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FILMTRACKS.COM
PRINTER-FRIENDLY VIEW 
Review of Bram Stoker's Dracula (Wojciech Kilar)
FILMTRACKS RECOMMENDS:
Buy it... if blatantly morbid melodrama of the highest order,
complete with excessively pounding percussive rhythms, brooding bass
strings, and bloated choral chanting, is the quickest path to the darker
corners of your heart.
Avoid it... if the grandest gothic tone and genuinely Eastern European style of the mythical vampire genre doesn't impress you unless all of its components are assembled in a tightly cohesive and functional whole.
FILMTRACKS EDITORIAL REVIEW:
Bram Stoker's Dracula: (Wojciech Kilar) If the
cinematography, art direction, and costumes are good enough, then the
rest of the production, including the title character, can be damned.
That's what Francis Ford Coppola faced when putting his lavish spin on
the famed vampire from Transylvania in his 1992 epic, Bram Stoker's
Dracula. The immensely gothic production values largely overshadowed
a cast with a few veterans who could chew on the material with
appropriate melodramatic zeal and a handful of young heartthrobs looking
pretty in their turn of the century garb. (The movie's genesis, oddly,
was as a vehicle for young actress Winona Ryder.) It was a film to be
seen and heard rather than contemplated for its extension of the Dracula
myth, some of which, especially in the real estate investment aspect of
things, didn't make much sense, and the extravaganza was boosted by a
monumental advertisement campaign and a significant amount of hoopla in
the press. Despite its mesmerizing qualities, Coppola's film ironically
lacked a convincing soul, playing out like an overacted stage production
on the best cinematic steroids of the day. Another aspect of the
production experiencing no limits in the melodrama category was the
appropriately massive score by Polish composer Wojciech Kilar, whose
career had not yet made a significant splash in America. His score was
somewhat surprisingly absent from the nominations of any major awarding
group; the film's design elements received significant praise from both
the BAFTA and Academy Award voting bodies, winning three Oscars. Perhaps
it was a lack of name recognition that restricted Kilar's chances at the
time (though he never fared particularly well with international awards
until 2002's The Pianist), because his music for Bram Stoker's
Dracula is a particularly memorable aspect of the production. All of
the over-the-top values assigned to the other appeals of the film are
evident in this score, from the swells of morbidly romantic orchestral
melody to the pounding choral passages of urgent and mighty
terror.
While Kilar had written many film scores by that time, an absolutely free reign afforded to him for this assignment by Coppola led to some complications in the production of the score. While that liberty allowed Kilar to write music distinctly informed by his own style, it also meant that he showed up at the recording sessions having written several concert-like pieces of music rather than anything specifically timed to coincide with the film. This forced the production team to record several hours of variants on these themes and leave the task of matching the music to the film to Coppola and the editing team. It was a technique not typical for the era that foreshadowed how the film scoring industry was destined to operate in the coming decades. Stylistically, though, Coppola was pleased with what he received. To be expected from Kilar is, beyond the basic ingredients of a large, gothic score, a lushly brooding sense of Eastern European sensibility, a distinctive touch so remarkably appropriate for Bram Stoker's Dracula that this sound alone is likely a solid reason why Kilar was applauded for making the most of out the high profile assignment. In the few major, internationally distributed feature film scores of his career, this one remains perhaps Kilar's most famous, even if it is not his best. Ultimately, most of what you hear in Bram Stoker's Dracula would be explored by the composer with more sincerity in forthcoming projects. The tone and style of Kilar's music is an interesting cross between his later scores for The Ninth Gate and The Portrait of a Lady (both impressive in their own ways), as well as a foreshadowing of the epic, resoundingly deep ensemble rhythms that Howard Shore would employ liberally in his music for The Lord of the Rings. (All you would need to do is emphasize the low woodwinds a bit more in a few of the Kilar cues here and this material could have eerily matched parts of Shore's classic works in orchestration and tone. The irony is, of course, that Kilar was originally offered the The Lord of the Rings assignment but declined). There exist three major themes and one minor one in Bram Stoker's Dracula, all of which conveniently reprised in the concert suite format Kilar compiled for the end credits. The primary identity in the score for Bram Stoker's Dracula represents Dracula and his vicious brides, introduced early and with understandably great sorrow in "Dracula - The Beginning" and stirring up more menacing trouble in "The Brides." This deep string waltz is that which is most saturated with Eastern European mannerisms, and while it is sufficient in tone, its lack of adequate frequency or development later in the score (until it bookends "End Credits") weakens it considerably. The only exception comes when Kilar uses the theme as both an interlude and counterpoint within his love theme, heard first in "Love Remembered" but really taking off in "Mina/Dracula" and "Love Eternal." When performed by only woodwinds, this doomed melody has a John Barry quality of overwrought romanticism, though its bass string performances, as in the latter cue, give it a greater amount of gravity. Of all the score's themes, this one receives the most variation in tone, especially in the middle act of the film, and each incarnation is welcomed. The propulsive theme for Anthony Hopkins' Van Helsing (and associates) is impressive but perhaps this score's greatest misstep. Expressed with unyielding bombast in "Vampire Hunters," "The Hunt Builds," and "The Hunters Prelude," it's not hard to mistaken this theme as the primary one for the film, especially given its prominent placement in the final mix. A forceful percussive rhythm pounds underneath a series of eight note phrases that aren't really heroic or powerful enough to set the right tone for Van Helsing's activities. In these cues, Kilar gains momentum in the deepest piano and brass ranges in rolling rhythmic structures that might remind of Carl Orff, and in "Dracula - The Beginning" and "The Storm," he builds snare-tapped rhythms that employ fiendishly evil choral chanting and random vocalized outbursts. The use of voices in a variety of ways, from subtle whispering to glorious chants, is a precursor to the concluding moments of The Ninth Gate. The use of outright shouting and random vocal effects in "The Ring of Fire," punctuating an attack on a horse by the brides, is interesting but totally unlistenable. Occasional soprano female vocals are lovely in a creepy sense and all too short, though the use of solo voice to foreshadow the love theme in "Mina's Photo" is a highlight. A couple of rather unique portions of the score for Bram Stoker's Dracula contribute to its lack of strong continuity, led by a somewhat dreamy light percussion theme for Lucy, an idea that nearly ruins the "End Credits" after its lengthy exploration in "Lucy's Party." The other interesting abnormality in the score comes at the end; in the closing seconds of "Love Eternal" and the entirety of the short "Ascension," an ethereal quality dominates in high choral tones and rare, pure tonality. When you put these cues together with the three major themes, there is friction between the interactions and a general disconnect in the flow of the score. The "End Credits" arrangement perfectly encapsulates this point, each sequence within its seven minutes having at least some merit but all together failing to produce a coherent whole. Aside from some overlap of the Dracula and love themes, Kilar does nothing to weave the score's melodic constructs and accompanying instrumentation into a functional whole. As such, the work is more appropriate as a lengthy concert piece inspired by the concept rather than a film score that serves all of its scenes as well as it should have. In reality, once the production realized that the score was not tailored to each scene, a dedicated arranger would have been recommended; the building blocks are magnificent, but the narrative is largely lost in the music. The original 1992 soundtrack album offered 55 minutes of music that included a wretched, unrelated, and stunningly misplaced Annie Lennox song at the end of the album. A limited 3-CD set released by La-La Land Records in 2018 recreated the film arrangements of Kilar's recordings without a significant remastering and threw in countless alternate versions of many cues as well as the original album edits. This presentation only exacerbates the repetitive nature of the score and reveals that even the alternate takes in many cases aren't significantly different from those that listeners are already most familiar with. The exception may be the love theme, which easily remains the highlight of the score; the additional variations on that lovely yet troubled piece are appreciable in all forms. The "Mina/Jonathan" unused album arrangement is perhaps the most interesting hidden revelation. On both albums, a heavy emphasis on the bass region, reinforced by the mix, also contributes to a restricted soundscape. There is much to impress in Kilar's Bram Stoker's Dracula, but it's a score that will leave you wanting better cohesion every time you revisit it on album. ***
TRACK LISTINGS:
1992 Columbia/Sony Album:
Total Time: 55:01
2018 La-La Land Album: Total Time: 189:40
NOTES & QUOTES:
The insert of the 1992 Columbia album includes no extra information about the score
or film. That of the 2018 La-La Land album contains extensive notes about both.
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The reviews and other textual content contained on the filmtracks.com site may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without the prior written authority of Christian Clemmensen at Filmtracks Publications. All artwork and sound clips from Bram Stoker's Dracula are Copyright © 1992, 2018, Columbia/Sony Music, La-La Land Records and cannot be redistributed without the label's expressed written consent. Page created 11/13/09 and last updated 11/30/19. |
