If you know me well there are probably a few facts that come to mind. One: I love a good cat nap. Two: my archnemesis is Canadian Winter, and three: Spirited Away is my favorite movie of all time. Since childhood, I have seen this film an embarrassing number of times (which I’ll admit now is probably somewhere upwards of twenty) and if I’m being honest, it probably won’t stop there. It’s my guilty guiltless pleasure.
Part of what keeps me coming back to this masterpiece of animation is, of course, the hand-drawn marvels, from the soot sprites to an adorable mouse companion barely the size of a hand. Part of it is also the weird, strange, and somewhat nonsensical Alice in Wonderland-esque storyline in which our main character finds herself whisked away to the Spirit World with a mysterious bathhouse. But oddly enough, the thing that always sticks with me the most after watching it and the thing that makes me return is the soundtrack. It’s the perfect backdrop to, if you’re arguing with me, arguably the perfect film. It’s full of lilting whimsy, forlorn mystery, and nostalgia. So, last year when my friend told me that not only was the composer of my favorite film coming to town, but he was coming to town to perform his work on Spirited Away (among others) I couldn’t say “take my money!” fast enough.
There are a few more things you should know about me. Four: I am exactly the type of person to fangirl over a 73-year-old Japanese composer. Five: at the height of pandemic boredom my friends and I had a PowerPoint party (which is a lot more fun than it sounds when your presentation is allowed to be as unhinged as possible), where I decided said 73-year-old Japanese composer was going to be the thing I forced my friends to listen to twenty minutes of hyperactive rambling about (and I still have that presentation laying around somewhere in my Google Drive). So, fair warning, I’m about to fangirl for an indeterminate number of words. Get ready.
To say Joe Hisaishi is talented is a moot point. None of the countless hours of music he’s created for almost every Studio Ghibli film are misses. His musical stylings are an almost impossible mixture of Impressionism (think Clair de Lune or Valse Triste), Big Band, jazz, and classical elements of Japanese music and instrumentation, where chords trail off, loop in endless patterns, and leave the listener suspended, waiting for the release of tension that’s so common in music across the Western hemisphere. Hisaishi is so good at what he does that he’s received a Medal of Honor for putting Japanese music on the global map and preserving its history and culture. But I’ll get back to the story at hand before I keep going and end up getting into Very Technical Music Talk which probably isn’t too interesting to a lot of you (like, did you know that a lot of classical Japanese music is built on a tetrachord scale that dates all the way back to the Tang dynasty? Or that this scaling was modified to mimic a Western five-chord scale in hopes of preserving Japan’s unique musical fingerprint? Okay, okay, I will stop nerding out now, promise).
The concert itself was everything I could have hoped for and more (so that’s one bucket list item I can check off). We were treated to some very experimental, very Not Hisaishi compositions (part of which were inspired by Sudoku puzzles, of all things), then a 1920s waltz by Maurice Ravel, and finally a symphony of the Spirited Away soundtrack in its (almost) entirety. Then, the cherry on top: our maestro returned for an encore performance of the iconic main theme of Howl’s Moving Castle (and the audience went nuts, my friend and I included). Not to be too on the nose, but I can’t help but say the final act struck all the chords with me. Watching Hisaishi conduct (and play the piano!) for what is one of the cornerstones of my childhood with such energy and joy (he was almost bouncing around on the stage) was well worth the wait.
On that note and keeping on theme for this post (which I have unceremoniously turned into fangirl hour), I thought we could take a look at some other films with incredible scores. Am I now just using this blog post to talk about composers doing Cool Music Stuff? Perhaps. But I plead the fifth.
A Silent Voice – directed by Naoko Yamada, composed by Kensuke Ushio
After high schooler Shoya Ishida becomes a social outcast among his schoolmates for years of bullying Shoko Nishimiya, a deaf transfer student, he falls into a deep depression with his guilty conscience making him unable to connect with anyone. But before he goes through with plans to end his life, Ishida decides that he must make amends with the people he’s hurt, even if he doesn’t know how or where to begin.
While A Silent Voice is definitely on my “Must Watch” list for its tackling of self-love, forgiveness, and deep character dives, the thing that drives everything home is the soundtrack. Kensuke Ushio is mostly known for his work as an EBM (electronic body music) artist, but for the music of A Silent Voice, he turned to the piano along with the synthesized instruments usually found in his compositions. But it wasn’t just any piano. It was one he disassembled and then rebuilt, all so he could place a microphone inside the body to capture the vibrations and clicks the keys would make when pressed (so cool!). The sounds Ushio recorded mimic the way a deaf person, like Nishimiya, might experience music and the world. It’s easy to miss while you’re watching for how subtle the addition of it is, but A Silent Voice wouldn’t be the same without it. It’s especially true for the last track of the movie, which leaves no dry eye in the house (the house in question being my house).
My only question is how did a movie like this with a soundtrack like that end up losing its Oscar to The Boss Baby (which I am absolutely not still bitter about in any way, shape, or form)?
Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) – directed by Alejandro G. Iñárritu, composed by Antonio Sánchez
Once a beloved superhero actor, Riggan Thomson finds his career has stagnated. He creates an ambitious Broadway project where he is the writer, director, and star of the show, all so he can breathe new life into his craft and prove his artistic integrity. His comeback is set against a backdrop of interpersonal struggles with his girlfriend, ex-wife, and daughter, plus a handful of unfortunate events that befall his opening night.
Looking back on the 2015 film awards season, it seems like Cool Music Stuff was the “It” thing with both Birdman and Whiplash being nominated for several Oscars, Golden Globes, and others. Though neither received an award for their original scores, so I’m going to give Birdman, at least, the recognition it rightly deserves (but I am nothing if not an amateur music enthusiast so maybe I’ll come back around to Whiplash at some point). Birdman’s soundtrack does what many composers dare not do- bring the backbone of musical scores, the percussion, to the forefront and let it sing on its own without any other orchestral accompaniment. Plus, add in the somewhat chaotic, free-flowing nature of jazz and you have something that sounds like the frazzled and deteriorating insides of our protagonist’s mind. We love reflexive musical scores!
If you’d like to check out the whole soundtrack, you can find it on Hoopla!
10 Cloverfield Lane – directed by Dan Trachtenberg, composed by Bear McCreary
After Michelle gets into a car accident, she awakens to find herself trapped in an underground bunker with a doomsday prepper who is convinced the world outside is out for their lives.
If there’s something familiar about 10 Cloverfield Lane’s soundtrack, you’re probably right. If you think you’ve never heard of something called the Blaster Beam (which is one heck of a name for an instrument), you’d be surprised. The Blaster Beam, created by John Lazelle in the early 1970s, has touched almost every cornerstone of science-fiction television and movie music from Star Wars to Star Trek and beyond (like Michael Jackson’s “Beat It”). It’s a long metal beam with wires that are mounted to electrical guitar pickups (truly a Frankenstein of an instrument) and can be played by plucking the strings, hitting them like drums, or rolling over them with pipes or other similarly shaped objects (I’ve read that the Blaster Beam was once played with artillery shell casings which is simultaneously the coolest and weirdest thing I have ever read). The Blaster Beam’s iconic deep and distorted warbling bass notes are perfect for any horror film like 10 Cloverfield Lane or a ship making a hyperspace jump. But my descriptions won’t do it justice, so you can check out this YouTube video to get the full Blaster Beam experience.
Everything Everywhere All at Once – directed by Daniel Kwan & Daniel Scheinert (The Daniels), composed by Son Lux
Evelyn Wang, an immigrant laundromat owner, is struggling in her day-to-day life. She finds herself unable to connect with her family while trying to keep everything together. But when a trip to the IRS office for an audit introduces her to the vastness of the multiverse, where anything and everything can happen, her life will never be the same.
I couldn’t help but toss my favorite film of 2022 into the mix. It’s the perfectly absurd blend of stupid, raunchy comedy that highlights its deep nihilistic philosophy (after all, if nothing matters then everything seems silly in comparison). The score created by Son Lux, an experimental music trio, goes hand in hand with it. In creating the music for Everything, Everywhere, the group turned to traditional Chinese instruments (like the paigu and gong), then digitized them to create samples they could inject into several melodic themes spread throughout the soundtrack. Son Lux then purposefully chopped the sound up so much that it became unrecognizable, weird, and alien. Reflexive scores strike once again as the audio experience of the movie mimics how displaced and strange Evelyn feels both in her own mundane life as an immigrant laundromat manager and in the expanse of the endless possibilities of the multiverse.
Ah, I love film scores. Now I promise I’m actually done with all the musical nerdery. Still, if anything here happened to strike a chord with you (I am getting full mileage out of this pun) or if there’s a movie soundtrack you love but I’ve missed, let us know! Until next time, I’m going to go put on Spirited Away again. It needs a rewatch.