The music of the Matrix trilogy is an odd thing. On the one hand, if I were to play the opening fanfare of the films, the famous call-and-answer of loud brass chords, a great many people would be able to identify it and the movies it came from -- even people who don't normally notice movie music. On the other hand, if I were to ask someone -- even a film score enthusiast -- to hum the tune of any song from a Matrix film, they'd be hard-pressed to do so. That's because even though the music of The Matrix is engaging and appropriate, it's almost entirely devoid of any recognizable melodies. In fact, it's something like the kind of music Rick Berman wanted for the Star Trek TV series he produced, a sort of musical wallpaper that rarely draws specific attention to itself. But it's the best possible version of that idea, a score that despite lacking for melody is replete with force, excitement, and energy. (It's perhaps not surprising that Don Davis actually scored a few Star Trek episodes earlier in his career.)
The Matrix Revolutions really represents Davis reaching the pinnacle of this non-melodic style. The score is a torrential sonic downpour that carries you away better than the movie itself. Powerful brass build up dissonant chords one note at a time. Wailing strings skip around from octave to octave, taking time in each to whirl up and down the scale. Military snare drums beat rat-a-tat sprays of sixteenth notes that ratchet the tension ever higher. Flutes write around the scale like snakes as someone pounds on low piano keys, all accompanied by harsh synthesizer drones. You may not be conscious of the music as you watch the movie (if you watch the movie; man, that third movie is just so bad), but listening to it in isolation really gets the pulse racing.
The music even reaches a literal apex in the opening notes. That famous Matrix theme I mentioned? In each successive film, Davis transposes it upward a half-step. Here, the final film opens with some instruments at the very top of their registers, and it's easy to imagine performers pouring everything into it.
The crowning moment of the score is the final confrontation between Neo and Agent Smith(s), a piece entitled "Neodämmerung." It's the most prominent use of choir in the entire trilogy, a strong chant somewhat evocative of the famous opening to Carmina Burana. Where most of the choral passages in the score use the human voice in amorphous ooos and aaahs, "Neodämmerung" gives them specific lyrics in a foreign language, lending an appropriately liturgical cast.
Once again, the Wachowskis wanted a techno influence in the music, and asked Don Davis to collaborate with the group Juno Reactor -- as in The Matrix Reloaded. If there were any bumps in this collaboration the first time around, they seem to have smoothed out by this final film. The three hybrid tracks are among the best on the soundtrack. "The Trainman Cometh" uses staccato electronic percussion reminiscent of Danny Elfman's Planet of the Apes score (another instance where the music far surpassed the film for which it was written). "Tetsujin" starts out almost as a pastiche of the old Kung Fu television series before erupting into a full-on techno-orchestral assault. And "Navras," created for the end credits, is essentially a techno remix of the pivotal "Neodämmerung" track, weaving in interesting Middle Eastern influences. In fact, the opening of "Navras" is such a get-you-psyched passage of music that the Colorado Avalanche were using it during this past spring's playoff run to introduce the team in home games.
All that said, while this third film might represent the best soundtrack of the series from the view of a musicologist or theorist, it may actually be slightly weaker for the average listener. There's actually less action in the final Matrix film overall, and as a result less action music in the score. Nevertheless, if I give this album only a B compared to the higher marks of the previous scores, I'd still call it a must-have for film music enthusiasts.
No comments:
Post a Comment