The approach by Gregson-Williams to
The Martian
has significant thought put into its constructs, instrumentation, and
tone. It's a surprisingly intelligent score for a circumstance in which
an ambient musical presence was assumed a foregone conclusion. It is
still a pensive and low-key score for most of its length, but its
balance of genre-defying instrumentation of multiple ages and
alternation between intensely intimate, churning, solemn passages and
heroically muscular fantasy grandeur is notable. The variety of
instrumental colors applied to
The Martian is immense, giving it
a worldly feel that defies classification into any particular sub-genre
within film music, though it's tempting to describe the whole as a retro
work that combines the electronic textures of vintage Vangelis and Wendy
Carlos with slightly more recent techniques utilized by Thomas Newman
and Jerry Goldsmith, all the while hints of Gregson-Williams' own
ambient mannerisms and thematic structures do shine through. This is
primarily an electronic score, with groaning synthetic tones of
alienation harkening back obviously to Vangelis'
Blade Runner and
1980's keyboarding taking the serious alternative to Henry Jackman's
comedy pilfering of the
Tron era brought back to life on screen
more recently by Daft Punk. The bell and bowl effects bring Tom Newman
into the equation, and these contributions are manipulated
electronically to merge them seamlessly with the other highlighted
textures. These textures are alienating in ways but also feature an
earthiness to their rendering, a carry-over from Vangelis' later works
which capture both the inhospitable atmosphere of Mars and the
protagonist's conquering of it for survival. The orchestral elements
supply multitudes of solo performances, led by the composer's affinity
for cello and piano, though there is a touch of Goldsmith and James
Horner in the solo trumpet and especially French horn passages. The
composer passes his main theme through so many different instruments
that it experiences a heck of a journey itself during this score,
beginning on muted, solo electric guitar and finishing in triumphant,
fully orchestral form. The bulk of the score for
The Martian is
understated, often exploring either a recurring rhythmic figure or the
work's one main melodic identity. Fans of the move will recall the three
or four really vibrant and bold symphonic expressions of hope, and these
sequences are indeed quite impressive, but Gregson-Williams earned his
pay for this film in the quieter cues. There is a distinct deference to
scientific methodology and persistence in the rhythmic nature of these
ambient cues, a solitary but determined sense of process and order in
their movement and precision.
The frequently referenced main theme for
The
Martian is a series of three rising two-note phrases followed by a
three-note descending phrase that sometimes launches off into an
interlude upon the achievement of success or hope in the story. Heard
immediately but faintly in "Mars," this idea permeates the softer
portions of the score on piano, French horn, electric guitar, or cello.
Its major ensemble performances are quite magnificent by comparison, a
successful dichotomy by Gregson-Williams to plainly herald in the
triumphs of the story. These passages in "Making Water," "Messages From
Hermes," "Crossing Mars," and "Fly Like Iron Man" are among the best
career achievements by the composer. The Wendy Carlos variation on the
ensemble idea in "Making Water" is countered by an almost urban, cool,
and hip, purely Gregson-Williams version in "Messages From Hermes" while
"Crossing Mars" offers hints of Hans Zimmer counterpoint over the theme
and "Fly Like Iron Man" presents an almost blissful cross between
Vangelis magnificence and James Horner melodramatics (especially in the
French horn). In between, you hear Goldsmith influences in the handling
of solo flutes and trumpets in their skittish rhythmic presence.
Gregson-Williams' nurturing of common, ascending rhythmic formations
under this theme builds to a culmination in "Fly Like Iron Man" that has
undeniable defiance of gravity at heart. The singular emotional
breakthrough in the score is the purely Vangelis conveyance of wonder at
2:34 into that cue, with rambling Horner piano and later French horn
solos to melt the heart. Not long after, the rhythmic platform develops
into a full-fledged secondary theme of victory carried by the ensemble
over muscular male vocals for the concluding highlight of the score, a
lovely close to a turbulent journey. The choral impact on
The
Martianshould be mentioned as somewhat curious, not in its balance
of ethereal background presence in several later cues and in the form of
a boy solo in the heartbreaking "Crops Are Dead," but in the album
release's liner notes that specify that Gregson-Williams supposedly left
behind the ensemble choral "aaahs" and "ooohs" in favor of actual Latin
spoken lyrics. And yet, despite the lyrics for these cues provided on
the same liner notes, the actual music resorts back to the typical
wordless vocalizations. This oddity exists on both the score-only
presentation on album and in the short suite of score music on the song
compilation (a merging of parts of "Making Water" and "Crossing Mars").
On CD, you can hear both presentations in one product, and
Gregson-Williams' score is a solid and intelligent, genre and
era-bending listening experience with a few magnificent ensemble
highlights marking his best blockbuster music in many years.
**** @Amazon.com: CD or
Download
