This year’s passing of legendary film composer Ennio Morricone prompted me to reflect on what makes his film music of such broad appeal. Morricone himself offered a very fitting answer in a recent book of conversations from 2013–2015 with Alessandro De Rosa titled In His Own Words, in which De Rosa asks the composer this very question about his music for Sergio Leone’s films:

I think it is due to their sound, which is not by chance the same sort of aspect rock bands research: an identifiable sonorous timbre, a sound. Moreover, I think that a great part is also due to the singability of the melodic lines and their harmonies: invariably in every piece there are very easy chord sequences. Lastly, I am certain that Sergio’s films spoke to many generations precisely because he was an innovative filmmaker who intentionally left space for the music to be listened to.

No doubt, Morricone is right on all these points. And to this list we could add the virtuosity of his performers, for example in A Fistful of Dollars, the trumpet player Michele Lacerenza and the whistler Alessandro Alessandroni. But there is another key point he does not mention that I believe is crucial to these scores’ success: their integration with the core ideas of each film, in other words, the way in which the main ideas of each film are enhanced through Morricone’s music. This three-post series will examine just how these three scores of Morricone achieve this integration. Moreover, as discussed in De Rosa’s book, Morricone’s scores to the Dollars films reveal a fascinating evolution in which this integration of music and film becomes increasingly tighter across the trilogy. We begin with the film that started it all, A Fistful of Dollars, and hone in on its two prominent themes: the main theme and the duel theme.

The Main Theme

From the mid to late 1950s and up to A Fistful of Dollars in 1964, Morricone worked for Italian radio broadcaster RAI arranging popular-style music, and for RCA creating popular-song arrangements. Through this experience, Morricone always experimented quite a bit, saying “I tried to vary as much as I could to break the rules of the craft and avoid boredom.”[efn_note]De Rosa, In His Own Words, 10.[/efn_note]

The main theme of A Fistful of Dollars is used mainly for the film’s protagonist, Clint Eastwood’s famous “man with no name” (though some call him “Joe” in this film). And the theme isn’t simply influenced by Morricone’s popular-scoring background, indeed it is a lightly adapted form of his arrangement of “Pastures of Plenty” a song for Californian singer Peter Tevis. Listen to a bit of the arrangement below:

Morricone’s arrangement of this song completely transforms the original setting by the song’s composer, singer-songwriter Woody Guthrie. Listen to a few seconds here:

Of his arrangement of the song for Tevis, Morricone says,

my thought was to put listeners in touch with the faraway pastures described by Guthrie; this is why I inserted the timbres of the whip and the [clay] whistle. The bells were intended to suggest the countryman who longs for the life in the city, away from his daily routine.

This kind of musical imagery is a perfect fit for Eastwood’s Joe, a lone gunfighter who rides from town to town through the western frontier. But in arranging this music for the film, Morricone makes a very important change: the sung melody is replaced with a new melody that is whistled. As De Rosa states in his discussion with Morricone on Fistful, “among the timbres you used, the whistle is perhaps the most primitive but also the most intimate one: in a world in which life is not worth much, to whistle at night by the fire with pride and a bit of boldness is the only way to keep loneliness away.”[efn_note]De Rosa, In His Own Words, 27[/efn_note]

And since the whistling is used for the theme’s most prominent part—the melody—it focuses our attention on this appropriate blend of the primitive (everyone killing each other), the intimate (developing sympathy for the protagonist), the bold (Joe performing many such actions throughout the film), and the lonely (he is always forced to relinquish any friendships he forms, because either he or his friends must flee to avoid danger). So even though this theme is essentially Morricone’s arrangement for Tevis imported into Leone’s film, he nevertheless had the acumen to see how appropriate this choice of music was. And it was the result of careful thought on Morricone’s part, as he made clear in a conversation with musicologist Sergio Miceli:

I have always believed that the inventive use of tone color is one of a film composer’s most important means of expression. Under the influence of this way of thinking, I began to experiment with music made expressly for the stage, but above all for the protagonist in Per un pugno di dollari (A Fistful of Dollars) (1964) and all Leone’s other films. The western helped me, because the genre, at least as Leone intended it, is picaresque, exaggerated, excessive, playful, dramatic, entertaining, and caustic.

The caricatured figure of the protagonist is delightfully forced by the director. … In the presence of this kind of direction, especially a director used to excellent results, it was necessary for me to use unusual sounds that would be able to equal these excesses. … Everything, including the soundtrack, had to appear to be much more than it really was. Thus, therefore, I called for bells, whip, whistling, anvil, clay whistle, voices, and … so many other things.[efn_note]Ennio Morricone and Sergio Miceli, Composing for the Cinema: The Theory and Praxis of Music in Film, 167.[/efn_note]

Listen to the full theme here:

The Duel Theme

For the music that accompanied the film’s climactic duel between Joe and the fearsome members of the Rojo gang, Sergio Leone had initially wanted to use the piece he had used in the temp track, Dimitri Tiomkin’s “Degüello” from Rio Bravo (1959). Morricone describes his own response:

I told him, “if you use it, I quit.” And I did—in 1963, a year in which I was penniless! Shortly after, Leone stepped back and allowed me more freedom, although he was annoyed. “Ennio, I ain’t asking you to imitate it, just come up with somethin’ similar…”

What was he trying to say by that? That I had to stick to what that scene meant to him: a death dance fitting a southern Texas atmosphere, where, according to Sergio, the tradition of Mexico and the United States blended.

To respond to this compromise I took a lullaby I had composed years before for Eugene O’Neill’s Plays of the Sea and sneaked it in without saying anything to him. I rearranged it in a more incisive way so as to extol the mounting solemnity of the trumpet leading the viewers into the duel. I played it for him at the piano, and I saw he was convinced.

“It’s perfect, it’s perfect….But you must make it sound similar to ‘Degüello.’”

As we will hear shortly, Tiomkin’s and Morricone’s cues have a similar sound in terms of melody, accompaniment, and orchestration. So one may ask why Morricone kicked up such a fuss if his theme apparently doesn’t sound so different from Tiomkin’s. In part, it was due to Morricone’s personal integrity and not wanting to mimic another composer’s cue. But this integrity combined with Leone’s insistence was a recipe for greatness. If one listens to both cues all the way through, as we will in a moment, it becomes clear that Morricone did not simply imitate Tiomkin with minor changes, he created a cue that I argue is superior to Tiomkin’s for the final duel because of the dramatic arc of the theme as a whole.

To demonstrate this point, I have created a video replacing Morricone’s duel music with Tiomkin’s “Degüello” as Leone had initially wanted. As we will see, both Tiomkin’s and Morricone’s cues fall into three main sections, which correspond with the scene itself since it unfolds into three non-verbal parts before the dialogue begins. These parts are:

1. Smoke and Mystery Man – The explosion Joe sets off behind the town and the resulting smoke conceals his identity, preparing for a dramatic entrance as the smoke blows away.
2. Mystery Man Revealed – The Rojos realize that the mystery man is Joe and their looks to him and each other betray their uneasy reactions to him.
3. Preparing for Gunfight – Joe approaches the Rojos and they take their positions in the town square for a gunfight.

In terms of timing, Tiomkin’s cue actually fits quite well, with the three musical sections being about the same length as the three narrative parts. But what is sorely missing here is a sense of drama. Tiomkin’s cue falls into a large ABA pattern, but it lacks any sense of climax as it doesn’t intensify through melody, harmony, orchestration, etc. It’s a fine piece of music with an unmistakably Mexican flavor, but for this particular scene, as the gunfighters prepare for their final confrontation, there really ought to be some sort of intensification through the music, especially since there is no dialogue and the music is the focus of attention. Here is the clip rescored with Tiomkin’s music:

As I mentioned before, Morricone’s cue for the scene has three sections that correspond with the scene’s three parts. But the cue instead falls into a structure of AA’B (+ short coda), where the “prime” symbol (which looks like an apostrophe) indicates a variation of the original A section. The short coda is based on the A section, but it is much shorter than A or B, so is more of an appendage to the cue than a section in its own right.

What becomes clear in Morricone’s cue is an overarching dramatic shape that infuses the scene with a greater intensity than Tiomkin’s could have, and provides the film with a fitting sense of culmination as Joe faces the deadly Rojo gang alone.

The first A section announces the theme at a low level of intensity, appropriately enough for the clouds of smoke surrounding the mystery man. The A’ section increases the intensity subtly at first by adding a male choir then more prominently in its latter portion by adding higher notes in the accompaniment (listen for the female choir and high violins), by becoming louder through a crescendo, and by stretching out a dominant chord over several bars that heightens the need for resolution. This intensification tells us that, with the mystery man now revealed, worry is mounting among the Rojos that perhaps what Joe wants with them is a duel.

The B section arrives just as Joe begins to approach the Rojos, confirming that a gunfight is indeed what he has come for. Morricone’s music here renders this confirmation a climax of the scene and dramatically emphasizes the showdown that is about to follow. Not only is this the loudest part of the entire cue, but it is also where the trumpet melody and full choir are the highest, and where the long dominant chord of the A’ section finally resolves to the home key tonic. There is no mistaking that this is a central moment in the film, as is clearly intended by Leone with the long wordless lead-up to the battle.

The coda based on A serves to close out the cue on a softer note, so as not to suggest that a fatal shot will be fired immediately after. Morricone’s music simply points to the entire gunfight (beginning with the men taking their positions in the town square) as the climactic event in the film, and it does so in an entirely musical way that coordinates perfectly with the three narrative parts of the sequence. While Tiomkin’s music also divides neatly among these three parts, its structure does not highlight the ensuing gunfight as a pivotal event since dramatically it remains more or less the same throughout. This is why I say that Morricone’s solution is by far the superior one.

Now watch the scene again with Morricone’s music:

Conclusion

As we have seen, the two themes in A Fistful of Dollars are very well integrated into the core ideas of the film. It may therefore be surprising to learn that Morricone himself held the score in very low esteem, saying “to be frank, despite the consensus that it received, I still think that that music was among the worst I have ever composed for a movie.”[efn_note]De Rosa, In His Own Words, 27[/efn_note] Perhaps Morricone was unhappy with what he perceived as a lack of refinement in the score since he was to take this style to even greater heights in the next two films of the trilogy (as we will see!). Even so, most of the elements that we associate with Morricone’s Leone-western style are already present in the score for Fistful, and I hope to have shown in part how they are nevertheless a brilliant solution to the needs of the film.

Coming soon… For a Few Dollars More

In most film scores, themes are usually associated with a single character. This is the case, for example, with the previous two themes examined in this blog series: those for Jill and Cheyenne. But the other prominent theme in Once Upon a Time in the West is actually associated with both the mysterious Harmonica (Charles Bronson) and the cold-blooded Frank (Henry Fonda). As Robert Cumbow describes in his book, The Films of Sergio Leone, this is an example of what he calls “theme sharing”, and this particular instance of it “represents not a character but a collision—not only the debt between the two men but also the one means of final resolution to which they have recourse.”

Of course, on one level, these characters do possess their own themes, Harmonica the wavering, unharmonized harmonica line, Frank the menacing, leaping melody usually played by an electric guitar. But in their most powerful statements in the film, these themes are combined into one, for example in the youngest McBain boy’s fatal meeting with Frank and his posse, or in the tavern where Cheyenne swings a lamp towards Harmonica, who sits in a dark corner, or indeed during Frank and Harmonica’s final showdown. The film music analysis presented here will focus on this particular version of the theme, as heard below in the cue titled “Man with a Harmonica”:

As noted in the previous posts of this series, Morricone’s highly recognizable style derives largely from his adherence to a relatively small group of musical techniques. And as we have seen, Morricone himself has drawn attention to his use of both timbre and intervals in his film music, especially for the films of Sergio Leone:

Certainly the theme [in general] is extremely important, even if I personally have always considered it of little significance. For this reason, especially in the first films of Leone but also … on many occasions afterward, I have attempted to distinguish it, to subtract it from its conventional function. In some cases I have augmented the result with timbre, in others with the pursuit of a theme made of intervals.

Orchestration

Like the other major themes in Once Upon a Time in the West, much of the impact of “Man with a Harmonica” stems from its colourful use of musical timbres. The cue opens with a solo on the harmonica, itself an unusual instrument for film scores of the time. But this opening gradually builds to the theme proper, which is announced with the aggressive sound of a type of electric guitar called a Fender Stratocaster. It is not merely the inclusion of these instruments that contributes to the unique sound of this cue but, more importantly, their combination with those of the traditional orchestra and, in the cue’s middle section, even a wordless choir.

Morricone and the “Micro-cell”

“Man with a Harmonica” certainly qualifies as a cue that Morricone composed as “a theme made of intervals.” And yet, it goes somewhat further than simply restating a certain interval throughout the theme. As musicologist and Morricone specialist Sergio Miceli writes,

Morricone’s non-film works form a large and increasingly widely performed part of his output. Many of them use his technique of “micro-cells”, a pseudo-serial approach often incorporating modal and tonal allusions, which, with its extreme reduction of compositional materials, has much in common with his film-music techniques.

If an interval describes the relationship between only two notes, we might define a micro-cell as going a step further and incorporating three notes. The difference between a micro-cell and a more traditional motif is that the micro-cell has no set rhythm, nor a prescribed order of its pitches. What remains constant is the relationships among the three notes, or more simply, the intervals they form with one another, which may occur right-side-up or upside-down (inverted). This technique has more in common with twentieth-century modernist music than film music, but Morricone imports it into his eclectic film music style, which is why Miceli describes it as a “pseudo-serial” approach (serial referring to twelve-tone music).

The First Section

In the Frank/Harmonica theme, the melody of the theme proper divides into two large sections, the first of which is longer and contains four short phrases (1:05-1:54 in the above recording), and the second containing five shorter phrases (1:54-2:35). In the first section, the opening phrase begins with the three-note fragment, A-E-B, giving the direct intervals of a perfect fifth (A-E) and a perfect fourth (E-B). But in a more long-range sense, we can measure the interval between the first and last note as well, which gives a major second. With these three intervals, Morricone forms the micro-cell from which he derives the rest of the theme’s melody:

Micro-cell of the Frank/Harmonica Theme

This micro-cell appears throughout the theme in various forms, each of which is shown beneath a square bracket in the following analysis and will be explained below:

The second phrase (at 1:18) begins with a prominent octave leap, which we might regard as a kind of enhanced repetition of a pitch. After all, in musical notation, all notes that are one or more octaves apart have the same letter name, suggesting that an octave leap represents another version of the same pitch (an idea called “octave equivalence”). In the theme, the intervals after the octave leap are a major second and a perfect fifth, forming another statement of the micro-cell. The perfect fourth, which may seem to be missing, occurs between the first and last notes of this micro-cell, A-E. Notice that the notes stated here, A-B-E, are a rearranged form of those in the initial micro-cell, A-E-B. Hence it is easy to hear how these phrases belong together as two forms of the same idea.

Even the third phrase (at 1:30) outlines a perfect fourth (now filled in with stepwise motion) and a perfect fifth, and the first and last notes span the micro-cell’s major second. In this case, the cell is also transposed, so the original A-E-B becomes E-A-D. Again, notice how the order of intervals are rearranged from the previous two statements: the first began with the perfect fifth, the second with a major second, and the third with the perfect fourth. It is almost as though Morricone is systematically shifting the micro-cell to keep it sounding fresh with each statement.

The fourth and final phrase of the theme’s first section (at 1:42) gives yet another statement of the micro-cell, only now the intervals of the fourth and fifth have been stretched by a step to reach a fifth and a sixth. Again, the phrase sounds cogently tied to what preceded it but with a new twist that allows larger, more dramatic intervals to conclude the theme’s first section in a musically satisfying way.

The Second Section

The first two phrases of the second section (at 1:54 and 2:01) begin like those of the first, but with the rhythms of the micro-cell now accelerated to twice their original speed. This gives a clear indication of a rise in tension here, a feeling augmented by Morricone’s addition of a fuller orchestration involving violins on the melody, entrance of the wordless choir, a militaristic rhythm hammered out by bass and snare drum, and numerous expressive dissonances in the inner voices created by the use of suspensions.

At the third phrase of the section (at 2:07), the music breaks out into a new use of the micro-cell, marked by a striking modulation to a new key (C major). Here, the cell is employed with more flexibility as the initial note is returned to before stating the third note. (This figure of moving stepwise to a note then returning back to the original is called a neighbour note, and is an extremely common melodic device in Morricone. Of course, such a simple figure is common in all tonal music, but it occurs with particular frequency in Morricone’s music, and hence can be considered one of his signature melodic devices). The fourth phrase (at 2:14) uses a similar neighbour note, but now in the opposite direction.

Notice that even the innocuous three-note lead-in to the fourth phrase (at 2:13-2:14) also states the micro-cell, though now with its last note (C) shifted to a higher octave. Had this C been set an octave lower, we would have had a version of the cell that we have already heard (in the third phrase of the first section). Once again, Morricone ensures we do not tire of so simple a melodic cell by endlessly varying its statements.

The fifth and final phrase of the section (at 2:19) involves a statement of the cell that is highlighted as the climax of the entire theme. Now the cell is stretched out over three bars as opposed to two like every other phrase in the section. Moreover, like the final statement of the first section, the intervals of the cell are enlarged by a step such that the rising perfect fifth and falling perfect fourth now become a rising minor sixth and falling diminished fifth. The rising minor sixth in particular is a dramatic and highly expressive interval, one that is often used to describe something tragic, perhaps the most famous example being the opening of Wagner’s prelude to Tristan und Isolde, which begins with the same interval (though played very softly):

Finally, the diminished fifth of the theme, which is the last interval of the micro-cell, is now filled in with gradually descending steps, as though moving towards an inevitable outcome. Musically, that outcome is the arrival of the final note of the theme proper, the tonic note of its key of A minor, which signifies resolution. Appropriately, this resolution is coordinated with the moment we first see Frank’s face in the film, which, in one of the most stunning instances of anti-type-casting in all of cinema, reveals the bad guy to be none other than Henry Fonda, the beloved hero of countless American western films.

Other Melodic Devices

The Turn Figure

In addition to the pervasive micro-cell, “Man with a Harmonica” illustrates several other melodic devices that are a regular part of Morricone’s style. Recall, for instance, that both Jill’s theme and Cheyenne’s theme made use of various forms of the turn figure:

In the Frank/Harmonica theme, Turn 1 appears as a link between the first and second phrases in the first section (at 1:16-1:17 and 1:14-1:42 in the recording), and between the first and second phrases in the second section (at 1:59-2:01). These figures are highlighted in the analysis below:

The 5-#4-5 Figure

The introduction to the cue begins with the lone harmonica line, which wavers between E, D#, and the occasional C as well. In the cue’s key of A minor, the E and D# are notes 5 and #4 of the scale. Traditionally, this kind of wavering between 5, #4, and back to 5 suggests something mysterious and perhaps even inscrutable, an appropriate expression for the character of Harmonica, whose story is revealed to the audience only gradually through progressively clearer flashbacks. No doubt, the connotations of mystery in the 5-#4-5 figure explain its appearance in other mystery-filled music like Hedwig’s theme from the Harry Potter films, and “Aquarium” from Saint-Säens’ Carnival of the Animals, both of which may be heard below:

In “Man with a Harmonica”, the sense of mystery is enhanced not only by the rhythmically free setting of the solo harmonica line, which does not suggest any sort of meter, but also by the heavy reverberation effect, which obscures the sound and gives it the impression of approaching from the distance, much like Harmonica’s blurry flashbacks in the film.

Ostinato

When instruments of the orchestra enter the cue, the three-note figure E-C-D# associated with Harmonica is repeated in a straight rhythm to become an ostinato. This regular repetition of notes clarifies the pulse of the cue but not yet its meter, which is hinted at by the long bass notes and finally confirmed with the entrance of the electric guitar. Once again, like Harmonica’s flashbacks in the film, the substance of this theme only gradually comes into focus as it proceeds.

Harmony

The first two phrases of the theme’s opening section are built on a bass line that begins on the tonic A and falls three steps to its dominant, E. When set in a minor key as it is here, this four-note pattern is referred to as a lament bass, because of its long association in classical music with expressions of grief and despair.

While Morricone does not employ the lament bass specifically in many of his film cues, its first three notes, descending by step from the tonic, recall the first three bass notes of the plagal thirds progression, which underlies the beginning of Jill’s theme and the B section of Cheyenne’s theme. The chords involved in Morricone’s setting of the lament bass move from the minor tonic down to the dominant chord in the progression i-v⁶-VI-V, the first three of which are essentially the same as those of the plagal thirds progression.Thus, all three of the major themes in the film share a common musical element that helps to identify Morricone’s style despite the drastically different emotions each theme conveys.

Conclusion

Through this three-part series on Ennio Morricone’s classic score for Once Upon a Time in the West, we have seen that the composer’s highly recognizable style relies on the repetition of a relatively small number of musical techniques. Melodically, there is the use of the turn figure, the anticipation, and themes “made of intervals” such as the sixth in Jill’s theme, the unison in Cheyenne’s theme, and the combination of fifth, fourth, and second in the “micro-cell” of the Frank/Harmonica theme. Harmonically, Morricone often draws on the simple primary progression of I-IV-V-I (as in Jill’s theme), the Dorian mode (as in Cheyenne’s theme), the plagal thirds progression of I-vi-IV-I (as in both Jill’s and Cheyenne’s theme) and the closely related lament bass, which supports chords similar to the plagal thirds. And of course, the use of unusual timbres in the orchestration is another key aspect of Morricone’s style, one that, in combination with the other stylistic elements, remains a distinctive trait.

In all of these ways, Morricone has succeeded in creating a style that not only remains identifiable as a compositional fingerprint, but that also fulfills the expressive needs of a film in a manner that is at once effective, memorable, and unique in the history of film scores.

“Cheyenne’s theme” from Once Upon a Time in the West is another example of Ennio Morricone’s economical use of melodic and harmonic materials, and unusual choice of instrumentation that help bestow his music with a very distinctive sound. The following film music analysis will demonstrate how the theme incorporates some of the same ideas from Jill’s theme and includes some others that are commonly found in Morricone’s film scores.

Within the film, Cheyenne’s theme is heard in two forms. The first sounds when he is introduced as he enters a tavern. This form of the theme is fairly fast-paced, eerie, and tension-filled, appropriate expressions for a character who has, thus far, only been shown to be a dangerous man who is skilled with a gun. All other instances of the theme make use of its second form, a more moderately-paced version that accompanies Cheyenne in various other situations. It is this form of the theme that is analyzed below.

Melody

Cheyenne’s theme is structured as an ABA form in which the final B and A sections are reiterated twice. Below is the entire theme along with the timestamp for each of its sections:

0:05 – A, 0:25 – B, 0:47 – Return of A, 1:06 – B, 1:28 – Return of A, 1:47 – B, 2:09 – Return of A

After an introduction announcing the theme’s sauntering accompaniment figure, the opening A section enters, comprising two identical four-bar phrases. These phrases state a rhythmic motive that, with only slight variations, is the basis of each phrase in the theme, demonstrating one of the theme’s many musical economies.

Recall Morricone’s claim that, in the early Sergio Leone films, he would sometimes write “a theme of intervals”. As we saw with Jill’s theme, this statement holds true in the theme’s prominent use of the interval of the sixth. Cheyenne’s theme may not seem to highlight any particular interval since it is based almost entirely on repeated notes. But repeated notes are themselves a type of interval – the unison. Hence, Morricone is employing much the same compositional technique, saturating the theme with a single type of interval. In this case, the combination of the unisons and moderate tempo endows the theme with a relaxed character that befits the generally less intense role Cheyenne plays in the film (frequently as a comic relief).

In terms of melodic devices, Morricone once again draws on the figure of the turn. In the last analysis, we saw that there are six types of turn depending on whether the figure is inverted or omits its first or last note:

Cheyenne’s theme integrates two turn figures in its opening phrase that overlap with one another:

And the B section concludes with one of the abbreviated forms, strengthening its already close melodic relationship to the A section through the many repeated notes:

These turn figures not only create interest in the melodic line through their contrast from the unison intervals, but they also sculpt the theme into something distinctly Morriconean.

Harmony

Keys and Scales

The opening A section of Cheyenne’s theme is composed of a repeated three-chord progression: A minor, D major, and again A minor. Had this theme been set in the key of A minor, the second chord would have been a D minor chord. But the melody’s turn first figure rises up to F# instead creates a D major chord and renders the theme’s underlying scale a Dorian mode on A, which is like minor but with a raised sixth degree:

This use of a major chord where one would normally expect a minor allows the phrase to alternate between “negative” minor and “positive” major chords, suggesting the moral ambiguity of Cheyenne’s character: on the one hand, he is an outlaw who at the start of the film kills several police officers in order to escape his convoy and gain freedom as a fugitive. On the other hand, he aids Jill in her quest to ward off the killer Frank and prevent her newly inherited property from falling into the clutches of the land tycoon Morton. In addition to bearing a resemblance to the plagal thirds progression of Jill’s theme (I-vi-IV-I), the Dorian plagal progressions between major IV and i are also a key ingredient of Morricone’s main themes to Leone’s three earlier westerns, where moral ambiguity is a prominent aspect of the main character, Clint Eastwood’s “man with no name”. Listen, for instance, to the first three chords of the main theme to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, a clear example of a i-IV-i progression, and note especially the major chord sandwiched between two minor chords:

The B section begins with a pickup that uses another D major chord, now as the dominant of G major, into which key the music pivots and remains for the entire section. Taken together, then, the A and B sections take the idea of minor-major contrast that we hear in the A section’s plagal progressions and apply it to entire key areas. In terms of expression, the major-key foundation of the B section adds a certain poignancy to the theme as it seems to suggest something of Cheyenne’s softer, altruistic side whereas the minor-chord emphasis of the A section is suggestive of his harder, more rugged exterior. Also, the A Dorian mode of the A section and the G major key of the B section are actually two forms of the same musical scale, just beginning on different notes:

Hence, in addition to their obvious similarities in melody, accompaniment, and scoring, the A and B sections’ use of the same basic scale implies that the contrasting emotional expressions are two sides of a single personality.

Harmonic Progression

The B section is based on a single harmonic progression of eight chords in G major:

Notice that the progression passes through the chords of I, vi, IV, and ii, all of which are in their strongest form by being in root position. In other words, these chords stand out more than the others by sounding more stable, like stations along a train’s journey. In between each of these chords is a less stable, or “passing”, chord that sounds like it needs to resolve. Thus, the progression sounds like a filled-in form of I-vi-IV-ii, which is known as a descending thirds progression. Recall that the A section of Jill’s theme was based on the plagal thirds progression, I-vi-IV-I, which was also filled in with passing chords and a stepwise bass line. The two progressions are therefore close relatives of one another and not only create a subtle link between the themes for Jill and Cheyenne, but also demonstrate another way in which Morricone draws on a relatively small group of musical devices to define his very distinctive style.

The final chord in this progression, V in G major, produces an unfinished type of cadence called a half cadence, which here closes off the entire B section. But notice that this chord is another D major chord, this time moving directly into the return of the A section, which begins with the familiar A minor chord that starts the theme. Just as the D major chord brought us into the B section, Morricone now employs it again to take us back to the A section. With this move back into the A section, we realize that the D major chord also functions as the major IV chord in the A Dorian mode on which the A section is based. Thus, not only is the chord an appropriate choice to set up a sense of expectation due to its unfinished quality in either the G major of the B section or the A Dorian of the A section, but it also leads us back into the i-IV-i plagal progressions of the A section without introducing any new harmonies. This is Morricone’s musical economy at its finest.

Harmonically and melodically, the return of A section is a literal repeat of the initial A section, but with one important change in its final iteration. Just before the last chord of the section, the music breaks off for a full bar of rest. The need for resolution to that last chord creates a “pregnant” pause that brings with it a feeling of great anticipation, as though we are holding our breath, waiting for something to happen. In the film, this pause is coordinated with several of Cheyenne’s actions, including delivering a punchline, creating a moment of suspense, or even keeling over in death. And sounding after two identical iterations of the B and return of A sections, Morricone’s pause brings an unexpected reprieve from the theme’s phrase structure – a departure from his musical economy becomes an effective way of closing the theme.

Orchestration

As we saw with the analysis of Jill’s theme, Morricone himself has stated that

“I have always believed that the inventive use of tone color is one of a film composer’s most important means of expression.”

The unusual but skilfully blended orchestration of Cheyenne’s theme is an inspired testament to Morricone’s words. Right from the opening accompaniment figure, a double bass plucks out the “moseying” bass notes, and a wood block provides the clip-clop sound imitating a horse’s hooves. The strummed chords are played by an acoustic guitar doubled by a harp that is quickly muted by the hand (known as étouffée technique), and the theme’s melody is announced in the unusual combination of banjo and honky-tonk piano. Upon reaching the return of A section, however, Morricone adds his favoured sound of a male whistler (Alessandro Alessandroni), hence distinguishing the initial A from its return by minimal means. While the guitar, wood block, and whistling leave no doubt in our mind that this a cowboy theme, the overall synthesis of sounds produces a unique effect that bears the mark of a distinctly Morriconean orchestration.

Conclusion

Like Jill’s theme, Cheyenne’s theme is a good example of both Morricone’s adherence to a small musical palette of melody, harmony, and phrase structure, as well as his flair for highly original orchestrations. Its melody uses a single rhythmic motive throughout the theme, draws on the turn figure, and is constructed largely of unisons (repeated notes) that demonstrate the composer’s technique of writing “a theme of intervals”. Harmonically, the theme incorporates plagal progressions, minor-major contrast in both its chords and keys, the descending thirds progression, and two forms of exactly the same scale. And the orchestration almost completely eschews instruments of standard orchestral fare in favour of a more distinctive, and distinctively cowboy-like, combination. Taken as a whole, these many elements fuse together and coalesce into a highly recognizable style that could only have emerged from the pen of Ennio Morricone.

Coming soon… Morricone’s Once Upon a Time in the West (Part 3 of 3): Frank/Harmonica’s theme.

Saving Mr. Banks earned veteran Hollywood composer Thomas Newman his 12th Oscar nomination and the 2nd in consecutive years following last year’s nomination for his score to Skyfall. Being a film about the making of Disney’s 1964 film Mary Poppins, one might expect the non-diegetic score of Saving Mr. Banks (that is, the music that the film’s characters do not hear) to draw on the latter’s classic songs such as “Chim Chim Cher-ee”, “A Spoonful of Sugar”, and “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious”. But the film’s score is instead planted firmly in Newman’s own style, which avoids the danger of the songs becoming parodies of themselves and allows the film to tell its story with a musically fresh palette.

Regarding style, Newman’s music is often dubbed as minimalist since the repetition of short segments of music (ostinato) plays such an integral role. But the “Newman sound” also incorporates unusual combinations of instruments (especially involving percussion and/or plucked string sounds), a high proportion of sampled sounds, and syncopated rhythms that betray a rock and pop influence. Thus, the style of Newman’s music is probably better described as “eclectic minimalism”, his score to Saving Mr. Banks being no exception.

The film tells the tale of the innumerable objections raised by the author of the Mary Poppins books, Pamela L. Travers (Emma Thompson), in having the Disney Studios bring her story to the big screen. As the film unfolds, we learn through a series of flashbacks that the deep meaning of the books for Pam lies in their intimate connection with her childhood and love for her father, Travers Goff. Pam’s attachment to the books, however, nearly paralyzes the filmmaking process, a conflict that is played out mainly in her relationship with Walt Disney himself (Tom Hanks). It is therefore no surprise that the three most prominent themes in the film’s score revolve around these two characters.

In the following film music analysis, I provide a detailed look at these three themes and discuss their use in the film. With the exception of the Disney’s theme, Newman’s themes tend not to represent characters or things in the manner of a leitmotif, but are more diffuse, each one expressing a consistent feeling that applies to each scene somewhat differently.

Pam’s Lighthearted Theme

This theme is first played during Pam’s first flashback, which shows her father jokingly asking her where his daughter (Pam) has gone. The scene demonstrates the close relationship between the two and is essentially one of Pam’s happy memories. Newman mirrors these attributes in his music for the scene, given below.

Most obvious in the theme is its bustling, energetic quality, signalled by the continuous stream of bopping eighth notes and its peppy irregular meter. But notice that the theme is composed of Newman’s favoured technique of ostinato (two separate but related ostinatos are shown here), and that in the inner voices there is a near constant use of the notes Eb and Bb, the two tonal “pillars” of the theme’s E-flat scale, being the tonic and dominant notes, respectively. Combined with the sunny major-key setting and the jaunty, mild dissonances of the pop-style chords, the overall effect is one of an energetic playfulness that aptly characterizes the scene.

The theme, however, is also heard in two other scenes. In one of these, Pam is picked up by the chauffeur Ralph, who drives Pam around during her American visit. Pam is unhappy with everything Ralph says to her and the music obviously suggests that we see the humorous side of all this. In the other scene, Pam is seen typing away at another Mary Poppins book after finally signing on to the rights of the film. Here, the music suggests the cheerfulness and rejuvenation Pam feels in having the weight of the film lifted from her shoulders by resolving her disputes with Walt Disney, an interpretation that Newman’s theme makes crystal clear. Given the theme’s usage in the above scenes, I refer to it as Pam’s Lighthearted Theme.

Pam’s Tender Theme

We first hear this theme in another flashback, this time of Travers telling Pam that their horse is actually an uncle who was turned into the animal because a witch hated the sound of his laugh. The music Newman writes for the scene is as follows:

As the film proceeds, we begin to understand that moments such as this were formative for Pam since her bonding with Travers through stories of fantasy had an enormous influence on her creation of the Mary Poppins books. Hence, Newman infuses the theme with warmth through its moderate tempo, lyrical melody, and lush accompaniment. But the harmony plays an important role here as well, as the first sixteen bars are composed of only two chords: I and IV, or the tonic and subdominant. Chord progressions that move between I and IV tend to have a very relaxed sound and can even take on a spiritual tone, especially when placed in a warm setting as here. (Indeed, when a IV-I progression ends a piece, it is often colloquially referred to as a “church cadence” or “amen cadence” since they are often set to the word “amen” at the conclusion of a hymn.) These musical features help to emphasize the strongly emotional quality of Pam’s relationship with her father, and hence I call this Pam’s Tender Theme.

This theme returns at three other key places in the film. First, after the young Pam witnesses Travers nearly get fired from his position at the bank for drinking on the job, Travers impresses on Pam the importance of holding on to ideas of fantasy in order to cope with the difficulties of reality. We hear it again when Ralph tells Pam about the difficulties his disabled daughter faces on a daily basis. And it is heard one last time when young Pam sees her father just after he has died. In all three cases, the theme is rescored largely for the piano, lending the scenes a more intimate and poignant quality.

Disney’s Theme

The introduction of the character of Walt Disney in Saving Mr. Banks is accompanied by the following music:

Certainly, this is authoritative music, befitting of the head of a major company. But this is no ceremonial march. Instead, it is buttressed with orchestral blasts (seen in the left hand), many of which are syncopated rather than occurring on-beat, and its string ostinato (seen in the right hand of the first bar) has an energy that goes beyond a march-like accompaniment. Finally, it uses nothing but the simple chords of I, IV, and V. All of these features are suggestive of the Copland-esque sound of Americana that made its way into film with the famous American western films The Big Country (1958) and The Magnificent Seven (1960). Listen, for example, to the openings of each below.

The Big Country (listen up to 0:37):

The Magnificent Seven (listen up to 0:28):

While nothing in either clip is directly quoted in Disney’s Theme, the same Americana flavour is unmistakable in the latter through its syncopated accompaniment chords, driving ostinato, and simple harmonies. Thus, the suggestion of Disney’s Theme is not of just any corporate boss, but a specifically American one.

Disney’s Theme is heard at one other point in the film: when Pam reluctantly arrives at Disneyland for a visit to the park with Walt himself, all in an attempt to prevent Pam from keeping the rights to the Mary Poppins story and further obstructing the film. The presence of the Disney Theme at this point is thus hardly inappropriate, as Walt is once again making a splashy entrance, this time at the gate of his own park. But the music also implies the extravagance and bustling nature of the amusement park as a whole.

Conclusion

As we have seen, Newman’s treatment of the first two themes above is broader than the traditional leitmotif in that his themes are not simply a signal of a particular character or object, but rather of an emotional expression that applies to a particular character in various situations. And even his theme for Walt Disney is itself widened to include the grandeur of the Disneyland park, thus again moving beyond a simple theme-to-character relationship. This more diffuse approach to theme composition fits the film quite well as the very small number of themes allows for a high degree of continuity in a film that relies heavily on a disjointed narrative through several flashbacks. In addition, Newman’s score for Saving Mr. Banks draws largely on the composer’s own personal style rather than on the classic songs from Mary Poppins. In this way, the contrast between the cheerful fantasy world of the Mary Poppins story and the “real” world of Pamela Travers with her more serious story that wavers between tragedy and comedy is brought poignantly to the fore.

Coming soon… Alexandre Desplat’s Philomena.

2013’s Man of Steel takes quite a different approach to the Superman story than 1978’s well known Superman: The Movie. The latter film is largely optimistic in tone, lighthearted, and includes touches of humor. Indeed, when John Williams scored the film, he remarked that one of the things he liked about it was that “it was fun and didn’t take itself too seriously.” Williams’ vibrant score certainly reflects this element of fun while also capturing the film’s optimism in grand heroic fashion.

Man of Steel, on the other hand, deals more with the philosophical questions of being an outsider. Desperately wanting to fit in with the rest of society, Superman is continually faced with a dilemma: if he reveals his powers to the people of the world, then he’ll no longer be considered one of them. But if he is to retain his “fit” with society, then he can no longer rescue anyone with the help of his powers. This different kind of Superman film calls for a different kind of Superman score, and that is exactly what Hans Zimmer provides.

Although Zimmer’s score does not make use of strict leitmotifs, which correlate a short snippet of melody with a certain character, place, object, and the like, it does exhibit a loose coordination between certain themes and situations involving certain characters. For this reason, it can be difficult to put a label on Zimmer’s themes and they must often be given a more descriptive title than simply the name of a character or place in the film. Another feature of this particular score is the way in which many of its themes are given dual meanings that are either opposites or complements of one another. Below is a film music analysis that examines these aspects of several themes in the film.

Jor-El / Kal-El

This ostinato is the first theme we hear in the film as it sounds over the production credits, before the film proper is underway. The theme reflects a duality in meaning since, with practically every instance of the theme, we see either Jor-El (Superman’s biological father from Krypton) or Kal-El (Superman, as he is called on Krypton), even though the theme is not associated with any particular type of action they take. Near the start of the film, for example, as Jor-El heroically escapes on a dragon-like creature with the “codex” (an object that contains the genetic code of the entire population of Krypton), we hear this theme stated boldly in the brass (from 1:18):

The theme also appears in some scenes where Jor-El’s focus is on Kal-El, as when the baby Kal-El is raised into the escape pod near the film’s start (from 1:42):

…and when Jonathan Kent (Superman’s foster father on Earth) shows Clark (Kal-El) the escape pod in which he arrived on Earth (from 1:49):

The association between this theme and the characters is therefore quite loose—it doesn’t always signify any one particular emotion or situation with these characters. Rather, it seems to be more of a main theme for the film to be used flexibly in relation to Jor-El and Kal-El. In fact, one could even read into it an attempt to reinforce the Christ-like portrayal of Superman (a god-like being whose goal is to save humanity) by sounding the theme with the “holy trinity”: Jor-El (the father), Kal-El (the son), and Jor-El’s ghost (the “holy” spirit). This connection is strengthened by the fact that this theme is closely related to the Superman “heroic” theme in its triplet-based rhythms, its rising motifs, and the relatively large intervals. Compare the two below:

The relationship between these two themes is even further strengthened by sometimes having one directly follow the other within the same cue, as in the first two minutes of “Look to the Stars”, in which Jor-El/Kal-El is heard over the production credits then Superman Heroic (described below) enters with the start of the film proper at 1:03:

Superman Heroic

In addition to Jor-El/Kal-El, Superman has two other themes that are essentially different forms of the same theme, hence forming another of the score’s dualities. One of these generally accompanies Superman in positive situations in which he is overcoming some sort of obstacle, either internally as he struggles to fit in with humanity, or externally in his battles with General Zod. For this reason, I call it Superman Heroic.

This theme opens the film proper as the baby Kal-El (Superman) is being born. Though Kal-El is not performing any heroics at this particular moment, the music acts something like a prophesy: one day, this child will accomplish great things.

Other instances of this theme can function in a similar way, as when Kal-El gets his first glimpse of his iconic outfit, given to him by Jor-El. Kal-El’s donning of the suit takes him a big step further towards “an ideal to strive towards” that Jor-El believes he can become for the people of Earth.

In some instances, the theme is heard in a more overtly heroic context when Superman is battling Zod, although in these cases, the usual C major key of the theme is altered to C minor, giving the music more of a sinister sound that suggests the evil of Superman’s opponent (from 4:11):

At other times, it functions more as a theme to signify a victory for Superman over his own internal struggles. Examples include Superman’s voluntary surrender to the military (symbolically restrained in handcuffs that he could, and later does, easily snap in two), and his being hired at the Daily Planet as Clark Kent at the end of the film. In both cases, Superman is attempting to fit in more with society by complying with human expectations, first by turning himself in as the alien General Zod is looking for, then as a “typical” guy joining the workforce.

Emotionally, the theme evokes feelings of heroism, security, and hope, each of which can be attributed to an aspect of the music itself. The sense of heroism is evident in its prominent use of a rising perfect fifth. Its feeling of security derives from the use of a tonic pedal point, or the repetition of the key note of the scale (the tonic) throughout the theme, which anchors the theme to familiar musical ground even when the chords become strange and chromatic (at the entry of the synthesized voices at 1:46). And a sense of hope arises largely from the scoring of the theme’s melody for French horns, trombones, and cellos, which combine to give a plaintive yet strong sound when played softly as they are here.

Superman Introspective

The other form of Superman’s dual-natured theme is a close cousin of Superman Heroic, as the phrases involve the same intervals (fifths, sixths, and fourths) in the same dotted rhythm. Compare them below:

Here’s what the Superman Introspective theme sounds like:

And yet, despite these connections, the two forms of the theme differ greatly in meaning. Whereas Superman Heroic tends to accompany Superman in situations where he accepts the expectations placed on him and thus is fitting in with society, Superman Introspective tends to accompany him in opposite situations, when his own thoughts and desires are at odds with societal expectations, as for example when Clark:

• As a child, is overwhelmed by the abundance of stimuli his super-senses give him
• As a child, discusses with Jonathan (his foster father) Clark’s saving of a school busload of children and how to better “fit in” with society
• As a young adult, follows Jonathan’s signal not to save him from a fatal tornado because Jonathan believed the world was not ready for Clark’s superpowers
• As a full adult, discusses with a priest whether he should reveal his alien identity and turn himself over to General Zod (Superman’s enemy)
• Has his final memory of childhood, remembering his father (implying a recall of the tornado dilemma)

At these moments, Superman becomes introspective as he searches for a way to satisfy both his own desires and those of society. This emotional quality is created not only by the slow, contemplative rhythm of the theme, but also by its scoring for piano, which lends an intimacy to the sound, as though we are privy to the character’s tender, private thoughts.

Krypton’s Old Ways

This is another of the film’s dualistic themes that depicts Krypton’s opposing forces, one negative, destructive, and of the planet’s old way of thinking in which every Kryptonian is born for a specific societal purpose (as personified by Zod and his crew), the other positive, constructive, and of the new way of thinking in which Kryptonians are free to choose their own path in life (personified by Jor-El, his wife Lara, and Kal-El). The different emotional character of each is largely a result of the scoring. What I call Krypton’s Old Ways is an ostinato generally heard in the mid to low strings with rapidly repeating notes, suggesting something aggressive, as in the score and audio clip below (from 2:10):

This theme appears when Krypton’s old ways are being threatened, as when:

• Jor-El explains to the Council (which has not heeded his warnings up to this point) that the planet’s destruction is imminent due to their excessive mining of the planet’s core
• A machine under Zod’s authority tries to prevent Jor-El from escaping with the codex
• Zod breaks into Jor-El’s lab to retrieve the codex
• Lois and Jor-El’s ghost fight Zod and his crew on Zod’s ship (after Jor-El has changed the atmosphere on the ship from that of Krypton to that of Earth)
• Superman destroys Zod’s ship in the final battle

Krypton’s New Ways

This form of the Krypton theme is always scored much more lightly than the Old Ways theme. It features synthesized sounds in a higher register and in longer notes, a combination which suggests something benign, yet otherworldly, and even exploratory—all aspects of the new way of thinking. Hence I call this ostinato theme Krypton’s New Ways. We hear this theme in several scenes showing the effects of this new mode of thought, as when:

• Jor-El dives into the water and in search of the codex
• The baby Kal-El is launched off of Krypton in an escape pod
• Kal-El’s pod heads out to space towards Earth
• Superman floats (in Christ-like pose) in the water after the destruction of an oil rig (having saved the humans on board rather than killing them or letting them die as Zod and the “old way” would dictate)
• Lois examines a photo of Clark Kent going to the Kryptonian scout ship in the arctic (where he will meet Jor-El and obtain the new mode of thought directly from his father)
• Superman talks with Jor-El in the scout ship

Notice the close similarity between this and the Old Ways theme (from 0:07 in the clip below). Like the Jor-El/Kal-El theme, the Krypton themes also are juxtaposed—hear the Old Ways theme enter below at 0:48:

Suffering – Lament

Yet a third theme to exhibit a dual nature is one that suggests suffering of one kind or another. Its primary feature is that its melody is constructed largely out of a series of rising sixths, which, in a minor key (as here), are often used to depict tragic or troubled situations. I call the first form of the theme Lament since it is always scored plaintively in the French horn, or cello with voice, lending the scene a feeling of grief. It appears, for instance, when:

• Jor-El convinces Lara to part with their son and send him to Earth
• Lara mourns Jor-El’s death
• Lara utters her last words just before the destruction of Krypton

Here is the score and audio of the theme (from 0:55):

Suffering – Burden

The second form of the theme accompanies Superman’s second flight as he tests the limits of his powers in the desert. Just before he takes off, Jor-El’s voice is heard telling Superman that the people of Earth will follow his lead as an ideal to strive towards, but that it will take time. The sense of a psychological weight on Superman is clear not only from these words, but from his facial expressions as well. Hence I call this form of the suffering theme Burden. Although Zimmer leaves the melodic line as it was in the Lament theme, he does change its scoring, which is now much like Superman Heroic in that the melody is played by French horns and cellos, giving it a more uplifting sound (no pun intended). A new rhythmic accompaniment is also added, giving it a powerful sound. Hear it in the clip below from 2:59:

General Zod

This short ostinato has the tightest association of any theme in the film as it is connected only with General Zod and is almost always heard when he is onscreen or is being directly discussed. Its appearances include when:

• Zod enters the council chamber at start of film (where he is introduced to us)
• Zod and his crew are imprisoned and taken away
• Lois agrees to be taken captive in Zod’s ship
• Superman beats Zod up when he attacks Superman’s mother
• Zod and Faora (Zod’s second-in-command) have a standoff with Superman
• Zod and Superman fight for the last time

Here’s how it sounds (from 1:49, played in the strings):

The theme’s most distinctive feature is its use of what’s called the Phrygian mode, a kind of scale that’s like a minor scale but with a lowered second scale step—this is the characteristic sound of the Phrygian mode, and it gives the theme a dark, sinister character.

Comparison with John Williams’ Superman Theme

While the sound of Zimmer’s Man of Steel score is almost nothing like that of Williams’ famous score for Superman: The Movie, there are a number of resemblances that bear mentioning. Most obviously, Zimmer’s Superman Heroic theme opens with the same rising fifth as Williams’ Superman March, and in the same key of C major. But more subtly, the goal notes of the Heroic theme create melodic lines that are found in the March. The first five goal notes of the Heroic theme, for example, are G-A-G-F-G. These are the very same notes found in the opening of the March theme, as shown below:

Now compare the sound of each. Listen to the Williams March from 0:40-0:44:

Then listen to Zimmer’s Heroic theme from 1:03-1:32, which is much slower than the Williams, but still constructed with the same notes:

But there are more similarities to be found. In the Heroic theme, beginning from the second G, the goal notes are then G-A-B-C. This very same line underlies Williams’ March theme:

Now compare the sound of these passages. Hear the Williams from 0:45-0:57:

And hear Zimmer’s Heroic theme from 1:28-1:50, which, again, is much slower than the Williams, but retains the same goal notes in the melody:

More subtly, the two even share a common metre, with beats arranged into four groups of three (here, notated as 12/8 in Zimmer’s theme, which was transcribed by ear).

Even though the two themes have a very different feel, these striking relationships create a connection between them that one could rightly call homage. In short, there seems to be no doubt that, consciously or subconsciously, the Williams March had an influence on the creation of the Zimmer’s Heroic theme.

Conclusion

Many of the themes in Hans Zimmer’s score for Man of Steel are given dual meanings, generally one positive, the other negative, a distinction made clear by the instrumentation and rhythmic setting of the theme. In addition, the associations that the themes have are rather loose in that they signify the same character (or set of characters) in similar situations rather than simply signifying the character in the manner of traditional leitmotifs. While themes in films are usually altered in some way to reflect the changing emotions of the story, the two forms of each of the themes in Man of Steel are employed in such contrasting ways that they actually signify something different, at least on the surface. On a deeper level, the dualistic themes represent two aspects of the same idea, like two sides of the same coin. This is quite a different approach to film scoring, especially for a blockbuster such as this, but then, this is quite a different Superman film.

Following on the success of his mid-1970s scores for Jaws and Star Wars, John Williams produced yet another iconic movie theme with Superman in 1978. At the initial recording session for the film, the theme made such an impact on director Richard Donner that, unable to contain himself, he exclaimed “Genius! Fantastic!”, promptly ruining the first take. The theme also leaves an indelible mark on the memories of many a filmgoer, particularly in the way it accompanies the film’s main titles, which literally fly on and off screen like the Man of Steel himself.

Thus, the Superman theme has become so inextricably linked with its filmic association that it can seem as though it is the only musical representation possible for the character. How does Williams manage to do this? As in so many of his other themes, by carefully coordinating the musical features so that they converge and provide us with a fleshed out picture of the thing it represents. In this particular case, and as many have pointed out before, the music even seems to speak the name “Superman” in its first big cadence (more on this below).

The Superman theme consists of three main components, which are in fact smaller complete themes in themselves: a fanfare, a march, and a love theme. In the following film music analysis, I discuss several of the features that contribute to the expression of the Superman theme in each of its components and over its entire structure.

The Fanfare

Below is the concert version of the Superman theme:

This version begins with the fanfare (whereas the film version omits this initial appearance), which is set in a moderate tempo and at a moderately loud dynamic. Together with the noble brass melody and the subtle but dramatic timpani roll, it is as though a great storyteller is preparing us to hear a mythic tale of epic proportions, the musical equivalent of Star Wars’ famous “a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away”.

Structurally, the fanfare begins with two motives that outline a perfect fifth and fourth, intervals commonly used to denote heroism. But these intervals go beyond the merely heroic since they are based on only two different notes of the scale: the tonic (the scale’s first note) and dominant (its fifth note). Together, these notes suggest the most restful chord in any key, the tonic, which gives the impression of stability. With no intervening notes, the scoring in the trumpets and horns, and the relatively slow rhythms, these tonic and dominant notes attain an awe-inspiring sound not unlike the opening of Richard Strauss’ Also Sprach Zarathustra, heard over the main titles of 2001: A Space Odyssey. On top of that, the triplet rhythm adds a militaristic quality that suggests something powerful. Thus, even in these first few bars, Superman’s heroism, stabilizing presence, and strength are all hinted at.

The perfect fifths and fourths in the fanfare don’t just form note-to-note motives, they also permeate the fabric of the fanfare at a more long-range level. The fanfare breaks down into four short pairs of motives – I’ll call each pair an idea:

Each idea contains two notes that stand out more than the others: the very first note and the “goal note” of each idea (shown in the top staff below).

In the first idea, the goal note is the highest note; in the second idea, it’s the last note (though this note is embellished by a note a step higher); the third idea repeats the first, so again it’s the highest note; and in the fourth idea, it’s the last note. Notice that these pairs of prominent notes all delineate either a fourth or fifth.

More importantly, these fourths and fifths form a gradual progression. The second goal note is higher than the first, as though heroically overcoming an obstacle. (The goal note here is embellished by a note that is actually a step higher [shown in parentheses] and physically stands in its place, pushing the goal note off to the next beat.) Notice that the goal note to this second idea is precisely where Williams ramps up the intensity by rising to a loud dynamic, and adding trombones and a cymbal crash to boot. This is also the moment where the music seems to utter the word “Su-per-man!”

Heard as such, the music fuses the characteristics of these first few bars with Superman’s very name. But coming to rest on the dominant chord here, the music, and therefore our hero’s story, sounds unfinished. Will Superman be victorious in the story we are about to hear? The third idea repeats the first idea, and so returns to home base before reaching an even greater height in the fourth idea (again embellished by a higher note), suggesting the ability to surpass mere heroism to achieve superheroism. The fanfare, however, is left tantalizingly unfinished. (More on this later.)

The March

With the arrival of the march at 0:41 in the recording I gave above, we hear in its melody many of the same features of the fanfare: a perfect fourth and fifth at its start, tonic and dominant notes, a triplet rhythm, and trumpet scoring. The same personal traits are therefore suggested in this section as well, but now the accompaniment pounds out chords of great might in the lower parts and, in the upper parts, creates a shimmering effect that suggests something heavenly and god-like. Not to mention that this theme is presented at a loud dynamic in contrast to the start of the fanfare. Clearly, our superhero has arrived and sprung into action.

The melody, however, moves in a new direction:

As before, the dominant, G, is the first prominent note. Twice the melody rises a step to an elated-sounding A, as though celebrating one’s heroic efforts. But it doesn’t stop there. The melody continues to rise by step to B, which desperately wants to move up one more step to C at the top of the scale, but twice this rise is thwarted as the melody drops down instead of moving up. It appears our superhero is up against some great force, and using all his might to try to overcome it. Finally, with the third attempt, the B manages to break through and reach up to the climactic C before falling confidently down an octave on a comforting tonic chord, as if to punctuate the victory. Note that this is essentially the same melodic shape that we saw in the analysis of the Force Theme from Star Wars, which also seemed to depict the struggle of overcoming obstacles, and hence I termed it the “struggle” contour. Significantly, the contour in the march outlines another heroic rising fourth.

The Love Theme

Although the inspiration for the love theme’s melody (at 2:21) is often cited as Richard Strauss’ Tod und Verklärung, the melody can be viewed as having grown out of the melody of the fanfare. Indeed, the two share some striking similarities in structure—notice especially how the second idea of the fanfare is reshaped into the love theme. (I transpose the fanfare below for ease of comparison.)

This similarity not only lends unity to the piece, but subtly suggests two sides of the same personality: the brawny hero and the gentle romantic.

Harmonically, the love theme’s opening is based on a progression that is common in pop love songs: I-II#-IV-I, heard for instance in the Beatles’ “Eight Days a Week”:

In the Superman theme, however, this progression is underpinned by a repeated tonic note (or pedal) in the strings, which continue to play the march’s militaristic rhythm and so suggest an even more overt connection between Superman’s heroic and romantic sides.

In the second half of the love theme at 2:42, the bottom notes of the orchestra fall away and the march’s rhythms yield to an evenly wavering rhythm. Now it is as though Superman’s feet have left the ground and he is gracefully suspended mid-air with his beloved Lois. This theme does, after all, perform double duty as both the love theme and Superman’s flying theme.

The Theme as a Whole

Far from being just a collection of catchy tunes, the structure of the Superman theme as a whole contributes greatly to its emotional power. I have already mentioned the preparatory quality of the opening fanfare, but notice that the first time we hear the fanfare, it doesn’t actually reach an ending. At 0:25, it simply repeats the same penultimate chord instead of moving to a more satisfying tonic chord. This withholding of an appropriately final chord is a powerful tool in the composer’s toolbox as it leaves us craving resolution, forcing us to listen all the more intently in the hopes of achieving it. We’ll return to this point in a moment.

Without a doubt, a significant part of the enormously dramatic impact the Superman theme has on audiences lies in the way a couple of its transitions prepare and build up to the subsequent themes. The first transition occurs just after the opening fanfare at 0:25. At this point, the music is suddenly in a faster tempo and starts to reiterate a new militaristic rhythm at a hushed dynamic (the one mentioned earlier in connection with the love theme). As this rhythm is repeated, the dynamic becomes gradually louder, and more and more of the orchestra joins in. The effect is of something astonishing approaching from a distance. (Is it a bird? Is it a plane?)

Not only that, but the kinds of chords Williams uses in this passage are constructed using fourths (an interval we heard prominently in the fanfare) rather than the more typical chords in thirds (called tertian harmony). These chords in fourths are called quartal harmony and their effect here is twofold. First, as the fourths build up one after the other, almost like a melody, the sound suggests that what approaches is something of great power. Second, when fourths are heard simultaneously in a chord (especially when surrounded by more typical chords in thirds), it sounds as though these quartal chords are actually tertian chords with dissonant notes that need to resolve. Thus, the music attains a powerful sense of forward drive. Furthermore, the final chord of the passage is a quartal chord (or in jazz terms, a “sus” chord) on the dominant, all of which creates a great sense of anticipation, as though something incredible is about to happen.

And incredible it is, as the march theme enters triumphantly, providing the resolution for both the opening fanfare that we had hoped for, and releasing the tension of all the quartal chords into the resounding tertian chord of C major at 0:41.

Much the same thing happens after the B section (or “bridge”) of the march at 1:14, where the music attempts to conclude the section three times, the last time leading into another form of quartal chord on G-flat (here marked as a sus chord with added 7th):

This chord in fact has the same structure as the one heard in the fanfare when the music begins to speak the name “Su-per-man”, only now it is transposed up a half-step. Compare the two below:

Both here and in the earlier transition into the march, what is achieved is a heightening of the drama of the Superman theme. So crucial are these linking sections that the theme would lose much of its power were they omitted from the music. To drive this point home, I’ve recomposed these sections of the theme to exclude these passages.

Superman – recomposition 1

Superman – recomposition 2

Clearly, the music just isn’t the same without these crucial “build-up” passages.

Conclusion

John Williams’ Superman theme is one of the most iconic in film history as it so effectively captures the film character’s features in musical terms: his unstoppable power, triumphant heroism, stabilizing presence, and capacity for romance. But there is one other aspect of the film that the music captures equally well. As Williams himself said, one of the things he liked about working on the film was that “it was fun and didn’t take itself too seriously.” Surely, the bright, optimistic tone of the theme is a result of this kind of mindset. After all, these were the days before more troubled, tormented superheroes—Batman foremost among them—began to be the norm. Superman fits perfectly into that group of film heroes of the late 70s and early 80s with relatively sunny dispositions like Luke Skywalker and Indiana Jones. Significantly, all three of these heroes have jaunty major-key themes that have become just as iconic as that for Superman, all penned by the inimitable Williams.

Coming soon… Hans Zimmer’s Man of Steel.