From a strategic viewpoint, the most interesting
development from Zimmer in
Dune: Part Two is the relationship
between the brazen, ultra-cool masculinity of the performance inflection
and the debate over whether Paul Atreides is a benevolent leader or a
tool of fear and retribution destined to become the next totalitarian
leader of the universe. (Was Donald J. Trump in this film?) Villeneuve
leaves the door wide open for Paul, having achieved his messiah status
at home and some form of imperial title over the known universe, to be a
Satanic figurehead rather than a true savior. The creep element is
there, especially by the time Chani rides off in the end, and that
doesn't even account for the theocratic aspect behind Paul's rise to
power. The question for film score enthusiasts becomes this: Did Zimmer
intentionally approach the ascendance of Paul with the brute blasting of
overly masculine coolness as means of promoting or suggesting
authoritarianism? When "Kiss the Ring" is so badly over-performed, the
cellist nearly destroying her instrument to force another ounce of
testicular prowess out of her instrument, is Zimmer reinforcing a notion
that what was once a tone of music appropriate only for Hollywood
villains is now acceptable for the heroic leader of a newly freed
universe? This moment offers no major versus minor key conflict to
explore whether Paul is hero or villain, and it's difficult to discern
if Zimmer took this path intellectually or if he is simply continuing
his quest for ever-more-obvious musical pomposity since obviousness is
now the key to acclaim. There is no respite from the darkness in the
score for
Dune: Part Two. Even the newly evolved love theme
cannot escape the composer's obsession with a morbidly brooding tone.
There is no passion, no hope, and no true victory in any of this music,
your senses struck with shades of despair and vengeful perseverance.
It's not enough to provide a moment of optimism or astonishment when
Paul mounts a sandworm; now, it's doused in shades of musical
retribution, the fearless leader worthy of rough electronic textures and
instrumentation so abused you can barely recognize any sense of humanity
in them. When everything is dark, brooding, and molested, there is no
comparison to help the narrative tell you when characters truly love
each other or when they mourn their lost or when they prevail over their
enemies. In this franchise, Zimmer never established a viable emotional
narrative with peaks and valleys, a catastrophic blunder.
For some listeners, however, style is everything. For
them,
Dune: Part Two will impress just as much as the prior
score. They'll even celebrate the fact that Zimmer betrayed his own word
by writing a more consistently thematic framework for the second score.
Indeed, therein lies some solace for all listeners, as the composer
returns several themes from the previous entry and devises a new major
identity for the leading romantic pair. That love theme is born out of
the House Atreides theme in first film, and although it never appeared
in that score, it did receive some development in his supplemental
recordings. Zimmer even presented it on tour without revealing its
purpose. As Villeneuve said, "I wanted something heartbreaking, and the
most beautiful love theme ever written, and honestly I think he did it."
Sadly, he's
delusional. The theme is structurally juvenile and
inadequate, highly repetitive in phrasing and often using the same eight
notes. The first five-note phrase becomes annoyingly static, with no
meaningful secondary or interlude phrasing to suggest any remote sense
of conflict or complexity in a relationship that has such depth. This
absolute failure by Zimmer to adequately address the Paul and Chani
partnership is exacerbated by the composer's continued insistence upon
presenting his progressions at excruciatingly slow tempos. This idea's
languishing pace makes even repetitive John Barry themes from the latter
portion of his career seem like spritely jigs. In fact, the new love
theme is so slow that some listeners may not even recognize what the
progressions of theme actually are, reducing any chance of memorability
and rooting it further in the realm of sound design. It's no coincidence
that the theme sounds much better when sped up to twice its regular
speed, though that route does expose just how simplistic and repetitive
it is. The theme occupies the long suite arrangement that opens the
album, extended duduk and muted synths offering absolutely no complexity
at all in this performance, merely simplistic chords and no
counterpoint. Although vaguely pretty and easily digestible, the theme
is also boring and completely passionless, containing absolutely none of
the intensity of suffering or love heard in Zimmer and Mazzaro's
The
Creator the year prior. In this track, the idea only builds some
depth at 7:11, but the synth ambience is distorted so badly that no
truly romantic intonation can survive. Zimmer again forgets that
otherworldly romance is still romance, and the music must convey at
least some genuine affection.
The main love theme of
Dune: Part Two receives a
similar performance to "Beginnings Are Such Delicate Times" in the
rearranged "A Time of Quiet Between the Storms," though the presentation
remains simplistic and slow. Abrasive synth backing is joined by
pounding percussion for an incongruous end to the cue. The idea's chords
inform "Never Lose Me" without making much impact before a dissonant
crescendo. It then makes its prominent pronouncement with a familiar
refrain on duduk in "Kiss the Ring," after which Zimmer builds to the
fullest performance of the theme on agonized electric cello with
chime-banging accompaniment. Some passion begins to emerge here, but
it's too loud and overstated to sound genuine, each performer pounding
or slashing his or her instrument so that all perspective is lost. At
least some counterpoint emerges, but it overwhelms the melody. Aside
from the ineffective loudness of the moment, Zimmer doesn't make it
clear who the theme is really meant to represent at this moment. Is the
tortured and manipulated performance meant to suggest that Paul has
become corrupt and his relationship with Chani is threatened? Is it
because Paul actually wants to hump Princess Irulan Corrino? (Hell, why
not?) Is it because the whole situation has become a romantic nightmare
with the balance of the known universe at stake? Zimmer doesn't answer
these questions, and the cue leaves the score on an extremely uneasy
note despite its attempt to inject even more importance and majesty into
a work that was already overflowing in volume. The theme is then
featured during the end credits at 1:20 into "Only I Will Remain," once
again in needlessly distorted form. Meanwhile, Zimmer doesn't do much to
clarify the confusing situation involving the various themes for Paul
Atreides, his destiny, and House Atreides generally. The first score
threw all of these ideas together into mashups that occasionally
branched off with purpose, but any hope that he would very clearly
delineate each of these variants' actual representations are dashed
here. He and his team rely mostly on the primary Paul Atreides theme as
he completes his journey to being featured in every trading card deck in
the universe. Of the secondary ideas, the House Atreides theme is really
short-changed, though that's not particularly surprising in this portion
of the narrative unless you expect it to linger around for Lady Jessica
more than the less appealing Bene Gesserit musical alternative. The
House Atreides theme is smothered in the overproduced force of "Paul
Drinks" and quietly stews at the start of "Only I Will Remain," but
expect little more impact than that.
Faring a bit better is the destiny or Kwisatz Haderach
variant on Paul's theme in
Dune: Part Two, affectionately known
otherwise as the wailing "Wonder Woman motif" because it so closely
resembles Tom Holkenborg's humorously pervasive and obvious idea for
that character in
Zack Snyder's Justice League. (The resemblance
is so striking that the destiny theme is completely ruined in this
context, almost like a bad in-joke for film score collectors or perhaps
just the universe's way of recognizing that the breadth of original
ideas to come from this particular group of composers is not infinite.)
Building from Paul's theme in "The Sietch," this destiny motif returns
in usual Wonder Woman form at 0:45 into "Worm Ride" and starts
"Resurrection" with those standard female screams. It accompanies Paul's
theme in "Worm Army" amongst the blasting action and finally opens
"Lisan al Gaib" electronically with mechanical sound effects. This usage
cannot compete with the insertion of the primary Paul Atreides theme
from
Dune, however, which returns in troubled shades throughout
"The Sietch" on vocals and duduk, explodes most unpleasantly at the end
of "Harvester Attack," and follows the Wonder Woman (destiny) motif on
broad, slurring synths in "Worm Ride." The theme injects even more
testosterone from there, reinforcing the question about hero versus
villain. Electric guitar ramblings for the theme guide the second half
of "Ornithopter Attack," and it blasts away with way too much attempted
electronic coolness at the outset of "Travel South." (Is this material
really the new standard for masculinity? Total inelegance and brute
force?) It's twisted with malice on brutal, snarling electronic cello in
"Arrival," and the electric guitar explosion of the idea in the middle
of "Worm Army" has no heroic semblance at all, though voices and
accelerated rhythms pick up the theme better in the cue's second half.
It shifts back to subtle shades on duduk and electric cello in "You
Fought Well," the groaning basslines under the theme representing
Feyd-Rautha somewhat creatively but still overplaying masculinity worthy
of a villain in the role of victor. Finally, Paul's theme slowly builds
throughout "Lisan al Gaib" on electric guitars with disappointingly
juvenile attempts at awesomeness. That suite track has all the
intelligence of a garage rock band's grungy cover of a movie music theme
and doesn't compete favorably with many of Zimmer's concept suites for
the previous score. The final cues all generate a feeling of oppression
that defy any sense of victory for a protagonist, the masculinity so
toxic that it leaves anthemic territory in favor of brute authoritarian
stupidity.
Although Zimmer pledged not to supply subthemes to
particular concepts in these scores,
Dune: Part Two confirms that
such attributions in the first work were no fluke. The composer had used
an ascending phrase in
Dune's "The Shortening of the Way" that
was distinctly similar to a motif in Toto's 1984 score, itself sharing
some characteristics with Brian Eno's material for that work as well.
That compelling phrase reveals itself to be a leadership motif in
Dune: Part Two, heard first in "Eclipse" and returning in the
latter half of "Southern Messiah" before being rudely interrupted. Most
intriguingly, it barely informs early portions of "The Emperor" before
exploding as his own nasty identity, exhibiting the theme's ability to
represent all leaders, good and evil. Zimmer culminates with the idea at
3:55 into "Only I Will Remain" in an increasingly massive, simplistic
form for choir and synthetics. The Harkonnen are musically short-changed
in this score, the material for that house reintroduced with
frightening, pounding menace in "Harkonnen Arena." Vocal chanting
effects in that cue are promising but cannot save the track from
becoming a percussive and sound effects nightmare with a few foghorn
effects thrown in because, well, it's Zimmer. The more familiar,
pounding Harkonnen theme meandering around key returns in the second
half of "Southern Messiah," though the connections to Beethoven's "Ode
to Joy" are thankfully not as obvious this time. Zimmer does concoct a
new motif for Feyd-Rautha in this score, a slurring, upward bass figure
in "Harkonnen Arena" and (barely) "Seduction." This motif appropriately
dies underneath Paul's theme early in "You Fought Well," maybe the
smartest layering in the score. Other material from
Dune isn't as
impactful, either. The Bene Gesserit vocals return in whispered
chattering subdued by male vocals in the second half of "Resurrection."
There never really has been a true sandworm motif, though Zimmer uses
thumping effects dating back to 1984's
Dune for the worms in
"Worm Army." Altogether,
Dune: Part Two is arguably more thematic
overall, but it doesn't satisfyingly resolve several ideas from the
prior work. The main new theme is ineffective in structure and
personality, dooming the sequel score to the same lack of heart and
compassion. There is no dichotomy between good and evil, no middle
ground in volume, and no reason for such a manipulated soundscape aside
from the composer's need to sound inventive. The 81-minute primary album
contains the opening and closing suite arrangements, and "Ornithopter
Attack" and parts of "Southern Messiah" don't appear in the film. It's a
brutal listening experience, its respites nearly inaudible and the rest
too eager to thrash your ears. Subtlety, elegance, and storytelling be
damned.
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