Therein lies the conundrum that is the soundtrack for Gravity, music that strives to address a somewhat conventional storytelling perspective through a dichotomy of sounds that don't always make sense. In other words, if this is the score that Bullock's character hears in her own head, then does all the nearly stifling electronic manipulation of the music suggest that she is a robot herself? Of course not. A person blinded by science and without a romantic heart? Certainly not based on the story. A person delusional because of fear? This is Price's only escape hatch, and he's counting on the transformation of the score from one extreme (total sound design) to another (absolute tonal bliss of a large scale) to reflect the character's proximity to salvation. The word salvation is important in this context, because Price also infuses a slight sense of religious atmosphere to the score, whether in the application of a broadly-conceived organ or vocals ranging from ethereal solos to the outright gospel celebration at the end. Until the final minutes of the score, though, Price is sure to bolster your feeling of alienation through extremely unpleasant electronic manipulation of substantially organic tones, an array of soloists recorded separately and altered significantly until the pathos of the sound matches the abrasive nature of the level of panic in each scene. Make no mistake about it; Gravity is an extremely unpleasant listening experience apart from the film, its prickly, forbidding, and distant demeanor reminiscent of James Horner's Vibes at its darkest, dominating all but a ten-minute section of victorious music near the end when the major key is afforded some breath. The idea of battling the design against the traditional tonality and eventually shifting from one to the other is excellent, and one can hear melodic development over time that will vaguely remind of Trevor Jones, with whom Price has worked. To be debated is whether Price sells out too far in either direction at the beginning and end, opting not for subtlety in transformation but rather outright transcendence not to be missed by a five-year-old. Given that the entirety of the album for Gravity is such a daunting challenge to appreciate without trying to relive the film, it would be interesting to study the design and tonal portions alone, separately, to determine their merit outside of that brazen transformation. Some would argue that such a separation of components would ultimately defeat the entire point of the score, and they're probably right.

There is one aspect of Gravity that can be praised almost universally, and that is Price's ability to keep the whole of the work from sounding derivative. There are individual usages that are conventional and somewhat tired, such as the use of a heartbeat effect through portions of the score to match the level of anxiety in the main character. This, among other insertions in the mix, has a touch of Ennio Morricone to it. Likewise, a fair number of the manipulations can be traced back to other sources, the altered strings most specifically. But none of these has a profoundly negative impact on the score like the crescendo to a sudden out that plagues a number of cues throughout the work. As obnoxious as backwards edits of organic sounds can be, even they cannot compete with the massively irritating technique of building a tone to a frenzy and then cutting it off suddenly. Price does this at the end of countless cues in Gravity, and it is a cheap and unacceptable method of hitting a synchronization point that is deserving of lesser films than this. The score opens with such a dissonant buildup to silence and sets the stage for twenty minutes of quite horrifying tones of despair. In "Don't Let Go," however, Price does introduce shades of the main romantic theme for the film that would eventually dominate the last three major cues. Fortunately, this identity for Bullock's character is outstanding, evolving from vague string and vocal shades to solo piano and eventually fully-expressed, mostly easy orchestral harmony at the end. The secondary sequence in this theme is downright lovely in its progressions. As mentioned before, however, the tone of the vocals in "Gravity" is over the top, especially when merged with the trumpet figures and other heroic devices. Those seeking the accessible highlights of this score will want to explore the final two cues despite continued manipulated passages in that material. This is, in the end, a thinking person's score, one not meant for enjoyment on album as much as analysis of technique. It's a great work to review in a context like this, because it plays to topics of the psyche and tradition that are debatable in a film such as Cuaron's. The merits of the execution of the score's intent suggest four stars in rating here, but the unacceptably obnoxious cut-off crescendos alone (including the one to end the score) unfortunately reduce this score back to a more average three-star middle. Function as well as it may at times in the picture, this music, like that depiction as a whole, suffers from a few logical fallacies, those for the score involving the perspective from which it is supposed to be interpreted.  ***   @Amazon.com: CD or Download