena Bonham Carter does a surprisingly good job in an alternately humorous and sorrowful lament, "Tears to Shed," sung with "spider lady" Jane Horrocks. These tunes serve to amply demonstrate Elfman's developing skill as a songwriter. These efforts wouldn't be at all out of place on the Broadway stage. As Bonejangles, Elfman belts "Remains of the Day" a la Cab Calloway, scat-singing and all, and it's a real treat.
He does it again, sans vocals, in the very short cue "New Arrival," which takes us back to '40s swing land for 42 seconds of pure delight. Gotta love those trombones.
No bones to pick here
One really nice thing about this disc is the amount of interesting piano playing to be found on it. Victor is an accomplished musician, and although his musicianship has nothing really to do with the plot per se, and isn't really explored to any degree, it does provide the means for him to come to some acceptance of—and then a developing affection for—Emily, who is also a pianist.
There is a nice little scene in which he joins her as she is sitting disconsolately at a piano and doodling a sad little melody—similar to the one Victor was playing earlier in the movie when he was interrupted by Victoria. Victor comes to sit with Emily and begins playing at the top of the keyboard. As Emily allows her sadness and frustration to come out in her music, he begins to elaborate on it. It's a rather affecting scene, one of the best in the movie and quite likely unique to animated films, which have, of course, always relied extensively on music. It would be interesting to know how this scene developed, but the disc has no liner notes per se, just some stills and a bunch of who-played-and-sang-whats and where they did it. Eh. Production notes, please!
(That earlier piano-playing scene, by the way, contains a fine bit of non-musical business—the piano Victor is playing in Victora's house is, by make, a Harryhausen, a nice, subtle bow to the great stop-motion animator.)
So what is happening here, in the final analysis, is that the success of the movie turns wholly on Danny Elfman, whose music characterizes Victor and provides the crucial bridge between his character and those of the two females who are rivals for his love. Fortunately, Elfman is up to the task, and in (as they say) spades. The movie requires him, but he requires the movie, because without it the score exists in a vacuum. This is, of course, not Tim Burton's way, so what we have here is a marriage of film and music that is, to some extent, unique. Maybe this isn't a classic, but it is unarguably interesting. Would that there had been a bit more weight to the story.
As I listened to this CD over the past couple of weeks, it has gradually grown on me, and I'm feeling more kindly disposed toward it than I did at first. I do like the songs more than the cues, feeling that they are more cleverly constructed, but the fine piano work throughout adds a lot of enjoyment for me, and the four bonus tracks from Bonejangles and His Bone Boys (Elfman and the band in alternate takes) are fun. It would be a—grave—mistake to ignore this CD. (Sorry.)
— Al
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