While predicting the future is something we can only dream of, I have always found that digging into the past reveals recurring patterns that tend to point in a particular direction. Even so, with this year’s Oscar race for the Best Original Score, I have to admit, predicting a winner has proven particularly difficult because, as we shall see, there seem to be two strong contenders for the prize: Hans Zimmer’s Interstellar and Jóhann Jóhannsson’s The Theory of Everything. But by considering several relevant factors I discuss below, I predict that the score that will take home the Oscar on Sunday night will be The Theory of Everything.

Double Nominations

It sometimes happens that more than one score by the same composer is nominated in the same year, as this year with Alexandre Desplat for both The Grand Budapest Hotel and The Imitation Game. Some may feel that such double nominations dash the hopes of such composers due to a splitting of votes in their favor. Whatever the reason, Oscar history shows a distinct pattern. If we omit the early years of the Oscars and begin with 1946, when the list of nominees for Best Original Score (or its equivalent) was shortened from twenty (yes, twenty!) to only five, then there have been twelve years when double nominations occurred. The composer to receive the double nomination lost in eleven of those twelve years, the only exception being 1977, when John Williams won for Star Wars and was also nominated for Close Encounters of the Third Kind. (Ironically, Williams has been on the losing end of a double nomination in seven other years.) This statistic does not bode well for Desplat, especially since it took a film of monumental impact to overcome the disadvantage of the double nomination, and while the films Desplat scored are both highly acclaimed, neither is the phenomenon that Star Wars was. Thus, one could almost eliminate both of Desplat’s scores on this point alone.

Past Oscar Wins

As I noted above, one of the best ways to make an Oscar prediction is to consider recent winners. Over the past ten years, the film that won the Best Score Oscar was also nominated for Best Picture in all ten years. This year, there are three films nominated for both Best Score and Best Picture: The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Imitation Game, and The Theory of Everything. But also consider that in 2009, the number of nominees for Best Picture was expanded from five to ten, then in 2011, changed to between five and ten. With so many nominees, it becomes more likely for a film to receive nominations for both Best Picture and Best Score. So when a Best Score nominee does not also fetch a Best Picture nomination, it appears to be more of a strike against the score in question. This year, there are eight films nominated for Best Picture, meaning that, although there was still room for two more films, no others were esteemed highly enough to make the grade. This includes the two Best Score nominees that did not make the Best Picture list: Mr. Turner and Interstellar. I believe this will be an especially important factor come Oscar night.

It is also significant that of the last ten winners for Best Score, seven of the films have also been nominated for Best Director. This year, only The Grand Budapest Hotel and The Imitation Game are in this category, but they are already at such a disadvantage, this probably means very little.

Other Awards

While not as significant an indicator as Oscar history, the BAFTAs and especially the Golden Globes are also useful to consider. This year, the BAFTA for Original Music went to Desplat’s Grand Budapest, though it is important to note that he was not a double nominee for that award (nor was anyone else). This year’s Golden Globe went to Jóhannsson’s Theory of Everything, and again, there were no double nominees. Over the past ten years, the Golden Globes have been a more reliable predictor of Oscar success than the BAFTAs, the former agreeing with the Oscar winner seven times and the latter only five. From these trends, The Theory of Everything would seem to have the advantage.

Box Office

Of the past ten Best Score winners, all have been from the year’s 100 highest grossing films (domestically). This year, only Mr. Turner does not fit this bill. But we can go somewhat further and note that seven of the last ten winners have been in the highest 50 grossing films, which in this year’s race would leave only The Imitation Game (44th) and Interstellar (16th). By this measure, Interstellar has the clear advantage. (Recall that last year’s winner, Gravity, another space-themed film, was even stronger in this respect, being the 6th-highest grossing film.)

Comparison of the Nominees

What about the scores themselves? How might they help predict a winner? The more distinctive a score is in some way, the more likely it is to be remembered by the voters, and when it comes to music, memorability is certainly a benefit since it is easy not to consciously notice music in a film (well, except for enthusiasts like us). Last year’s Gravity made its mark on most viewers with its use of what I called a “clipped crescendo”, where the climax of a crescendo would be suddenly cut off in synch with an important event onscreen. This made the music hard to miss.

This year’s Grand Budapest Hotel is a very memorable score with its unusual instrumentations and perky rhythms. The Imitation Game is more traditional in its construction and somewhat less prominent, though finely tuned to the film. But in my view, the double nomination will be nearly impossible to overcome for both of these scores. The score for Mr. Turner is distinctive in its chamber-music instrumentation and its dissonant but tonal harmonies, but is probably the least conspicuous score because of its sparing use, at only a half hour in total, and its placement largely in scene transitions, where strong emotions are infrequent. Though it is a highly effective score for the character study that is the film, it will likely be overshadowed by the greater prominence of the music in the other films.

The one score that stands out from the others in terms of its prominence is Interstellar. Although it is often rather soft music, its prevalent use of the pipe organ, an instrument not usually given such a large role in a modern film score, almost demands that the viewer takes notice of the music. The score also made conspicuous use of a clock-like percussion sound in scenes when time was of the essence, drawing attention to the music in an appropriately narrative-driven way.

Despite the prominence of Interstellar’s music, I would argue that the score that made the greatest emotional impact in relation to the film’s narrative was The Theory of Everything. Admittedly, this score does not have the prominence in the film that Interstellar does, but the emotions of its narrative run deeper since it vividly conveys Stephen Hawking’s physical deterioration and the ensuing difficulties it causes between he and his wife Jane. But the film also explores Stephen’s remarkable impulse to continue on in the face of adversity. In these respects, there are many scenes that stand out for their musical contribution. When Stephen tries to climb the stairs for the last time before becoming wheelchair-bound, the music expresses not Stephen’s struggle, but our sympathy for him in witnessing his still young body giving out. Or consider the scene where, while watching the fireplace through a sweater that is stuck over his face, Stephen becomes inspired with his next great idea, which, as I noted in the analysis of this score, is made clear with striking visual imagery. In both of these scenes, the music is soft and understated, yet profoundly effective in communicating the emotional content of the scene. For these reasons, I would place The Theory of Everything at a slightly higher level than Interstellar concerning more subjective aspects.

Conclusion

In deciding between Interstellar and The Theory of Everything to win the Oscar for Best Original Score, I have chosen the latter. To be sure, Interstellar has blockbuster status, being near the top of the year’s highest-grossing films, and its use of the pipe organ encourages viewers to listen consciously the score. But The Theory of Everything has the all-important Best Picture nomination, some momentum from its Golden Globe win, and a highly emotional narrative that allows Jóhannsson’s subtleties to shine at key moments in the film.

Then again, as I have said in previous years, this is the Oscars we’re talking about, and there is nothing preventing any of the other scores from winning. But if we’re going to go with the most probable winner, then The Theory of Everything it is.

English composer Gary Yershon has largely staked out his career in various realms of dramatic music, scoring mainly for theater but also for television, radio, and film. His experience in writing original music for feature films has been for the recent films of director Mike Leigh, including Happy-Go-Lucky (2008), Another Year (2010), and now Mr. Turner (2014), which marks his first Oscar nomination for Best Original Score.

Mike Leigh’s films are by no means of standard fare. His filmmaking process relies on actors’ improvisations on a basic premise and intensive, method-like acting, which involves such techniques as thorough study of characters’ psychological motivations, personal identification with their emotions, and rehearsal of hypothetical scenes for character development. Filming begins only once the content of the scenes have solidified and been polished up.

As a result, Mr. Turner, a film based on the late life of the English pre-Impressionist painter J.W.H. Turner, is remarkably lifelike, focusing on dialogue, facial expressions, and character interactions that simply ring true. With this emphasis on realistic portrayal, non-diegetic music—which is unrealistic by its nature, standing outside the world of the characters—is necessarily pushed to the sidelines both in placement and overall length at roughly thirty minutes for the whole score. Thus, while most films use non-diegetic music to accompany particularly emotional scenes, music in Mr. Turner is absent even when emotions seem to run high, as when Turner witnesses his ailing father’s death, falls in love with Mrs. Booth, or feels compassion for the struggling fellow painter Benjamin Haydon.

Instead, Yershon’s score primarily performs three other functions that non-diegetic music can have. First, it serves as connective fabric across the film’s transitions from one scene to another. Second, although it rarely offers insight into the thoughts of the characters at particular moments, it does suggest several of Turner’s traits more generally, in a way not unlike character themes in other films. And third, it loosely suggests an emotional arc that corresponds with Turner’s character. I explore each of these functions in the following film music analysis of Yershon’s score.

Transitions

Most of the non-diegetic music in Mr. Turner appears in transitions or miniature montages, when dialogue is minimal or absent and brief segments are strung together before settling into the next scene. Along with the emphasis on highly refined acting and meticulous attention to gesture and dialogue, this marginal use of music gives the film the feel of a luxuriously-produced filmed play, which speaks to Leigh’s extensive experience in theater. In Mr. Turner, the transitions usually involve relatively large shifts in time or place and so, without music, could be quite disorienting. As Claudia Gorbman remarks of the “classical Hollywood” score (ca. 1930-1950) in her book on film music, Unheard Melodies:

As an auditory continuity [music] seems to mitigate visual, spatial, or temporal discontinuity. Montage sequences—calendar pages flipping, newspaper headlines spanning a period of time, citizen Kane and his wife growing apart at the breakfast table over the years—are almost invariably accompanied by music.

Music also bridges gaps between scenes or segments; … Typically, music might begin shortly before the end of scene A and continue over into scene B.

It is unusual, however, for this transitional function to be a score’s primary usage in a film. In Mr. Turner, the transitions most often depict Turner sketching in the natural landscape, and a few are more like short montages, as when his father quickly declines in health and when Turner is seen shortly after his father’s death, fishing then walking to a brothel.

Many of the transitions in Mr. Turner are also unusual in that the music begins after the beginning of the next scene rather than before it. This reduced reliance on non-diegetic music not only gives the scenes a greater feeling of reality, but also endows them with a starkness that allows the events onscreen to speak for themselves in a powerful, and sometimes uncomfortably gritty, way. After the scene where Turner “has his way” with his housemaid, for instance, there is a sudden cut to the artist walking through the landscape. Only after a few seconds does the music enter, allowing the shock of the previous scene to be retained a moment later, enhancing its effect on the viewer.

General Characterization

Since the score is essentially relegated to the transitions, it does not function in the usual manner, in which the emotions of the characters are clarified within various scenes. Nevertheless, the score does contain three themes that suggest aspects of Turner’s personality as portrayed in the film. Here is the first theme to appear:

In the first entrance of this theme in the main title, the unaccompanied instrument—a sopranino saxophone—instantly implies an element of solitude, which corresponds with Turner’s romantic situation for much of the film. The saxophone, however, is played with a piercing tone and moves between many of its pitches with a sliding technique known as glissando, all the while winding downward in a strange, chromatic line. Not even a regular pulse is present to give the theme some grounding in a rhythmic meter. These attributes produce an odd, unappealing sound that one could easily liken to Turner’s often uninviting social manner, which frequently consists of various forms of grunts in place of a verbal response.

A second theme appears within the same main title cue, one that seems to function as an alternate or perhaps an extension of the more pervasive first theme:

This second theme is set in a regular meter, has a discernible tonal center, and is usually scored for string quartet, all of which can be heard to evoke the more dignified side of Turner that we see mainly in connection with his peers at the prestigious Royal Academy of Arts. At the same time, the music is mildly dissonant, suggesting that residues of Turner’s abrasive manner remain even in these more respectful settings. Take, for instance, his “improvement” of one of John Constable’s paintings by unilaterally deciding to paint a bright red buoy in the foreground of a seascape, which naturally raises Constable’s ire.

The main title contains a third theme that sounds as follows:

This theme is scored for the clarinet in the instrument’s warm, low register, or what is known as its chalumeau register. Along with its clear major-key setting, the theme suggests something of Turner’s softer, tender side that we see, for instance, in his relationship with his father and especially with Mrs. Booth. Notably, we hear the theme when William is shopping in the market for Turner, and as the widow Mrs. Booth and Turner walk happily through a meadow, arm-in-arm. Together, the three themes sounded in the main title cue help to establish some of the contradictions of Turner’s character, which figure prominently in the film.

Turner’s Emotional Arc

Late in Mr. Turner, a handful of scenes state a fourth theme that, together with the first three described above, traces the general emotional arc of Turner’s character.

We first hear this new theme as Turner has himself tied to a ship’s mast in order to witness a sea storm first hand. It also appears when Turner and a few friends row along the Thames, viewing the “Fighting Temeraire,” an old military ship that became the subject of one of Turner’s most famous paintings (seen below).

The theme then returns when the view of a landscape with a passing train that is emitting steam inspires a new painting from Turner. It occurs one last time as we see the artist sitting on a pier, sketching the seaside.

The above scenes not only depict Turner observing the objects of his fascination, but also in happier times, as he is in a relationship with Mrs. Booth and has taken to spending more time with her. As a result, we see a side of Turner that was not apparent before—a nurturing, loving side that further adds to the apparent contradictions of the character. (His attitude towards his ex-mistress and two daughters, for instance, is one of complete apathy.)

Up until the entrance of this fourth theme, the music has been dominated by the three Turner themes discussed above, most of which express either negative traits or his more business-like side. In focusing instead on his more positive aspects, the fourth theme corresponds to the shift we witness in Turner to a more contented state of mind. The theme suggests these positive aspects in several ways, perhaps most obviously in its clear projection of a tonal center. The melody begins on the note A and descends through E to the A an octave lower. Together, these notes A-E-A strongly establish A as a center. It is also in a slower tempo than the other themes and employs tones in various instruments throughout the score (here, a soprano and sopranino saxophone) that are mellower than the high, piercing saxophone of the first theme. These qualities all endow the theme with a more placid atmosphere that corresponds with Turner’s more positive attitude in the latter part of the film. Although there remains some dissonance in the theme’s harmony, it is a very mild dissonance that is subsumed within a more stable and pleasant environment, as though suggesting that Turner’s more abrasive side has been tamed by his romance with Mrs. Booth.

Conclusion

Unlike traditional film scores, Gary Yershon’s Mr. Turner functions mainly at the film’s peripheries in transitions and montages. Yet it still manages to capture general aspects of both Turner’s character and his emotional trajectory through the film. All of these functions reflect the fact that the film is less a biopic on J.W.H. Turner as it is a character study of him done in a very realistic way. As such, non-diegetic music has a small part to play, expressing broad aspects of the character and his progression only “from a distance”, and allowing the naturalistic scenes to speak largely for themselves.

Coming soon… Interstellar.