Hi, everyone. "Moriarty" here with some Rumblings From The Lab...
The return of Mr. Beaks and his occasional unnamed column, and this time, he’s got Jon Brion on his mind. Little wonder. He just saw him live at two different events and he’s as drunk on HUCKABEE’S as I am right now. Check this out:
THIS COLUMN HAS NO NAME, VOL. 0.5: THE EARLY YEARS
This is going to be a short column because I’m writing another one for tomorrow. You’re thinking, “Why not just wait until tomorrow and combine it all into one frustratingly verbose package like you normally do, you pretentious prig?” That’s a very good question. Very, very astute. Seriously, you’ve got your thinking cap on today, and I’m afraid I don’t have an adequate answer for you. This is a real stumper. For Rodney Peete’s sake, you’ve cut to the very core of my being. I bleed (theoretically).
In all seriousness, though, it’s because the next set of films I’m reviewing are hotly political in nature, and I don’t want them to overwhelm this miniature tribute to one of my two favorite working film music composers (neither, by the way, are named Harry Manfredini). I think this guy deserves a column of his own without a talk back filled with blind partisan rhetoric seemingly (more like “undoubtedly”) cut-and-pasted from ideologically charged blogs. (Not that I think there’s anything wrong with blogs. I like ‘em so much, I recently joined the party.) So, let’s stow that shit until tomorrow, okay? Or go find Harry’s shockingly eloquent review of GOING UPRIVER, and get the name calling out of your system.
Because right about now, we’re going to consider one of the most vital artists working today…
WITNESS (TIMIDLY) TO GENIUS
Dear Jon Brion,
Honestly, man, I’m not stalking you. Much. Just when I can find the time, really, so imagine my joy last week at the sweet scheduling convergence allowing me within swiping distance of the hem of your garment two nights in a row? Of course, discretion, nervousness and security inhibited me, so I will not be made whole soon (look at me labor a Sam Cooke reference!), but just getting to see you in action first at the I HEART HUCKABEES premiere, then at the ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND DVD release party only reinforced my belief that you are one of the most indispensable musical talents working today. (I sincerely hope the rumors are not true, and that you haven’t been removed from Fiona Apple’s long-delayed third CD.)
As a film composer, you’ve already achieved immortality, and it was on your first full-blown solo score (i.e., without Michael Penn’s assistance), too. Though I can’t justify setting aside three hours of my life to wade through MAGNOLIA again, I will occasionally pop in the DVD and marvel over the strange sonic tapestry conjured for the film’s coincidence-laden prologue, which inevitably leads to my flipping forward several chapters to Bill Macy’s anguished gay bar aria that veers with a grandiose elegance from tragic to noble to profound to pathetic under the influence of your soaring composition. Those two moments are as emotionally stirring a marriage of image and music as any I think I’ve ever seen on film. (‘Tis a pity the rest of the film is too sprawling for its own good, but, even if the themes are half-formed, I do appreciate the ambition.) We’re talking as good as Frank’s entrance in ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST, Han Solo’s last, pre-carbonite stand in THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK, or Scottie Ferguson’s lengthy, clandestine pursuit of Madeleine Elster in VERTIGO. But those clods – Morricone, Williams, Herrmann – needed a decade to get there; your transcendence came much more rapidly.
Since then, the scores have been too few for my taste, but when they turn up, they’re never less than indelible. Let’s consider, for instance, your contribution to the best film so far of 2004, ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND, which is highlighted by the same strange instrumentation and melancholic melodies that has become your trademark. Like Carter Burwell, the *other* best scorer working today, you’re careful to reflect the tone of the piece, not dictate it like so many of the major symphonic composers (e.g. John Williams, James Horner, Hans Zimmer) have a tendency to do. (I often wonder if you might’ve been able to help tame Gondry/Kaufman’s first all-over-the-topographical-map collaboration, HUMAN NATURE, though much of that film’s wildness was a product of Gondry struggling to enforce his music video sensibility on the quite different medium of narrative filmmaking. Still, you were missed – at the very least, it would’ve been a more tuneful failure.) Typical of this restraint is the slightly off-key piano cue that serves as the gentle aural counterpoint to Joel’s smashing of the stunned (or was it dead?) bird’s skull, which injects a, well, crushing poignancy that the moment desperately needs and might not have if left unscored (it’s also timed beautifully to the bird’s mate alighting from a nearby tree branch). And it’s impossible to imagine the climactic hashing out of the relationship in the flooded beach house working nearly as well without your score’s implicitly mournful acknowledgment that this was their devastating destination all along.
These are but a few of the moments I’ve cherished since the film’s March release, and I’d love to say that I’ve enjoyed revisiting them over the last week, but that bastard Moriarty horded the DVD. Still, I’m more than happy with my compensation, which was the opportunity to see you jam through six songs last Thursday night with Beck and Michel Gondry. Though I understand that you guys haven’t played together all that often, the band’s collective energy was more than infectious enough to override the roughness of the sound. It was a pleasure to hear that positively gutting version of “Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometimes” live, and the run-through of “The New Pollution” was a semi-revelation if only because I’d never realized how closely the song resembled “Taxman”. Normally, these industry affairs are hopelessly stiff, with everyone too busy networking to enjoy the music, but, somehow, you temporarily shook the narcissism out of them. I was actually kind of shocked to see Jim Carrey grooving away front and center through the whole set (especially since his cast mates, Kate Winslet and Mark Ruffalo, had retreated to the safety of the roped-off VIP section.) It was a great time.
More impressive, though, was your Bob Dylan-esque solo performance of “Knock Yourself Out” the night before at the I HEART HUCKABEES premiere. I’ve loved that track since I first heard it on the trailer, but hearing it before the movie helped prepare me for O. Russell’s whimsicality, which he’s indulged to fearless, but potentially alienating lengths this time out. The song’s a light and witty complement to the film’s unyieldingly philosophical nature, which, by the way, never comes off as pretentious because, all along, O. Russell is blithely sending up the kind of ponderousness in which some critics have mistakenly accused him of engaging. As for the score, it’s as clever and buoyant as the film itself, and while it hasn’t yet affected me as deeply as your work on ETERNAL SUNSHINE, I’m sure I’ll be wearing out the CD over the next couple of months.
I wonder if this sudden flourish of activity means that you’ll finally be following up MEANINGLESS. That’d be nice. I’d also like to see you team up again with Brad Mehldau, as his work since LARGO, while solid, has seemed kind of scattered in its intent. Most ideally, I’d love for P.T. Anderson to return with a fully thought out work, and see if you two can’t match or, perhaps, top your previous collaborations.
In the meantime, I guess I’ll see you at Largo one of these Friday nights. I’ll be the guy trying to stump you by calling out Planet P b-sides.
P.S. ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND is out on DVD this week, and I HEART HUCKABEES opens in limited release this Friday, October 1st.
Great stuff. Can't wait to see what you've got in the works for tomorrow.
"Moriarty" out.
