This blog post was written as part of MovieRob’s July 2018 Genre Grandeur theme: Bestselling/Popular Novel Adaptations
Long before Michael Crichton resurrected dinosaurs with “Jurassic Park” or even unleashed homicidal cowboy robots on unsuspecting guests (the first time) in WESTWORLD (1973), he wrote a now-classic tale of germ warfare and the scientists who are called in to deal with the aftermath of a satellite that crashes to Earth and unleashes a deadly microorganism.
Published in 1969, “The Andromeda Strain” put Michael Crichton’s name on the map. Compared to his later works such as “Timeline” and even “Jurassic Park”, “The Andromeda Strain” is a much more reserved, detached book that describes the attempts at analyzing the organism and diagnose two survivors with precision.
Renowned director Robert Wise took up the challenge of putting the novel on film. While the book was indeed a popular one, in a lot of ways it isn’t a likely candidate for a movie; it’s a testament to Wise and the crew he assembled that it works as well as it does. Aside from a race against a ticking clock in the final act, there is little action in the story. Wise and screenwriter Nelson Gidding do a fantastic job of taking what could have been tedious laboratory scenes and turns them into something unsettling and gripping. A sequence where two of the scientists examine the capsule in great detail is helped by revolutionary miniature special effects shots provided by Douglas Trumbull and James Shourt.
Production designer Boris Levin and cinematographer Richard H. Kline team to provide a cold aesthetic to the entire film that works fantastically well (Wise and Kline would again team on the first Star Trek film, giving the Enterprise interiors a similar clinical feel). Gidding also deserves credit in his decision to inject a small bit of diversity into the film by making one scientists in the film a woman (all four are men in Crichton’s novel).
Wise also makes several other shrewd casting decisions. While none of the cast are complete unknowns (James Olson is probably the least recognizable face here), there are no stars in the film. In a behind-the-scenes interview, Wise explained that he would have had a hard time believing a big-name star (he cites Gregory Peck) as a scientist. Instead, actors such as Arthur Hill as the team lead, Jeremy Stone, ground the film with a sense of reality that I agree might have been lost with bigger names. Likewise, David Wayne and Kate Reid, who round out the main cast, are quite good in their roles.
As with his casting decisions, Robert Wise also thought outside of the box when it came to the score for THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN. Not wanting a traditional orchestral score, Wise turned to composer Gil Mellé, who was a pioneer in the realm of electronic and synthesized music. Mellé was most well known at the time for his theme to Rod Serling’s series “Night Gallery” and he had also scored episodes of “Columbo” and later scored “Kolchak: The Night Stalker.”
Mellé’s score to THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN is difficult to describe. It works quite well in the film, but can be somewhat unlistenable in places on its own. Largely nonmelodic, it reminds me somewhat of the classic Louis and Bebe Barron score for FORBIDDEN PLANET (1956).
THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN main titles
Much of the unique sound in the score comes from Mellé’s homemade instrument, the “percussotron.” While it is obviously incomplete, there is a very interesting clip on YouTube of Mellé demonstrating the instrument and its use in the film: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQ28Ze65ixE
Finally, I would be remiss in not mentioning that, while the album may be a somewhat difficult listen, the LP version of the score might be one of the coolest-looking records I have ever seen.
The score does work quite well in the context of the film and only adds to the otherworldly, unnerving feeling that permeates throughout. While some of the technology may be dated now, THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN works well as an effective scientific thriller that seems all-too plausible.
Because STAR TREK IV: THE VOYAGE HOME was such a spectacular success, attention quickly turned to another sequel. Due to contractual obligations, the job of directing STAR TREK V was handed over to William Shatner, who also wrote the initial concept for the film. Drawing inspiration from the televangelist phenomenon, Shatners initial outline, subtitled “An Act of Love,” dealt with a holy man on a quest to find God.
STAR TREK IV: THE VOYAGE HOME completes a trilogy of films that began with STAR TREK II. Yet in many ways, it also feels completely different from the first two parts in that trilogy and perhaps in the Star Trek franchise as a whole. The tone is noticeably and purposefully lighter, and the extensive location shooting makes the entire film feel much more airy and wide open than the others, which were almost exclusively confined to soundstages.
STAR TREK IV also brought with it a change of composer. James Horner, who had scored the previous two films, departed in favor of Leonard Rosenman, who was a personal friend of director and star Leonard Nimoy. Reportedly, Nimoy had wanted Rosenman to score STAR TREK III, but didn’t have the clout at the time to make it happen. While I would have a hard time imagining anyone other than Horner score SEARCH FOR SPOCK, I don’t think I can hear Horner’s themes working well in STAR TREK IV either.
Rosenman was certainly not a stranger to science fiction, having scored FANTASTIC VOYAGE (1966) and BENEATH THE PLANET OF THE APES (1970) among other films over his long career. He composed music in a variety of styles over his career, including jazz particularly early on, but many of his more famous efforts are notable for being somewhat more avant-garde and atonal than contemporaries in film composition. For STAR TREK IV, he would apply both jazz and more modern techniques to his writing, with varying success. This score has always been considered the red-headed stepchild of Star Trek scores (being sandwiched between the two Horner efforts and the return of Jerry Goldsmith for STAR TREK V doesn’t help). But is it really as bad as its reputation?
Rosenman’s take on Star Trek is certainly a departure from past films. The movie also includes a mere 30 or so minutes of scoring, which is dramatically less than previously. Nimoy’s direction was to minimize any underscore over dialogue scenes, thus the cues tend to favor either set pieces or take the form of short sequences to connect scenes. During the sequences that take place in 1986 San Francisco, Rosenman emphasizes the comedic aspects of what’s happening on screen (the two chases involving Chekov, for example). His decision to partner with the jazz fusion group The Yellowjackets also dates aspects of the score in ways that are not an issue for any of the other Star Trek scores before or since. This is most apparent in the scene where Kirk and company find themselves walking the streets of San Francisco (the “double dumbass on you!” scene). It’s almost fun in moderation when taken in the context of watching the film, and it solidly places the viewer in the mid 1980s.
Also unusual for a Star Trek film, there is relatively little music. Nimoy wanted the dialogue to be easily heard, and wanted to minimize the amount of underscore for any dialogue-driven scenes. As a result, there is only about 30 minutes of music, and large sections of the film go unscored.
The difference in composer is noticeable right off the bat with Rosenman’s title theme. After a brassy arrangement of the Alexander Courage fanfare (one of my favorite renditions, if I’m being honest), the music launches into a jaunty, upbeat theme that immediately signals a change in tone for the film. The opening bars feature two thematic ideas: a fanfare in the trumpets that is supplemented by chimes, and a counterpoint melody in the horns. The horn melody is really what becomes the main musical idea for the film, and I quite like it. The trumpets, however, seem rather out of place. Especially with the chimes, they call to mind a holiday sale commercial or the intro to a local newscast. It’s not BAD music, per se, but it doesn’t feel like Star Trek to me (granted this is a subjective thing; your mileage may vary).
The middle of the cue introduces a decending B-theme that also is much lighter in tone than in the past. All in all, it’s a solid title cue, and one that immediately makes you realize you’re in for a different film than the previous outings.
“Logo/Main Title” (as heard in the final film)
Yet this wasn’t the original cue written for the film. Rosenman’s original main title was a full-on adaptation of the original Alexander Courage theme for the Star Trek television show. However, Nimoy requested an original theme be used in its place. In the end, I think this was the right call: the Courage theme was already dated by 1986, and since it’s not long enough to fill the entire running time of the credits, it’s padded out by a modern composition more typical of Rosenman (but which clashes severely with the material that comes before).
“Logo/Main Title” (unused version)
Silliness with Chekov
As I mentioned above, a good chunk of the music in this film involves two chase sequences centered around Chekov. The first, where he is attempting to escape capture by the FBI and the military, is underscored by some rather silly music with a Russian bent. While it may work all right in the film, I really don’t think it makes for a wonderful listening experience. To be fair, Rosenman does manage to create a theme for the Chekov character here, which is something that I don’t think can be said for any other movie before or since.
This theme carries over to the second chase scene, where Kirk, McCoy, and Gillian Taylor rescue Chekov from the hospital, where he is being guarded after being injured during his attempted escape from the FBI. It’s another very silly cue, but I feel like this one is much more entertaining as a stand-alone listen.
The Rosenman Style
Like pretty much every (film) composer, if you listen to multiple Rosenman scores, you’ll begin to notice common scoring techniques, including ostinato (repetetive notes, usually at the same pitch) during suspense and action sequences, complex harmonic textures, and the use of a “tone pyramid” in which individual notes are performed in sequence to form a chord. While this last technique appears throughout the score, mostly over sequences involving the mysterious probe that threatens Earth, the “Rosenman Style” is most evident at the end of the film, particularly in the cue “Crash/Whale Fugue.” Played over the climax of the film, in which Kirk must work to free the trapped whales and then during the whales’ conversation with the probe.
This is one my favorite cues of the film, because it features a variety of techniques in the scoring, and it includes some of the most interesting music heard in any film in the Star Trek series. Unfortunately, the sound mix dials out a lot of the music, but the original cue has been restored in the expanded album. The conversation between the probe and the whales is colored by unusual atonal passages and flutters of woodwinds and brass that resolve into a triumphant blast of melody as the probe leaves Earth orbit. This is followed by a joyous passage as the whales, Kirk, and company celebrate.
Another section of the film that is a standout in terms of music is the very end, where Kirk is demoted back to captain and given a command of his own once again, while Spock is able to finally reconcile his differences with his father, Sarek. Spock’s motif begins the cue that then shifts to a fantastic rendition of the Alexander Courage theme from the original series.
The inclusion of the Courage theme (aside from the fanfare) is something that doesn’t happen often in the Star Trek films. While this is not my favorite reuse of that theme in the Trek movies, it’s certainly fitting, as our crew is reunited with the U.S.S. Enterprise (NCC-1701-A).
To be clear, I really like the concluding music to the film. I think it’s some of the best writing that Rosenman did in the score. However…it bears a strong resemblance to the finale to another science fiction film that I like a lot: FANTASTIC VOYAGE (1966). That score is largely atonal, with the exception of a longing melody for the Proteus submarine that carries the main cast throughout the human body. At the end of the film, the crew slowly reverts back to their normal size, and the accompanying music also reverts back to a more melodic form as well…a melodic form that strongly resembles what Rosenman does at the end of STAR TREK IV. Is it a mere coincidence of 20 years separation between the two scores, or is Rosenman copying himself? I leave you to decide:
Excerpt from “Optic Nerve/End Cast” (FANTASTIC VOYAGE)
For a variety of reasons, Leonard Rosenman’s score is probably the most polarizing for Star Trek fans. It is certainly a departure from the scores that came before and after, but that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily bad. Yes, there are a few unfortunate moments, largely around the sillier cues and the choice to include some (now) very dated jazz fusion music, but there is also a lot to like in the soundtrack.
With the success of STAR TREK IV, Paramount Pictures approved yet another Star Trek film, this time to be directed by William Shatner. While the merits of that particular film can be debated, one of Shatner’s best decisions was to bring back the man who, in my personal opinion, defines what Star Trek movie music is: Jerry Goldsmith. Coming up next in this series looking at the music of the Star Trek films will be a discussion of the music of STAR TREK V: THE FINAL FRONTIER.
What are YOUR thoughts about Leonard Rosenman’s music for THE VOYAGE HOME? Please let me know in the comments below!
Musicals have always left the audience split, we have seen plenty of different types of musical that enter into other genres, we’ve had high school, gangsters, love stories and horror as well as the big one from the 2017 Oscars. The question remains what is your favourite Musical?
If you want to join the next round of Opinion Battles we will be take on What is your Favourite Alfred Hitchcock Movie, to enter email your choice to firstname.lastname@example.org Saturday 18th August 2017.
Darren – Movie Reviews 101
La La Land
Yeah, I am still going to pick this film even with all the hate it seems to be getting now, it tells a wonderful love story that shows us just the correct amount of love as it isn’t all about the happy ending but those happy moments. The songs are great…
Cliff (donning the Rocketeer helmet and rocket for the first time): “How do I look?”
Peevy: “Like a hood ornament.”
When you were a kid, was there anything quite as cool as a rocket pack? Sure, superheroes like Superman can fly, but he’s really an alien from another planet. But a rocket pack? That’s something anyone can strap on and fly off anywhere you wish.
Except that in 1938, the ability to fly takes on a whole other nefarious meaning, because both the U.S. and German armies are trying to develop a working model for military purposes. When the audience first sees the rocket pack, it’s being hauled by two goons across an airfield, with the FBI in hot pursuit, and in the process, they destroy a brand new plane being flown by Cliff Secord (Billy Campbell) and manage to stash the rocket in a hanger where it is found by Cliff and his friend/father-figure Peevy (Alan Arkin).
That’s the set-up for the 1991 Disney/Touchstone Pictures film THE ROCKETEER, which was Joe Johnston’s second directorial effort (following on 1989’s HONEY, I SHRUNK THE KIDS). Based on a comic book series, this was Disney’s second foray into comic-inspired films (the first being 1990’s DICK TRACY).
One thing that I completely missed as a kid but sticks out to me now is how, in becoming The Rocketeer, Cliff is really the accidental hero. When he and Peevy find the rocket, neither of them is thinking anything remotely heroic. Their plane crash in the opening sequence also took out a gas truck, and its owner Bigelow (played with wonderful sleeze by Jon Polito) wants them to pay him back for the loss. This makes Cliff’s motivation for keeping and using the rocket one of financial necessity, not a desire to do good or right wrongs.
Not to say that Cliff is a bad guy. He’s just a regular guy with real-world problems, and he sees the rocket as a means to an end. Billy Campbell sometimes gets a bad rap for his performance here, but I rather like him. He’s not especially heroic, but then he really shouldn’t be because he’s not a hero in the normal sense.
He’s also a bit of a dolt when it comes to how he treats his girlfriend, aspiring actress Jenny (Jennifer Connelly). If there’s one fault I can find with the film, it’s that there really isn’t much chemistry between the two actors (despite the fact that they were allegedly dating during filming). This is a relationship because the script says so rather than because the actors sell it, even though they both look the part.
Cliff also quickly finds himself the rival (in more ways than one) with leading man Neville Sinclair (Timothy Dalton). Sinclair is obviously a take on Errol Flynn, and Dalton is clearly enjoying himself in the role. First, he is revealed to be behind the gangsters who were trying to steal the rocket, as he admonishes the head of the gang, Eddie Valentine (played, in a real stretch of casting, by Paul Sorvino). Later, Sinclair starts to make a move on Jenny, at least in part because he knows she knows who has the rocket.
He’s also sent his henchman, Lothar (Tiny Ron) in search of the rocket. I suppose it’s their way of calling back to the fact that this is a comic book movie, but Lothar is a bit distracting because of his obvious prosthetic makeup that seems like a leftover from DICK TRACY. The character also disappears for stretches at a time, becoming more of a plot convenience than an actual important element.
Getting back to Cliff, it’s interesting in that when he finally uses the rocket, he does it because he has no other choice. In fact, pretty much every time he becomes The Rocketeer, it’s to clean up a mess he’s created: he first has to rescue an over-the-hill pilot who is only flying because he’s trying to help Cliff out; later, Cliff needs to save Jenny from Sinclair after he uses it to escape a couple of FBI agents who also are after the rocket.
It’s this last wrinkle that might be the film’s only (minor) misstep plot-wise. Adding in the FBI adds a fourth group that either has or wants the rocket, and it’s a bit much to keep straight (as a kid, I remember being confused by who was who). I can forgive the added complexity a bit by the fact that these agents are working for the inventor of the rocket, who is none other than Howard Hughes (the always good Terry O’Quinn). He wants the rocket back to keep it from falling into Nazi hands; Neville Sinclair turns out to be a Nazi agent hiding within Hollywood society.
The presence of the FBI also provides one of my favorite little touches in the film. Towards the end, the FBI and the Valentine gang find themselves on the same side, shooting against the Nazis. At one point, Valentine and one of the agents stop firing their machine guns for a moment, look at each other, have this moment of ironic realization, and resume firing.
Despite a few creaky effects that definitely show their age, the film’s climax aboard a Nazi zeppelin works pretty well, and the final resolution that does Sinclair in calls back nicely to an earlier sequence where the rocket is damaged. I also really enjoy how Sinclair’s fiery plunge takes out the “land” in the “Hollywoodland” sign.
When I first saw THE ROCKETEER I really only knew James Horner based on his scores for STAR TREK II and STAR TREK III. Also being a big fan of John Williams’ score for SUPERMAN (1978), I was a little apprehensive about a composer who I felt was more subdued in his approach (silly me).
Indeed, his opening cue is not bombastic in the classic superhero vein. Instead, Horner wrote an absolutely gorgeous, long-lined melody from which to base the score. His main Rocketeer theme is one of my favorites from Horner’s entire body of work, and it is absolutely gorgeous in its first appearance, performed initially by solo piano over the opening credits. He also wrote a “B Theme” for The Rocketeer, which kicks in just as Cliff’s ill-fated flight takes off:
“Main Title / Takeoff”
In a style similar to Williams, Horner also wrote themes for Jenny and for Sinclair. His “Jenny” theme, which follows her character throughout the film, receives a lovely concert arrangement on the soundtrack that is introduced by piano, strings, harp, and solo French horn:
Sinclair’s themes consist of two motifs. The first is a descending motif similar to the one that Horner used in STAR TREK III to represent the Excelsior. The second, more sinister is four rising notes that are usually played in the low brass. Both make several appearances in the track “Neville Sinclair’s House” which plays over Jenny being brought to Sinclair’s home, his (unsuccessful) attempt to seduce her, and her discovery that he is a Nazi agent.
Excerpts from “Neville Sinclair’s House”
Because this is a superhero film, the action music is arguably the most important part of the score. Despite my unfounded initial reservations about the main theme, Horner does a magnificent job in tweaking his themes for the action cues. My favorite bits come from Cliff’s first appearance as the Rocketeer, as he rescues a pilot in mid-air. A bombastic version of the main theme accompanies Cliff’s attempts to successfully pilot the rocket, including two falls that are wonderfully scored by Horner:
“Flying Circus” excerpt #1
He also brings back the second “flying” motif at the end of this sequence, scoring a humerous bit of action as Cliff flies out of control. This also includes one of the moments I definitely remember from the trailers: Cliff plows through a field as two guys who look like they should be selling Bartles and James wine coolers remark, “biiiig gopher.” It’s also perhaps the best use of the Jew’s harp I’ve ever heard in an action cue (an admittedly short list).
“Flying Circus” excerpt #2
One of the unfair criticisms of James Horner is that he tends to recycle themes from previous scores. While he does do this, I don’t think its to any greater degree than most composers. If anything, he tends to reuse rhythms or short phrases rather than whole themes. For THE ROCKETEER, he does keep this to a minimum, save for the Sinclair theme I mentioned earlier, and his chromatic motif from “Genesis Countdown” in STAR TREK II. This latter motif appears most prominently in the build to the climax, which occurs in Griffith Park Observatory. As the tension builds between Cliff and Sinclair over an exchange of the rocket for Jenny, this motif plays prominently in the underscore. As Cliff manages to turn the Valentine gang against Sinclair (because of his Nazi roots), Sinclair then unleashes a hidden squat of Nazi foot soldiers, followed by the reveal of a giant zeppelin hiding behind the observatory (not sure how this is physically possible but go with it). The remainder of the cue is rounded out by the expected action music featuring the main themes as well as Sinclair and Jenny’s themes.
Excerpt from “Rendesvouz at Griffith Park Observatory”
The final selection is from the final climax of the film, which takes place aboard the zeppelin. Once Sinclair is killed, Cliff (now rocket-less) and Jenny run across the top of the zeppelin which is being engulfed in flames. Finally, Hughes and Peevy arrive in the nick of time to rescue them, as a final statement of Sinclair’s theme plays over the Nazi emblem disappearing in the fire.
Excerpt from “The Zepplin”
All in all, THE ROCKETEER is an immensely enjoyable film that unfortunately didn’t do well at the box office. Joe Johnston does a terrific job nailing a period feel (a talent he would also bring to CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER later in his career), and all of the actors perform their roles well. It’s a shame that the film didn’t do as well as it could have on it’s initial release, but it seems to have found an audience thanks to home video. Despite the rash of comic book movies these days, few seem to have the heart and characters of a film like THE ROCKETEER. If you haven’t seen it yet, I highly recommend you check it out.
The success of STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN virtually guaranteed that there would be a third Star Trek film. Nicholas Meyer, who had so skillfully written and directed the second film, refused to do the third based on his displeasure with the idea of bringing back Spock. Ironically, this would wind up putting Spock himself, Leonard Nimoy, in the director’s chair for the second Star Trek sequel, which was written and produced by Harve Bennett.
One area of continuity between this and the previous film was the retention of James Horner as the composer. In this second film, he would be given the chance to add new themes, primarily for the Klingons and the Genesis Planet, and also further develop multiple themes from the previous film.
In looking back at the scores of the various Star Trek films, STAR TREK III: THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK seems to have fallen in the proverbial crack between the excellent STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN and the immensely entertaining STAR TREK IV: THE VOYAGE HOME (although the score to the latter film is certainly polarizing). On a more personal level, this particular soundtrack holds a special place for me:
STAR TREK III introduced me to the world of film music.
I had been aware of movie theme songs for a long time (my childhood was marinated in all things STAR WARS), but in terms of underscore, this was the film that made me sit up and notice.
The moment comes about halfway through the movie. The Klingons have landed on the Genesis planet and are tracking an away team of Saavik, David Marcus, and a rejuvenated Spock. Suddenly, and without warning, the sun begins to set on the rapidly aging planet. As both Kruge and David watch, there is this emotional swelling of fluttering strings playing over the scene. It only lasts for about 30 seconds, but I had never consciously noticed a moment so brought to life by the underscore quite like that. Ever since then, I was hooked.
“Sunset on Genesis”
(What’s amazing is that this cue was not included in the original release of the score).
While this is a very personal connection, I think that overall THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK gets overlooked by those who simply think of it as James Horner doing a rehash of his score to the previous movie. While many of the themes are no doubt similar, I think this is a very superficial and unfair critique. Its popularity was certainly not helped by the rather abysmal first CD release, which is missing a lot of quality music yet found room for an embarrassing disco version of the theme song. Ugh.
The score, like the film itself, is much more emotional and personal than it’s predecessor, and the orchestration suits that very well. In many ways, it’s a more mature score than THE WRATH OF KHAN, and is one that is more suited to sitting down and listening to rather than something to have on in the background. There is a subtlety here that isn’t really present in much of KHAN, especially in the lower registers, and if you’re not paying attention you might miss it.
Of course, the Kirk and Enterprise themes are both there from the previous film, and while I absolutely love the Jerry Goldsmith theme, these two from Horner might be my favorite character themes from the films (I’ve always thought of the Goldsmith theme representing Star Trek itself rather than any particular character). Horner also makes the best use of the original Alexander Courage fanfare of any of the composers, particularly in a moment that I will get to later, typically rotating the theme across multiple sections (primarily the horns and trumpets).
“Stealing the Enterprise”
This sequence is easily the best in the film and the score, and with the possible exception of “The Enterprise” from STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE, this may be my favorite cue in the entire series. If you want just the highlights of what James Horner Star Trek music is, this is it distilled into a fantastic eight minutes and forty-two seconds. The entire cue is a wonderful romp that perfectly fits the action on screen, as Admiral Kirk and his party, well, steal the Enterprise.
There’s an interesting theme (3:11) that Horner brings in with the horns right when the team beams over to the Enterprise. I could be wrong, but I don’t remember hearing it anytime before or after this scene. In addition, nowhere in the series is the Alexander Courage fanfare better used than in the moment right as the Enterprise is set to pull away from space dock. The music builds as Courage’s theme moves through the orchestra until the order for “one-quarter impulse power” is given, and the ship slowly starts to move.
The U.S.S. Excelsior, and particularly Captain Stiles, receives a piano/mallet percussion-based melody (right about the 39s mark) that I can only really refer to as the “pompous-ass” motif.
“This isn’t reality. This is fantasy.” -Uhura
It makes an appearance pretty much any time the Excelsior crew is on screen, such as the moment when Stiles is interrupted while filing his nails (!!). I also refer to it as the “pompous-ass” motif because it underscores the scene with Mr. Adventure, right before Uhura locks him in the closet. It’s also worth noting that James Horner would later seemingly adapt this into a secondary theme for Timothy Dalton’s character, Neville Sinclair, in THE ROCKETEER.
The bit of the cue (starting around the 6:13 mark) is a perfect example of building and releasing tension. The Enterprise is heading towards the giant space doors, but it’s unclear whether they are going to open. Then, at the last minute, Scotty works another miracle, and the Kirk theme is reprised in triumph as the Enterprise exits and turns towards space. For a moment, a lyrical rendition of the Enterprise theme plays once, but is interrupted by the approaching Excelsior. After some back-and-forth between Stiles and Kirk, the Enterprise warps away. As the shiny-new Excelsior begins to power up its fabled transwarp drive, Horner supplies some gloriously over-the-top “revving-up” music until, just like in the movie…nothing happens.
“Bird of Prey Decloaks”
This is another back-and-forth cue that plays the Kirk theme off of Horner’s Klingon theme. The latter theme is another polarizing bit among Trek music fans. I happen to think it’s fine; Goldsmith’s is so good it’s not really fair to compare them. My favorite moment is when it looks like Kirk has won the battle, and there is a tremendous trumpet counterpoint playing over Kirk’s theme. Then, the crew slowly realizes that they’ve overtaxed the jury-rigged Enterprise, and the tone takes a turn for the worse.
I also have to mention the next scene, where Kruge orders the death of one of the landing party (which ends up being David), and we see Kirk’s reaction to the news that the son that he just was reunited with is dead. In addition to being some of Shatner’s best acting in the series, it’s particularly striking that the entire sequence is (appropriately) unscored.
“A Fighting Chance to Live”
Another glaring omission from the original CD, “A Fighting Chance to Live” chronicles the final moments of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Slightly dissonant strings play over a mournful version of the Enterprise theme as Kirk, Scotty, and Chekov set the auto-destruct sequence and beam away just as the Klingon boarding party arrives. Interestingly, there is a percussion underscore for the actual destruction of the ship, which I never realized was there until I heard it on CD (and is perhaps the first and only appearance of the “thunder sheet” in Star Trek music).
This track contains another favorite moment of mine, where Kirk , climbs to the top of cliff, having just defeated Kruge, and looks out over the doomed landscape of Genesis. While I go back and forth on the merits of the actual Genesis “theme” (it’s really a take on Holst’s Uranus: The Magician), it works well here. This is particularly true when contrasted with the Spock theme and then the classic early Horner trumpet flourishes as the bird of prey warps away from the exploding planet.
“The Katra Ritual”
Finally, ”The Katra Ritual” is another evocative piece of music, starting quietly with rumbling percussion that slowly builds, adding strings, gong, and orchestra as the Fal-Tor-Pan is performed. This sequence, along with the sunset moment I mentioned at the beginning, were really what got me into film music to begin with; a journey that started more than 30 years ago.