Billy Wilder's 1964 film Kiss Me Stupid re-used some Gershwin songs used previously (during the composer's lifetime) and introduced some new ones (posthumously). The new songs were released to the public for the first time from the composer's musical notebooks.

Works: Gershwin: 'S Wonderful,I'm a Poached Egg,All the Livelong Day,Sophia.

Index Classifications: 1900s, Jazz, Film

Contributed by: John Andrew Johnson

The epiphanic moment in which a listener realizes that musical borrowing has taken place concerns not only the relation between two texts but also performance. For instance, in the 1939 film The Thief of Baghdad there is a brief allusion to a passage from the overture to Wagner's Der fliegende Holländer. When one recognizes such borrowing, it is dependent on a "polysemic mélange" that works together to make such recognition possible. For instance, beyond the musical resemblances, the film and the opera share a number of images, such as a ship and blood-red sails. Also, in both film and opera it seems as if music animates objects. An individual's particular viewing experience can also contribute to the experience, such as when a movie theater and an opera hall share similar acoustics. Such ludic details of performance are often overlooked but are an inseparable part of such epiphanic moments.

Works: Miklós Rózsa: Score to The Thief of Baghdad (597-609).

Sources: Richard Wagner: Der fliegende Holländer (597-609).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: John F. Anderies

The music of Casablanca was a metaphor for the power of political unity against the adversaries of America: American music defied enemy music and thus enemy culture. This metaphor is accomplished both diegetically and through Max Steiner’s score, which creates leitmotifs out of national songs and the famous ballad, As Time Goes By. Because current wartime tensions created political insecurities for audiences, it was difficult for viewers to regard the film as fantasy, and the film’s music aids in a transition to fiction. For example, the relationship between the diegetic performances of As Time Goes By and Steiner’s appropriation of the ballad reinforces a past of assured political ideology as well as American unity and idealism. Additionally, the film demonstrates fantasies and realities of race and segregation through the treatment of and musical performances by the character Sam.

Works: Michael Curtiz (director) and Max Steiner (composer): score to Casablanca.

Sources: Claude-Joseph Rouget de Lisle: La Marseillaise (484, 497-98, 500-501); Carl Wilhelm: Die Wacht am Rhein (484, 497-98, 500-501); Herman Hupfeld: As Time Goes By (485, 487, 497, 502-14).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

The enduring success of Aaron Copland’s 1942 Fanfare for the Common Man owes in part to the tension it holds between jingoistic and progressive politics that today appeals to a wide array of audiences and politicians. In its conception, Fanfare conveyed a leftist progressive message, celebrating the “common man” based on a speech by Vice President Henry A. Wallace. Until the 1970s, the piece was mostly understood by audiences as dramatic rather than political or patriotic. After Copland conducted Fanfare alongside overtly patriotic pieces at the 1979 National Symphony Orchestra Fourth of July concert, a more “American” meaning was attached to it, largely sidelining its progressive aspects. The use of Fanfare by both the Bush and Obama administrations suggests an association with benign American exceptionalism, tempering patriotic celebrations with a non-specific progressive element. This reconfiguration of the meaning of Fanfare is also evident in the large number of popular works (film and television soundtracks in particular) that utilize the Fanfare trope: trumpets (or horns) playing leaping triads in martial rhythms juxtaposed with loud drums. This trope is distinct from a generalized fanfare by slower tempo, more adventurous harmony, and often a texturally distinct solo trumpet. Rather than evoking overt militarism as a traditional fanfare would, the Fanfare trope is used to evoke benign exceptionalism. Examples of the Fanfare trope feature prominently in the scores to Superman (1978) and The West Wing (1999-2006). Recent works challenging this idea of exceptionalism include HBO’s Veep, the title sequence of which uses the Fanfare trope satirically in its comedic depiction of self-serving politicians, and Netflix’s House of Cards, which offers a cynical take on American politics with a stripped-down Fanfare trope in its title sequence. Given the show’s War on Terror theme, the trumpet in the title sequence of Homeland can also be understood as a fractured Fanfare trope. The Trump Administration’s avoidance of Fanfare and Fanfare tropes along with a trend of Fanfare performances following Biden’s election demonstrates the piece’s continued relevance in American politics.

Works: Anonymous: score to Strong (2011 Rick Perry campaign ad) (247); Aaron Copland: Symphony No. 3 (251); John Williams: score to Superman (263-64); W. G. Snuffy Walden: score to The West Wing (263-64); David Schwartz: score to Veep (264-65); Jeff Beal: score to House of Cards (264-65); Sean Callery: score to Homeland (265-66); Jerry Goldsmith: score to Air Force One (267).

Sources: Aaron Copland: Fanfare for the Common Man (247, 251, 263-67).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

There is an inherent difference between music of silent films and sound films; the former, sometimes referred to as cinema music, is music performed in the cinema usually experienced as a filler for silence while the latter, sometimes referred to as film music, is music physically placed on the film and experienced with narrative function in mind. However, some silent film scores act as if they could have been composed for this latter, narrative period, such as Gottfried Huppertz’s score for Metropolis (1927), due to its orchestration, use of leitmotivic techniques, and manipulation of musical material.

Due to cuts upon the film’s American release, Huppertz’s original score was heavily edited and mostly forgotten, to the point where the original score was not used in the 1984 remastering of the film by Giorgio Moroder. However, in 2008, the closest version to the original film was rediscovered in an Argentinian archive, along with Huppertz’s sketches and timings. The reconstruction of this earlier, more complete version reveals that the score contained many of the narrative techniques now associated with later film music, mainly the leitmotiv technique. It also includes references to other works: the melodic and harmonic language is rooted in Wagner, Mahler, and Richard Strauss’s style, while the “Machine Theme” echoes similar music by George Antheil and Arthur Honegger. In addition to these stylistic allusions, Huppertz also uses outright quotation, including the Dies irae chant upon the deaths of the workers in the machine room and La Marseillaise when the False Maria leads the mob to destroy the machines. In the process, despite its earlier time period, Huppertz’s score takes on the qualities and ethos of later Hollywood film music.

Works: Gottfried Huppertz: Score to Metropolis (45-57).

Sources: Camille Saint-Saëns: Danse Macabre (51); Anonymous: Dies irae (53); Claude-Joseph Rouget de Lisle: La Marseillaise (53).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue has been used in many visual contexts such as films, television programs, and advertisements, and in the process has gained a sort of inherent meaning associating it with success, the American Dream, New York, and modernity. The visual usage of the music then capitalizes on these new meanings. It was Woody Allen’s film Manhattan in 1979 where the piece, along with other Gershwin songs, was strongly associated with New York City, later reinforced by Scorsese’s Bringing Out the Dead and Disney’s Fantasia 2000. Tied to the connection with New York, the piece is also an emblem for success. The association with success is then further reaffirmed by the usage of Rhapsody in Blue in United Airlines’s longstanding advertising campaign. At first, the piece was used to evoke class and elegance, but over the course of the ad campaign the piece began to signify the success of an American-based airline as the commercials couched the music in different styles like East Asian and western fiddle two-step. Later advertisements in the early 2000s used Rhapsody to harken back to United’s past during a period of economic downturn and bankruptcy and focus on an uplifting and rebirth of the airline. United also used the music in a physical space in the O’Hare airport terminal to emphasize the “fun” of air travel, though it was far removed from the original work.

Works: Irving Rapper (director): Rhapsody in Blue (149-50); Woody Allen (director): Manhattan (149-53); United Airlines: advertising campaign 1987-present (“Nation’s Business”, “Pacific Song”, “Playing Our Song”, “Mileage Plus”, “Rising”, “It’s Time to Fly”, “Interview”, “Dragon”, “Heart”) (149, 158-73); Eric Goldberg, et al (directors): Fantasia 2000 (149, 153); Martin Scorsese (director): Bringing Out the Dead (153); Mark Kirkland (director): The Simpsons: “Elementary School Musical” (155-56); Brad Falchuk (director): Glee: “New York” (155-56); Baz Luhrmann (director): The Great Gatsby (156-58); Gary Fry: Rhapsody Ambiance (170-72).

Sources: Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue (148-73).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Jazz, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

Film score composers are often required to compose forty minutes worth of music in several weeks time, necessitating the use of previously invented music or the liberal borrowing of others' previously written music. The fragmented form of film music often discourages developed themes on large compositional canvases, but calls for the use of "mere snatches of music." Using the widely understood extramusical associations of previously written music, the first film score composers often borrowed easily recognizable music, conveying meaning quickly to early moviegoers. The "Bridal Chorus" from Wagner's Lohengrin was used to seal holy matrimony, Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata for moonlit nights and calm waters, and Rossini's William Tell Overture to underscore Western cowboy heroics, creating a language of musical cliché for generations of film score composers to come. With all art, both serious and popular, becoming an amusement commodity for leisure-time activity, the film industry has absorbed the materials of traditional art in order to imbue its product with all the outer trappings of genuine culture.

Works: Stanley Kubrick: compilation score to 2001: A Space Odyssey; Wendy (Walter) Carlos: score to A Clockwork Orange (35); Leonard Rosenman: score to Fantastic Voyage (39); Ezra Laderman: score to The Eleanor Roosevelt Story (38); Elmer Bernstein: score to The Magnificent Seven (75); Lalo Schifrin: score to Cool Hand Luke (75); Toru Takemitsu: score to Woman in the Dunes (78); Hanns Eisler: score to Hangmen Also Die (84).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

British composer Michael Nyman’s style could be characterized as a combination of musical quotations fused with minimalist compositional characteristics. Often his music establishes a dialogue with the past, engaging the listener with an active reevaluation of the original quoted work. In the soundtrack to Peter Greenaway’s film Draughtsman’s Contract (1982), Nyman based the entire score on elements of the music of Purcell, especially on ground basses and archetypes of functional harmony, gradually reducing out elements of Purcell’s stylistic language until just common harmonic patterns remained. This creates a sense of tension between the present and the past. In Drowning by Numbers, Nyman borrows from Mozart’s Sinfonia Concertante, K. 364. Nyman employs two different techniques of borrowing: variation and montage. Variation technique describes a process by which Nyman systematically varies every musical element associated with a borrowing (such as rhythm and pitch); this technique creates a sense of alienation between the two different musical eras (Classical and modern). Montage technique describes a process by which Nyman cuts up source material and brings it together again in a new framework; the individual compositional cells remain very close to the original, but their combination is quite different and introduces a new kind of formal coherence. These techniques of musical borrowing can also be seen in Nyman’s String Quartet No. 1 (1985), which borrows from works by Schoenberg and John Bull, creating a commentary on the music in which it is based. Nyman creates a dialectic between the two, with Bull representing traditional musical practices and Schoenberg representing more radical or modern practices, fully asserting himself as a European composer of the classical tradition in the process. Two charts (28, 33) summarize the borrowings in Drowing by Numbers and the String Quartet No. 1.

Works: Peter Greenaway (director) and Michael Nyman (composer): score to The Draughtsman’s Contract (26); Michael Nyman: Drowning by Numbers (27-32), In Re Don Giovanni (30), String Quartet No. 1 (33-37).

Sources: Purcell: Chasing Sheep is Best Left for Shepherds (26); Mozart: Sinfonia Concertante, K. 364 (27-32), Don Giovanni (30); John Bull: Walsingham (33-37); Schoenberg: String Quartet No. 2 (33-35).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Chelsea Hamm

By borrowing a musical passage from his film score Hangman also Die within the opening of his song Auferstanden aus Ruinen, Hanns Eisler utilized the same music for two extremely different political and social circumstances—a paradox that illustrates music's ability to mediate meaning through cultural encoding. The 1943 motion picture Hangmen also Die by Fritz Lang is a product of the Hollywood entertainment industry and American capitalism, whereas Auferstanden aus Ruinen is a patriotic song adopted by the communist German Democratic Republic as its national anthem. In the film, the story centers on the struggle of the united Czech people to overcome the brutal Nazi occupation; the relevant musical passage is heard in a scene in which the leading Czech resistance leader lies on his deathbed after a Nazi raid. The slow, syncopated rhythm in the bass line and the three-note descending sequential figure in the melody symbolize the patriotism and heroism of the Czech people fighting against fascism. Eisler borrows these same gestures in the opening of the anthem, and in both cases exploits the emotional power of music to mediate a political and social message. The paradox of Eisler's self-borrowing emphasizes music's ability to cross social and political boundaries.

Works: Eisler: Auferstanden aus Ruinen.

Sources: Eisler: Score for Hangman also Die.

Index Classifications: 1900s, Popular, Film

Contributed by: Mary Ellen Ryan

Within the context of an examination into film music as a component equally crucial to the film as the images on the screen, musical borrowing is discussed with special attention paid to the musical cliché. The use and creation of musical clichés in film music derives first and foremost from the recontextualization of "classical" music in film. The musical cliché is analogous to the literary. In some cases, the classifications and associations assigned to the musical cues of the silent films derive from already established semiotic codes, but in most cases film composers were creating and re-creating cultural and psychological points of reference in the ears and minds of the film spectators. In the process of recognizing the real social importance of these musical clichés, their respective archetypes are uncovered.

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: David Oliver

Hanns Eisler’s works have been going through a resurgence in a post-socialist, post-modern world. Why does his music, particularly Hollywood Songbook, resonate with later audiences? Part of the reason may be that Eisler’s works have a propensity not only to be covered by others but also to begin as covers themselves; bringing the popular music theories of covering into art music may help answer some of these questions about Eisler. The process of covering, regardless of genre, also raises further problems of authorship and authenticity, muddying who is the true author of the work and what the work means for a given time period. Connecting the concept of covers to the concept of performances and performative genres can help alleviate some of these problems.

Eisler’s Hollywood Songbook takes its influence both from Bertold Brecht’s poetry of the same name, the Hollywood Liederbuch, as well as the intangible “Great American Songbook” that many composers claim to reference. All three of these objects are difficult to classify in terms of genre, and thus invite intertextualization, which helps us understand Eisler’s songbook with its references to both exile and modernity borrowed from Brecht’s work and the Great American Songbook. As Eisler’s work itself is a sort of cover of these themes, other artists create their own covers and performances of the work, from popular singers such as Sting to visual artists like Ana Torf. These performative works invite further intertextual readings of both the performance and Eisler’s songbook.

Works: Hanns Eisler: Hollywood Songbook (19-29), Neue deutsche Volkslieder (19); Sting: The Secret Marriage (26-27); Heiner Goebbels: Eislermaterial (26-27); Ana Torf: Performance Art Installation (26-27).

Sources: Hanns Eisler: Hollywood Songbook (25-29).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

Musical parody in The Simpsons comes in several different forms and is a key component in the show’s function as television’s “king’s fool” or “court jester,” chipping away at authority and risking rebellion. The Simpsons uses music in five main ways: original songs, variations on its title theme, background music cues, references to existing music, and musician guest stars. Danny Elfman’s theme music for The Simpsons draws heavily from 1960s cartoon music, Hoyt Curtin’s theme music for The Jetsons in particular, lending the show a cheeky, self-conscious aesthetic. Frequently, series composer Alf Clausen writes self-deflating genre-parodies of Elfman’s theme for the end-titles, often relating to the content of the episode (for example, aping the 1964 Addams Family theme and adding a theremin for the season 5 Halloween episode, “Treehouse of Horror IV”). Guest stars including Tito Puente and Sonic Youth have also contributed similar end-title parodies. In addition to making fun of itself, The Simpsons parodies music from other TV shows and movies. For example, Cut Every Corner from the season 8 episode “Simpsoncalifragilisticexpiala(Annoyed Grunt)cious” parodies A Spoonful of Sugar from Disney’s 1964 Mary Poppins, deflating the classic film. Guest stars on The Simpsons are also the target of self-parody, with musicians in particular poking fun at their own music. Musical references in The Simpsons are fluid. The characters’ ages are frozen, but their music comes from a wide range of eras. Music in The Simpsons participates in the show’s self-aware tone and jests at the expense of various kinds of authority.

Works: Danny Elfman: The Simpsons main title theme (98-100); Alf Clausen: soundtrack to The Simpsons (99-109); Alf Clausen, Al Jean, and Mike Reiss: Cut Every Corner (102-3); Jeff Martin: Capitol City (104-5).

Sources: Hoyt Curtin: The Jetsons main title theme (98-100), Meet the Flintstones (102); Danny Elfman: The Simpsons main title theme (99-102); Lee Adams and Charles Strouse: Those Were the Days (102); R. M. and R. B. Sherman: A Spoonful of Sugar (102-3); Johyn Kander and Fred Ebb: New York, New York (104-5); John Mellencamp: Jack and Diane (105); Burt Bacharach and Hal David: (They Long to Be) Close to You (106-7); John Williams: score to Star Wars (107); Beethoven: Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67 (107); Maurice Jarre: score to Witness (108); Wendy Carlos and Rachel Elkind: score to The Shining (109).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Paul Dessau’s score for the pseudo-documentary propaganda film . . . Du und mancher Kamerad employs extensive quotation throughout in order to effectively underscore the themes and emotional content of the film, and to provoke critical reflection in line with his political leanings. For Dessau, quotation was a tool for innovation, as well as a means to generate a sense of historical continuity. In this way, it could be both didactic and creative. The eclectic assemblage of musical quotations employed in the score mirrors the compiled nature of the film, drawn from sources scoured over the course of two years. Aside from two prominent leitmotifs (one of which is an altered quotation of a German folk song), Dessau treats his abundance of quotations—drawn from folk songs, soldiers’ songs, and his own compositions—as musical documents. They are treated in a similar manner as the passing footage fragments, appearing in relation to an image or series of images and never recurring. In some cases, Dessau actively produces critical detachment, or the creation of a musical setting that is incongruous with the musical document it treats or visual images it accompanies in order to engender critical reflection. It is in Dessau’s uncomfortable incongruities that his sense of irony and his penchant for Marxist dialectics is most directly expressed. Through this approach, he is able to both score the film, and to provide his own political commentary alongside it.

Works: Paul Dessau: Score to . . . Du und mancher Kamerad, “Da sind sechs Mörder” from Deutsches Miserere (210).

Sources: Anonymous: Schnitterlied (201-2); Balthasar Gerhard Schumacher (text): Heil dir im Siegerkranz (204); Anonymous: God Save the Queen (204); Max Kegel and Carl Gramm: Sozialistenmarsch (205); Pierre de Geyter and Eugène Pottier: The Internationale (205); Heinrich Anacker, Hans Tieszler, Hans-Wilhelm Kulenkampff (text), and Norbert Schultze (music): Von Finnland bis zum schwarzen Meer (205); Hugo Zuschnied (text): Nun geht’s ans Abschiednehmen (205); Vassili Lebedev-Kumatch (text), Erich Weinert (German text), and Isaak Dunajewski (music): Fatherland, No Enemy Shall Imperil You (206); Hoffmann von Fallersleben: O wie ist es kalt geworden (206); Wilhelm Hauff (text) and Johann C. Günther (music): Morgenrot Morgenrot (206-7): Paul Dessau: Lilo Herrmann (207-8), Sinfonischer Marsch (208-9), Sinfonie in einem Satz (209), Kol Nidre-Sinfonie (209-10); Herrmann Scherchen: Brüder, zur Sonne, zur Freiheit (209); Max Schneckenberger (text) and Karl Wilhelm (music): Die Wacht am Rhein (209); Arno Pardun: Volk ans Gewehr (209); Bertolt Brecht (text) and Paul Dessau (music): Deutsches Miserere (209-10); Chopin: Polonaise in A Major, Op. 40, No. 1 (210); Haydn: Symphony No. 94 in G Major, Hob.I:94 (“Surprise”) (212-13).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Molly Covington

Critics of Mad Men (AMC, 2007-15) have typically understood the show’s use of music in terms of “getting” an advertisement, but there are examples of musical cues that challenge this puzzle-solving experience and force viewers to critically engage with the symptomatology of consumer capitalism the show presents. In the season one episode “The Marriage of Figaro,” excerpts from Mozart’s opera—Cherubino’s aria Voi che sapete in particular—are heard diegetically (on the radio) and non-diegetically as Don Draper films his daughter’s birthday party. The scene creates a parallel between Cherubino and Don’s yearning for true love, even as it only exists in fantasy in the advertising logic Don (and the show itself) dwells on. In the season two episode “The Mountain King,” the musical selection of George Jones’s hymn-like country song Cup of Loneliness reflects the cycle of (religious) guilt and self-loathing experienced by Don’s protégé Peggy and the kitschy Christian imagery of the ad she produces in the episode. In the season five episode “Lady Lazarus,” Don’s (new) wife suggests he listen to The Beatles’ Tomorrow Never Knows before she quits the ad industry. The song plays over a montage showing the emotional emptiness of various characters’ lives, ending with Don violently ripping the needle off the record. Unlike the first two examples, in which the music resonates with particular symptoms of consumer capitalism, Tomorrow Never Knows suggests a countercultural solution to Don’s feeling of emptiness that Don fears and rejects. Rather than directly instilling a message (as advertising does), these three musical moments allow for open-ended critical interpretation.

Works: Matthew Weiner (showrunner): soundtrack to Mad Men (2, 8-33).

Sources: Colin Meloy (songwriter): The Infanta (2); Mozart: The Marriage of Figaro (8-16); George Jones: Cup of Loneliness (16-25); John Lennon and Paul McCartney: Tomorrow Never Knows (25-33).

Index Classifications: 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Edvard Grieg's Peer Gynt Suites carry cultural codes for the complex and ironic relationship between human and monster. These codes were recognized by authors such as Lageröf, Lie, and Ibsen, and they enter intertextually into films like Griffith's Birth of a Nation. Fritz Lang uses Peer Gynt to represent a murderer in M, and after this film, the music takes on generically spooky connotations. The film Needful Things goes beyond coding for malevolence by taking advantage of the written-in acceleration of Peer Gynt (beginning it early and making it quite fast) and synchronizing the music with the onscreen action. Film scenes using Peer Gynt exemplify Nicholas Cook's categories of conformance and contest, which characterize the relationship between image and music (the elements are invertible or each medium deconstructs the other, respectively).

Works: D. W. Griffith (director) and Joseph Carl Breil (composer): Sound track to Birth of a Nation (74-75); Fritz Lang (director): Sound track to M (77-80); Dario Argento (director): Sound track to Demoni (81-82); Fraser Clarke Heston (director): Sound track to Needful Things (80-85); Jerry Zucker (director): Sound track to Rat Race (84-85).

Sources: Edvard Grieg: Peer Gynt Suite (74-87); Schubert: Ave Maria (82); Patrick Doyle: Dies irae (82).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Certain characteristics of "classical" music (in styles from Baroque to late Romantic) were adopted and changed in the music of the early cinema. On the surface, film music from the mid 1920s through the early 1940s shares certain aesthetic principles with the music of Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven, such as a similar manipulation of themes and motives. Although many existing compositions were employed in early film scores, the aesthetics of the music newly composed for film are the primary focus (Chapters 2-3, pp. 12-66). The "Interviews" section (pp. 269-334) offers candid discussions of and useful insights into the compositional process of film music composers, such as the comment from Harold Shore that "You're constantly in the music library digging up old records, writing new pieces, parodying pieces of this or that."

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: David Oliver

The "suture effect," adapted from psychoanalytic theory by Jean-Pierre Oudart, identifies the relationship of the spectator to the chain of signifying images, while also accounting for the subject's connection with the film score. Once becoming aware of the absence of vital information presented visually, the spectator unconsciously closes the gap between the seen and unseen, simultaneously sealing the spectator within the film. Music serves as an off-screen signifier, replacing the absence of corresponding affect, and the spectator is freed to claim the imaged emotion as his own. The film score permits the spectator to impart human depth to the flatness of photographed images by using programmatic music or music which carries off-screen meaning. Hugo Friedhofer's 1946 score for The Best Years of Our Lives draws stylistically from neo-classicism in its employment of numerous leitmotifs; the opening notes of the theme suggest somber memories of war, corresponding directly to the opening intervals of "Taps." Hoagy Carmichael's "Among My Souvenirs" is borrowed as a sentimental relic from the popular songs of the 1930s, as well as "Up a Lazy River" and "Chopsticks."

Works: Hugo Friedhofer: score to The Best Years of Our Lives (27-28, 31-38).

Sources: Taps (32); Traditional: It's Raining, It's Pouring (33); Hoagy Carmichael: Among My Souvenirs (33), Up a Lazy River (35); Antonín Dvořák: Symphony No. 9 in E Minor, From the New World (33).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

The first season of Mitchell Hurwitz’s television sitcom Arrested Development, scored by David Schwartz, extensively uses musical humor that falls into six categories: rendering characters’ personalities, comic Othering, comic seriousness, snarky commentary, hidden cultural references, and diegetic ambiguity. Developing a taxonomy of musical humor reveals the complex role music plays in the show’s comedic tone and the subtlety of Schwartz’s musical comedy. Comedy in general and music comedy in particular are relatively unexplored by scholars. Arrested Development, which ran for three seasons in 2003-2006 before a 2013 revival, offers a case study of musical comedy rife with in-jokes, call-backs, and cultural references catalogued by a dedicated online fanbase. One way music is used for comedic effect is by establishing consistent themes for each character that prompt audiences for their typical style of joke. Another type of comedy the show uses is musical exoticism, often exaggerated or ironically commenting on the tropes of exoticism. For instance, a hodge-podge of “Latin” musics (such as mariachi and Spanish guitar) accompanies the Colombian character Marta, an ironic commentary on other characters’ ignorance about the differences between specific Central and South American cultures. A third comedic effect is juxtaposing serious music (classical, folk, or film noir) with the characters’ ineptitudes. A fourth is that pop songs are frequently used to punctuate situations with overtly literal interpretations of their lyrics. A fifth is the use of music to underscore in-jokes that run throughout the series. Finally, the show often blurs the line between diegetic and non-diegetic music, as in a gag in the pilot where a rimshot is played after a joke (as an apparent nondiegetic stinger) and a character on screen turns to look at the off-screen drummer (as though it were diegetic). The art of musical comedy relies on the clever subversion of expectations, and David Schwartz’s musical contribution to Arrested Development deserves acknowledgement for its artistry.

Works: David Schwartz: score to Arrested Development: Season One

Sources: Captain and Tennille: Love Will Keep Us Together (21, 27); Al Green: Free At Last (21, 27); Irving Berlin: I’m a Bad, Bad Man (21); Leroy: Gonna Get Together (21); Britney Spears: I’m Not That Innocent (21, 27); Europe: Final Countdown (21); Johann Sebastian Bach: Italian Concerto, BWV 971 (24); Arlo Guthrie: Alice’s Restaurant (25); Burt Bacharach and Hal David: Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head (27); Turner Overdrive: Taking Care of Business (28); Harold Arlen and Yip Harburg: Over the Rainbow (29)

Index Classifications: 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Tony Britten’s 2008 television adaptation of Verdi’s Falstaff reconfigures the opera into a British situation comedy, a radical treatment that suggests a new path for opera films as transformation through remediation. While performances of operas are not a new phenomenon, they tend to capitalize on television’s aesthetic. Britten’s adaptation, however, strips Falstaff of nearly all of its operatic signifiers with its cast of non-opera singers and Britten’s updated English libretto and chamber arrangements of the score. In a context of British television, Falstaff, a television actor in Britten’s adaptation, reads as a familiar kind of sitcom character embodied by Tony Hancock of Hancock’s Half-Hour (1956-60) or more recently David Brent of The Office (2001-3). An example of the changes Britten makes to Verdi’s score is the removal of the textual return at the end of Falstaff’s aria Quand’ero paggio, which minimizes its operatic conventionality. Verdi’s mannered musical style associated with Fontana is justified in Britten’s film through the cinematic trope of the Godfather; Fontana’s overly Italianate scoring is rendered televisually with Italian mobster stereotypes. Britten’s television opera concept works particularly with Falstaff, as it highlights the unique strengths of Verdi’s score. Britten’s chamber arrangement—pared down to nine players and no core string section—still captures Verdi’s textures and mannerisms. The discontinuities and speech-like patter in Verdi’s score are readily adapted into the fast-paced medium of television. Although not all operas would benefit from Britten’s approach to televisual realism, the novelty of his remediation of Falstaff could serve as a model for opera adaptation in the digital age.

Works: Tony Britten (director and arranger): score to Falstaff (486-513)

Sources: Giuseppe Verdi: Falstaff (486-513)

Index Classifications: 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Fantasia uses pre-existing classical music as the subject of animation that demonstrates three types of music: program music, music that does not have a plot but paints pictures, and absolute music. The film is an example of Disney's imagineering (engineering and imagination), in which images and stories add meaning to the abstract music. Images in the film create a familiar narrative to describe unfamiliar music to middle-class audiences. The structure of The Rite of Spring was modified to fit the narrative of the animators, and the narrative itself is not one intended by Stravinsky. Fantasia can be understood as an effort to construct ideologies of current social positions and behaviors through imagineering of the music, as seen in the animation for Beethoven's Symphony No. 6.

Works: Walt Disney (producer): Sound track to Fantasia.

Sources: J. S. Bach (arranged by Leopold Stokowski): Toccata and Fugue in D Minor (92-96); Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring (97-98); Beethoven: Symphony No. 6 in F Major (Pastorale) (99-105).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Scholarship on music in The Shining has largely ignored the semiotic richness of the incorporation of modernist musical works, but the historical subtexts of the pieces contribute to a unique Kubrickian approach to horror that relies on more than purely visceral audience response. By exploring congruencies between music and visual elements, certain symmetries come into focus that allow for a broader reading of music in the “Kubrick universe.” During the maze scene, Bartók’s Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta is a temporal phenomenon and is thus not congruous with the four-dimensional maze. Ligeti’s Lontano is used in two instances to accompany scenes of “shining,” but the third instance of its use deflects this established association. The symmetry between the music of Penderecki and the film extends even to the level of musical notation. Ultimately, one could read The Shining as an allegory of literate culture in the face of post-literate culture, represented in part by the use of modernist graphic scores.

Works: Stanley Kubrick (director) and Wendy Carlos (composer): soundtrack to The Shining (133-51).

Sources: Anonymous: Dies irae (131-32, 135); Bartók: Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta (134, 136-41); Ligeti: Lontano (136, 141-44); Penderecki: The Awakening of Jacob (144-46), Polymorphia (147).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

Video games can capitalize on the popularity of source music through the subject or narration of a game, including a popular musician as composer for the game, and licensing popular music for the soundtrack. One of the ways that video game publishers can offset monetary risks is to use well-known intellectual property such as films, music, and musicians and actors. In the case of the audio in video games, this intellectual property could be a well-known voice talent, sound designers, or popular music.

Games with music as the subject or part of the narration, such as PaRappa the Rapper and Guitar Hero have been popular overall with players. These types of games can be divided into three categories: creative games, rhythm-action games (both categories in which music is the primary part of gameplay), and musician-themed games, where musicians or bands appear as characters. Many popular musicians were also involved in the soundtracks for other more general games, as well as recording or rerecording songs for games. Even more popular is to simply license popular music for use in video games. Earlier video games were not as concerned with the music tracks, as they were difficult and time-consuming to program, so many of these games made use of classical music. Once the environment changed and creators needed to address issues of copyright and licensing, there was a stronger tie to the musicians whose music they were borrowing, including cross-media promotions and the sale of game soundtracks. Oftentimes the musicians whose songs are featured gain a boost of popularity from the game.

Works: Milton Bradley (manufacturer): Simon (36); SCEI (manufacturer): PaRappa the Rapper (36); Red Octane and Harmonix (manufacturers): Guitar Hero (36, 38); Atari (manufacturer): Journey’s Escape (37); Midway (manufacturer): Revolution X (37); Sega (manufacturer): Michael Jackson’s Moonwalker (37); Acclaim (manufacturer): Summer Heat Beach Volleyball (37); Vivendi (manufacturer): 50 Cent: Bulletproof (37); Codemasters (manufacturer): Music Generator (38); Harmonix (manufacturer): Frequency (38), Amplitude (38); Nintendo (manufacturer): Donkey Konga (38); Namco (manufacturer): Taiko Drum Master (38); Konami (manufacturer): Dance Dance Revolution (38); Time Warner Interactive (manufacturer): Rise of the Robots (38); id Software (manufacturer): Quake (38-39); SCEE (manufacturer): Wipeout Pure (39); Nintendo (manufacturer): Donkey Kong (40); Atari (manufacturer): Crystal Castles (40); Centuri (manufacturer): Vanguard (40); Sega (manufacturer): Dracula Unleashed (41); DTMC (manufacturer): Adventures of Dr. Franken (41); Blizzard (manufacturer): Rock’N’Roll Racing (41); Psygnosis (manufacturer): Wipeout XL (41); EA Sports (manufacturer): Madden NFL 2003 (41), FIFA 2006 (42); Neversoft (manufacturer): Tony Hawk’s American Wasteland (42); Reflective (manufacturer): Driver: Parallel Lines (42); Sony (manufacturer): SingStar (43).

Sources: Journey: Escape (37), Frontiers (37); Aerosmith: Eat the Rich (37), Sweet Emotion (37), Toys in the Attic (37), Rag Doll (37), Walk this Way (37); Michael Jackson: Thriller (37), Bad (37); Deep Purple: Smoke on the Water (38); Megadeth: Symphony of Destruction (38); Brian May: The Dark (38); Tchaikovsky: 1812 Overture (40), Nutcracker Suite (40); Liszt: Mephisto Waltz (40); Anonymous: Turkey in the Straw (40); Scott Joplin: Maple Leaf Rag (40); Queen: “Vultan’s Theme” from Flash Gordon (40); Deep Purple: Highway Star (41); Beethoven: Piano Sonata in C-sharp Minor, Op. 27, No. 2 (“Moonlight”) (41); Carl Orff: Carmina Burana (41); George Thorogood: Bad to the Bone (41); Steppenwolf: Born to be Wild (41); Black Sabbath: Paranoid (41); Good Charlotte: The Anthem (41); Selasee: Run (42).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

The recontextualization of pre-existing classical music within film brings complexity and ambiguity to film. Four reasons for this ambiguity are as follows: the music's original meaning may be indeterminate; the process of extracting and recontextualizing music increases ambiguity; audiences understand music in different ways; and awareness that the music was not originally written for the film creates distance between the music and straightforward interpretation. Since Rachmaninov's Second Piano Concerto is pre-existing but does not have an agreed upon meaning, it can be understood in film through several different codes and interpretations (including conventional cinematic musical codes), making it more complex than newly composed scores. In Détective, the disjunction between the visual film and the short well-known classical music excerpts does not allow the use of cinematic musical codes, but it does produce complexity.

Works: Martin Scorsese (director): Sound track to Raging Bull (21-23, 28); David Lean (director) and Noel Coward (writer/producer): Sound track to Brief Encounter (23-26, 28-29); Jean-Luc Godard (director): Sound track to Détective (26-29).

Sources: Pietro Mascagni: Cavalleria rusticana (21-23); Rachmaninov: Piano Concerto No. 2 in C-sharp Minor (24-26); Schubert: Symphony No. 8 in B minor (Unfinished) (27); Wagner: Rienzi (27).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

The 1978 NBC "docudrama," The Rutles: All You Need Is Cash, is a humorous satire of the music and history of the Beatles. According to Schopenhauer, an amused reaction arises as a response to the "recognition of incongruity between a representation and a concept." Thus, for a listener to experience an amused response to musical satire, he or she must possess "stylistic competencies" that allow for the recognition of the congruity-incongruity dialectic in the music. The fictitious Rutles's Hold My Hand is modeled on three Beatles songs, and it incorporates elements of lyrics, pitch, rhythm, harmony and instrumentation from the sources. Evidence of modeling in Ouch!, a parody of the Beatles' song, Help!, is found in instrumentation and in formal and harmonic similarities to the source. The harmonic parallelism is such that a dialogue between Ouch! and Help! emerges, which is facilitated by diminution of the model's harmonic rhythm and partial reordering of the harmonic progression. Leonard Meyer's theory of style, in combination with the semiotic theory of intertextuality, can become a powerful analytic device in explaining musical satire. The humor arises from the listener's recognition of the model and the clever alterations and juxtapositions of the original material. This recognition must take place on three different levels of specificity: dialectic or general style (e.g., British invasion), individual idiom (e.g., early Beatles style), and intraopus style or the style within a single work (e.g., the style of Help!).

Works: Neil Innes: Hold My Hand (124-32), Ouch! (133-37).

Sources: John Lennon and Paul McCartney: I Want to Hold Your Hand (124-32), She Loves You (124-32), All My Loving (124-32), Help! (133-37).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Popular, Film

Contributed by: Victoria Malawey, Sarah Florini

Short animations function differently from the feature length films currently focused on within the field of film music research, but examining how music works in these animated shorts can encourage us to rethink our conceptions of feature film music as well, including vocabulary and techniques. Image/sound hierarchy, the separation of soundtrack into dialogue/music/effects, and the diegetic/non-diegetic separation are all difficult if not impossible to apply to animation. There is also an economic angle to animations—Warner Brothers, anticipating the success of “talkies,” bought up several music publishing houses and strongly encouraged its workers, including those in animation, to use these in-house songs or works within the public domain. Hence, early Looney Tunes cartoons used all available songs to their full potential, leading to the “Merrie Melodies” series of cartoons using both hit music such as 42nd Street and flops like Manhattan Parade. The division of cartoons into a separate music-based series was not specific to Warner Bros.; Disney’s “Silly Symphonies” followed the same pattern, chipping away at the traditional hierarchy that placed image above music. Songs from musicals were often used in singing and dancing routines, where it becomes difficult to distinguish between dialogue and music. Likewise, rather than referring to a diegetic/non-diegetic distinction, it is often more useful to think of animation as isomorphic/iconic.

Works: Warner Bros. (studio): Young and Healthy (193), Shuffle Off to Buffalo (193), Three’s a Crowd (195), You Don’t Know What You’re Doin’! (195, 198), Hamateur Night (196), Rhapsody Rabbit (196), What’s Up, Doc? (196), Sinkin’ in the Bathtub (196), Hold Anything (198, 200), Smile, Darn Ya, Smile (198), Petting in the Park (199), Red-Headed Baby (201), Big Man from the North (201-2); Oskar Fischinger: Motion Painting No. 1 (202).

Sources: Mervyn Leroy: 42nd Street (193, 195); Bach: Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 (202).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

Cinema attempts to claim a status as an art form and offer the elitism of opera to new audiences in opera film. The opera film creates a hybrid cultural artifact that blurs boundaries between high and low culture, which can be seen in Cecil B. DeMille's Carmen, Otto Preminger's Carmen Jones, and Francesco Rosi's Carmen. Bizet's Carmen as an opera is a hybrid of high and low culture in and of itself, a characterization maintained in film opera versions of it. Otto Preminger's Carmen Jones uses Bizet's music but with lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein and an entirely black cast, playing into the tradition of the musical. The consideration of filmed opera as a cultural hybrid, implying distance, allows tension between high and low culture to be preserved and invites the audience to appreciate the elite high culture.

Works: Works: Cecil B. DeMille (director): Sound track to Carmen (48-49, 55); Otto Preminger (director): Sound track to Carmen Jones (49-51, 55); Francesco Rosi (director): Sound track to Carmen (51-55).

Sources: Bizet: Carmen (48-55).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Martin Scorsese’s directing and editing work in his 1995 film Casino, with its compiled score firmly integrated into the film’s structure, can be understood as music composition in the manner of a sample-based DJ. The film is scored for 129 minutes of its 178-minute runtime and contains eighty-three discreet musical cues drawn from sixty-one cleared tracks. The enormity of this musical project was aided by Scorsese utilizing digital editing tools for the first time, allowing the soundtrack and film footage to be manipulated simultaneously. Although Scorsese claimed to strictly select period-appropriate music in a 1996 interview, the actual compiled score is drawn broadly from music of the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, at odds with the film’s stated timeline of 1973-1983 and suggesting no musical chronology. Instead of establishing the film’s setting, the score dictates the pace and tone of the edit. Scorsese frequently cues contrasting tracks back-to-back, sonically supporting the film’s constructed dialectic between the glittery appearance of Las Vegas and the dark reality of its mob rule. Scorsese uses voice-over narration to move the plot along throughout the film, and several musical cues take on the narrative function. To achieve this effect, Scorsese meticulously edited the dialogue, film, and soundtrack to allow the score to “speak” for the characters. Musical style also serves to delineate the two narratives of Casino. Rock music scores the violent mob scenes, and classic pop scores the marriage in decline. Despite the volume and variety of music in the film, the characters are portrayed as decidedly un-musical and rarely if ever engage with music in a meaningful way. There is also no clear correlation between the music scoring a character and the style of music that character might be expected to listen to or enjoy diegetically. Instead, the musical cues and their construction into a compiled score reflect Scorsese’s voice as a curator and composer, reflecting his personal taste in music and making Casino a profoundly musical film.

Works: Martin Scorsese: compiled score to Casino (287-312)

Sources: J. S. Bach: St. Matthew Passion, BWV 244 (292); Paulo Citarella and Louis Prima (songwriters), Louis Prima (performer): Angelina / Zooma Zooma (292, 295-97); Al Bell (songwriter), The Staple Sisters (performers): I’ll Take You There (292, 294); Stanley Adams and Maria Grever (songwriters), Dinah Washington (performer): What A Difference a Day Makes (294, 304); Irving Gordon (songwriter), Dinah Washington (performer): Unforgettable (304); Charles Tobias (songwriter), Jerry Vale (performer): Love Me the Way I Love You (294); Elsa Byrd and Paul Winley (songwriters), The Paragons (performers): Let’s Start All Over Again (294); Mick Jagger and Keith Richards (songwriters), The Rolling Stones (performers): Sweet Virginia (294), (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction (302-3), Can’t You Hear Me Knocking (310); Edgar De Lange, Will Hudson, Irving Mills, and Morris Stoloff: Moonglow (296-27); Billy Page (songwriter), Ramsey Lewis (performer): The In-Crowd (297-98, 300); Billy Page (songwriter), Dobie Gray (performer): The In-Crowd (297-98); Gene McDaniels (songwriter), Les McCann and Eddie Harris (performers): Compared to What (298); Willie Dixon (songwriter), Muddy Waters (performer): Hoochie Coochie Man (298-302); Ginger Baker (songwriter), Cream (performers): Toad (302); Georges Delerue: Theme de Camille (302, 307); Ned Washington and Victor Young (songwriters), Ray Charles (performer): Stella by Starlight (305-7); Jimmie Crane and Al Jacobs: Hurt (307); Traditional, The Animals (performers): The House of the Rising Sun (309-10); Willie Dixon (songwriter), Jeff Beck (performer): I Ain’t Superstitious (310-12)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Many different kinds of popular music can create dramatic moments in film, both diegetically and non-diegetically. The temporal aspects of most popular music, its steady beat and generally common time meter, affect the resulting film differently than classical film scoring does. Through creating new popular-style music for films (scoring), editing exiting popular music to fit a film, or editing filmic images to fit existing popular music (tracking), many different techniques and styles are possible. The Beatles, with their pop music films in the 1960s, changed how popular music worked in movies, as well as inherently changing the way film musicals functioned. Although there were earlier films that used popular music, such as King Creole (1958) and Rock Around the Clock (1956), the Beatles’ films were the first where pop music was not mixed with traditional film music techniques; the resulting films were a hybrid of documentary style with the drama of feature films. Different styles of music can accomplish different things; for example, psychedelic music is often used to signify surrealism or drug use, while rap music is used as a dramatic shock tactic and older popular music signifies an earlier time period. Regardless of the type of music or approach, pop music also invites a tension between creativity and commerce that did not previously exist with classical film music techniques.

Works: Joe Massot (director): Wonderwall (5, 19, 39-42, 53, 124); Roger Corman (director): The Trip (5, 34-36, 38, 42-43); Donald Cammell and Nicolas Roeg (directors): Performance (5, 41-42, 53, 93, 122); Albert and David Maysles (directors): Gimme Shelter (5, 63-64, 66-67, 72); Michael Wadleigh (director): Woodstock (5, 64, 66, 72); George Lucas (director): American Graffiti (5, 106, 138-41); Barry Shear (director): Across 110th Street (16, 79, 83, 86); Richard Lester (director): A Hard Day’s Night (19-25), Help! (19, 25-29); George Dunning (director): Yellow Submarine (19, 38-39); John Boorman (director): Catch Us If You Can (22); Mike Nichols (director): The Graduate (33); Woody Allen (director): What’s Up Tiger Lily (33); Richard Rush (director): Psych Out (35, 43); Dennis Hopper (director): Easy Rider (36-37, 53); Bob Rafelson (director): Head (37); Barbet Schroeder (director): More (45, 49-50, 52-56), La Vallée (45, 53, 56); Michelangelo Antonioni (director): Zabriskie Point (45, 52-53, 55, 58); Alan Parker (director): Pink Floyd - The Wall (45, 57); Peter Sykes (director): The Committee (45, 53-54, 58); Peter Whitehead (director): Tonite Let’s All Make Love in London (53); Roy Battersby (director): The Body (55); David Elfick (director): Crystal Voyager (56); Martin Scorsese (director): The Last Waltz (63, 73, 76); D. A. Pennebaker (director): Don’t Look Back (63-66, 72); Gordon Parks (director): Shaft (79, 81, 84, 86-88, 91); Melvin Van Peebles (director): Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song (79, 81, 84, 86-87); Gordon Parks Jr. (director): Super Fly (79, 81, 84, 86, 88-92); Ossie Davis (director): Cotton Comes to Harlem (81-82); Larry Cohen (director): Black Caesar (81, 90-91); Leslie H. Martinson (director): Batman (105, 107-111); Tim Burton (director): Batman Returns (105, 112-14); Joel Schumacher (director): Batman Forever (105, 114-17), Batman and Robin (105, 115, 117-18); Richard Loncraine (director): Brimstone and Treacle (140); Lawrence Kasdan (director): The Big Chill (141); Bruce Robinson (director): Withnail and I (141); David Green (director): Buster (141-42); Tony Scott (director): Top Gun (143); Michael Mann (director): Manhunter (143); Howard Deutch (director): Pretty In Pink (145); Quentin Tarantino (director): Pulp Fiction (146); Oliver Stone (director): Natural Born Killers (146); Robert Zemeckis (director): Forrest Gump (146); Danny Boyle (director): Trainspotting (148); Nicolas Winding Refn (director): Bronson (150); Wes Anderson (director): The Royal Tenenbaums (150); Abel Ferrara (director): Bad Lieutenant (154-61).

Sources: The Beatles: I Should Have Known Better (21, 24), Tell Me Why (24), If I Fell (24), She Loves You (24), She’s A Woman (26-28), Ticket to Ride (26-27), Help! (27), I Need You (27), The Night Before (27); The Seeds: Two Fingers Pointing at You (35); Strawberry Alarm Clock: Rainy Day Mushroom Pillow (35), Pretty Song from Psych-Out (35); Electric Flag: Flash, Bang, Pow (36); The Monkees: The Porpoise Song (37); The Beatles: It’s All Too Much (39); Pink Floyd: Interstellar Overdrive (53), Careful with that Axe, Eugene (54, 58); Curtis Mayfield: Pusherman (88-89), Freddie’s Dead (88-89); James Brown: Big Daddy (90-91), Down and Out In New York City (90-91), Mama’s Dead (91); Prince: Batman (108-11); Siouxsie and the Banshees: Face to Face (112); The Flaming Lips: Bad Days (115-16); The Offspring: Smash It Up (116); The Coasters: Poison Ivy (118); Goo Goo Dolls: Lazy Eye (118); Moloko: Fun for Me (118); Sting: Spread a Little Happiness (140-41); Marvin Gaye: I Heard it Through the Grapevine (141); Rolling Stones: You Can’t Always Get What You Want (141); Procol Harum: A Whiter Shade of Pale (141); Phil Collins: Groovy Kind of Love (142); Phil Collins and Lamont Dozier: Two Hearts (142); Berlin: Take My Breath Away (143); Kenny Loggins: Danger Zone (143); Shriekback: The Big Hush (143); Iron Butterfly: In-a-Gadda-Da-Vida (144); Robert Gordon: The Way I Walk (147); L7: Shitlist (147); Creedence Clearwater Revival: Fortunate Son (147); Beatles: A Hard Day’s Night (148); Iggy Pop: Lust for Life (148); Schoolly D: Signifyin’ Rapper (154-61); Led Zeppelin: Kashmir (156-59).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Popular, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

The score to Edgar G. Ulmer's 1945 film Detour exemplifies the duplicitous portrayal of women through the employment of music that strongly evokes nostalgia and longing. Detour belongs to the 1940s detective film genre known as film noir, which often uses music to support references to the past. Flashback narrative structures are commonly used in film noir to explain the present or the film as a whole. Women are often portrayed in this genre as either the good and wholesome virgin-mother or as the undermining villainous beauty. The song "I Can't Believe That You're in Love with Me," by Jimmy McHugh, becomes a reoccurring leitmotif for nostalgic references to the character's past throughout the film, played on the jukebox and later scored off-screen by blending from the song to a Brahms lullaby. "I Can't Believe That You're in Love with Me" is especially effective at evoking nostalgia as a 1927 Tin Pan Alley song, performed by Count Basie, Earl Hines, Ella Fitzgerald, and Bing Crosby; the 1945 filmgoers recognized the tune not as a current hit, but one of the past. Brahms's Waltz in A flat, Op. 39, No.15, is used to signify the intensification of the obsession with nostalgia as the villainous heroine abandons the detective. Home Sweet Home is later used to reinforce the sense of nostalgia as the detective is reunited with the heroine.

Works: Leo Erdody: score to Detour (19).

Sources: Jimmy McHugh: I Can't Believe That You're in Love with Me (20); Brahms: Waltz in A flat, Op. 39, No. 15 (23); Henry R. Bishop: Home Sweet Home (23).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

Pietro Mascagni's Cavalleria rusticana is integrated into The Godfather Part III in complex ways. Coppola uses music from Cavalleria rusticana in a scene in which the opera is attended in addition to exploiting traits of opera on other levels. The opera appears in three levels within the narrative of the film: a literal level, a cultural level, and a dramatic level. The literal level is achieved through the usage of the diegetic, staged opera within the film. At this level, Coppola uses the opera aurally and rearranges it for cinematic effect. The Preghiera develops multiple meanings within the context of the film, from a contrast of faith/harmony with murder to religious ceremony in opera. The themes of ritualism and violence in the opera also parallel the film. The cultural level depicts opera as a cultural artifact that permeates life, an example of which is the arrangement of "Va, pensiero, sull'ali dorate" from Verdi's Nabucco, which functions as a cultural icon of Sicily as well as a portrayal of the character Michael's relationship with Sicily. The dramatic level adapts operatic structure, appearance, and narrative to the film as a whole.

Works: Francis Ford Coppola (director): Sound track to The Godfather Part III.

Sources: Pietro Mascagni: Cavalleria rusticana (31-45); Verdi: Nabucco (37-39).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Jazz in Hollywood films creates a context for the formation of a stylized representation of African-American culture, beginning with The Jazz Singer (1927). American myths regarding white ethnics and African-American sexuality are assimilated through the borrowing of African-American music, specifically jazz, as used in director Alan Crossland's The Jazz Singer (1927) and Paul Whiteman's King of Jazz (1930), and later in Alfred E. Green's The Jolson Story (1946) and Luis Valdez's La Bamba (1987). Spike Lee's Mo' Better Blues portrays the larger tradition in which the trumpet is a crucial signifier of masculinity, by borrowing from the music of Louis Armstrong and Miles Davis. In contemporary films, jazz has been configured to signify elegance and affluence as an art form through borrowings from Ellington, Armstrong, Nat King Cole, and Carmichael.

Works: Charles Wolcott: score to Blackboard Jungle (9); Taj Mahal: score to Zebrahead (101); Alfred Newman: score to No Way Out (102); Hugo Friedhofer, Edward B. Powell, and Marvin Hatley: score to Topper (256); Franz Waxman and William Lava: score to To Have and Have Not (261).

Sources: Max C. Freedman and Jimmy DeKnight: Rock Around the Clock (9); John Coltrane: Say It Over and Over Again (102); Duke Ellington: In a Sentimental Mood,Sophisticated Lady (102); Nat King Cole: When I Fall in Love (247); Hoagy Carmichael: Old Man Moon (256), I Am Blue (261).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

There are three primary categories in which Tarantino uses pre-existing music in his films: main themes and underscoring, incidental diegetic music, and diegetic music chosen by characters. While it is tempting to view Tarantino’s use of dated music in his credit themes as distorting filmic conventions of soundtrack and temporal location or as a postmodern smirk, in reality it can function as an authentication of characters’ identity, as audio-visual counterpoint, and as an authorial statement on the film’s tone and mood. Each of Quentin Tarantino’s major films, Reservoir Dogs,Pulp Fiction, and Jackie Brown, features a scene in which a character selects and plays a piece of music. Such scenes differ from other uses of diegetic music in that they foreground the process of music selection, thus granting characters power to control the score and allowing the selection to represent and illustrate characters or situations. Young audiences of Tarantino’s films will empathize with these foregrounded musical situations, witnessing how an act similar to their own private, mood-related engagement with music is projected onto other characters. This empathy also has an impact on record sales: if youth are able recognize the act of private, mood-boosting engagement with music, they are also likely to enjoy the music itself.

Works: Quentin Tarantino (director): soundtrack to Jackie Brown (188-93, 198-201), soundtrack to Reservoir Dogs (188, 191, 193-96, 202), soundtrack to Pulp Fiction (188, 191, 196-201).

Sources: The Delfonics: Didn’t I (Blow Your Mind This Time) (189-91); Dusty Springfield: Son of a Preacher Man (191, 200); Urge Overkill: Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon (191, 200-201); Stealers Wheel: Stuck in the Middle with You (191, 202); Bobby Womack: Across 110th Street (192-93); George Baker Selection: Little Green Bag (193-96); Dick Dale: Misirlou (196-97); Roy Ayers: soundtrack to Coffy (198-99).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

Borrowing classical music in Nintendo Entertainment System (NES) games can accomplish several purposes. Although much early video game music was newly composed, such as now classics Legend of Zelda and Super Mario Bros., it was not the only option available to video game composers. In the case of Captain Comic, the classical music functions mostly as a backdrop. Captain Comic’s entire soundtrack is made of classical music, but ultimately fails as a soundtrack because the classical pieces have little to no connection to the on-screen action. Pirates!, on the other hand, makes use of the cultural codes of Baroque music as a way of setting a historical time period as well as differentiating between different classes of characters. In Pirates!, the player can choose the location and time period; though the Baroque music in the soundtrack (Handel’s Water Music and Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor) are outside of all optional time periods, they still lend the game a historical frame and a certain amount of “seriousness.” These pieces associated with upper-class characters contrast with newly composed nationalistic styles in popular Baroque idioms for the taverns in different cities. Finally, all iterations of Tetris use Russian music, either classical borrowings, folktunes, or newly composed songs to tie the game back to its Russian origins.

Works: Brøderbund (manufacturer): Battle of Olympus (40, 45); Color Dreams (manufacturer): Captain Comic (41-43, 49); Ultra Games (manufacturer): Pirates! (41, 43-45, 49); Nintendo (manufacturer): Tetris (41, 46-49); Tengen (manufacturer): Tetris (46-49).

Sources: Johann Sebastian Bach: Toccata and Fugue in D Minor BWV 565 (40-42, 45); Handel: Suite in D Minor (41); Mozart: Piano Sonata in A Major, K. 331 (41); Rimsky-Korsakov: “Flight of the Bumblebee” from The Tale of Tsar Saltan (41-42); Johann Strauss: The Blue Danube, Op. 314 (41); Schubert: Marche Militaire, Op. 55, No. 1 (41); Wilhelm Friedemann Bach: Allegro non troppo, Fk. 203 (41); Handel: Water Music, Suite No. 1 in F (43-45); Johann Sebastian Bach: Two-Part Invention in G major (44); Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker (46, 49); Ivan Larionov: Kalinka (46); Anonymous: Korobeiniki (46).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

The soundtrack of indie video game hit Untitled Goose Game (2019, House House) is a dynamic music system that adapts pre-recorded performances of six Debussy Préludes to react in real-time to players’ actions in the game, borrowing aesthetic language from silent film to create a novel approach to video game music. In Untitled Goose Game, the player controls an unruly goose wreaking havoc in an English-style village. The game’s slapstick humor sensibilities, in particular the ways that the music interacts with on-screen action, were inspired by both silent film music and Carl Stalling’s cartoon scores for Disney and Warner Bros. Debussy’s Préludes were selected for the soundtrack because they sounded like early twentieth-century silent film music to the developers, and the dynamic music system was meant to sound like a pianist Mickey-Mousing the player’s actions. To create this effect, the game’s composer, Dan Golding, recorded both “high energy” and “low energy” performances of six Préludes and split them into single-beat stems (the longest only 478 milliseconds). Depending on the players’ actions, either the “high energy” or “low energy” stem could be triggered in succession, rendering virtually infinite possibilities. While the soundtrack for Untitled Goose Game was inspired by cinema and animation, the technical possibilities of video games allowed it to take a different approach to musical adaptation.

Works: Dan Golding: soundtrack to Untitled Goose Game (9-14).

Sources: Debussy: Préludes Book 1, No. 12, Minstrels (9-14); Préludes Book 1, No. 5, Les collines d’Anacapri (9-14); Préludes Book 2, No. 9, Hommage à S. Pickwick Esq. P. P. M. P. C. (9-14); Préludes Book 1, No. 9, La serenade interrompue (9-14); Préludes Book 2, No. 19, Feux d’artifice (9-14).

Index Classifications: 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Music in film plays a key role in depicting point of view. Pre-existing songs may be used to provide ironic commentary, as music may be planted to specifically complement the action onscreen. Stanley Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut shows Kubrick's increasingly sophisticated use of pre-existing music as he skillfully combines music and image. Four kinds of music are used in this film: a Shostakovich waltz, a Ligeti piano suite, a newly composed score, and pre-existing songs. The Ligeti is used to underscore objective events, while the newly composed score by Jocelyne Pook underscores jealous fantasies. Music goes beyond signifying moods and emotions in Eyes Wide Shut, also pointing out Kubrick's narrational agency.

Works: Stanley Kubrick (director): Sound track to Eyes Wide Shut.

Sources: Dmitri Shostakovich: Jazz Suite, Waltz No. 2 (7-9); György Ligeti: Musica Ricercata (9-13); Jimmy McHugh and Dorothy Fields: I'm in the Mood for Love (16); Isham Jones and Gus Kahn: It Had to Be You (16); Wayne Shanklin: Chanson d'Amour (16); Victor Young and Edward Heyman: When I Fall In Love (16); Harry Warren and Al Dubin: I Only Have Eyes for You (16); Mozart: Requiem (17); Liszt: Nuages gris.

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Musical borrowing is discussed within the context of a theoretical discourse on film music, particularly in part I (chapters 1-5). Early and contemporary film music has drawn on several 19th-century genres, including English musical theater (for melodrama) and Wagnerian opera (for leitmotif). Two different yet complementary theories can be used to consider the affective roles of music in film: the semiotic concept of ancrage, in which music anchors the instability of visual signification, and the psychoanalytic theory of suture, which explains the ability of film music to create subjectivity in spectators. The late-19th-century musical aesthetic in the film scores of Max Steiner proves particularly significant in the effect his scores have had on subsequent film composers.

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: David Oliver

Joseph-Marie Lo Duca’s 1952 sonorized version of Carl Theodor Dreyer’s 1928 silent film La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc has been widely criticized for its alterations to Dreyer’s negatives, but its soundtrack, constructed primarily from recordings of Baroque music, has received considerably less attention. Much of the soundtrack was taken from two commercial LPs that championed the music of Tomaso Albinoni (including the fraudulent Adagio in G Minor). Some inclusions—particularly Alessandro Scarlatti’s Passion According to St. John, the only piece to be recorded exclusively for the film—have a clear resonance with the themes of the film. Others, like the three Bach organ chorale preludes, have a less clear textual motivation. Two apparently improvised organ pieces in Baroque style are also included in the soundtrack. From these recordings, Lo Duca separated out individual movements and rearranged the material to create a nearly continuous soundtrack. Other than a recitative used in the opening scene, Scarlatti’s Passion is only heard in the final fifteen minutes of the film, although there is no consideration for the text of particular movements. Most of the music is not closely related to the action on screen, highlighting common issues with using metrically predictable Baroque music in a film context. Some scenes, however, exhibit a more overt relationship between sound and visuals. For instance, the Agnus Dei chant is used diegetically during a ceremony of Eucharist. While Lo Duca’s methodology gives up control of fine-grained integration of sound and image, it does exemplify the phenomenon of aleatoric synchronization, whereby unanticipated correlations emerge between sound and image due to the ambiguity and “stickiness” of musical signifiers. This is demonstrated by the two scenes containing Albinoni’s Adagio in G Minor (actually composed by Remo Giazotto). Despite the film not being cut to the music, there are many close correspondences between the rhythm of the edit and the rhythm of the music during the courtroom scene. In a later scene in which guards mock Jeanne, the portentous Adagio creates tonal friction with the comedic visual tone, rendering it ironic rather than sympathetic. This aleatoric synchronization challenges the notion that a film’s visuals always outweigh the music and suggests a more complex relationship between the two domains.

Works: Joseph-Marie Lo Duca (compiler): soundtrack to La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc (30-42, 43-46); Peter Weir (director): soundtrack to Gallipoli (39)

Sources: Remo Giazotto (composer), Tomaso Albinoni (attributed to): Adagio in G Minor (30-33, 36-42, 43-46); Alessandro Scarlatti: Passion According to St. John (31-32, 43-46); Bach: Ich ruf’ zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ, BWV 639 (31-32, 43-46), Nun komm’ der Heiden Heiland, BWV 659 (31-32, 43-46), O Mensch, bewein’ dein’ Sünde gross, BWV 622 (31-32, 43-46); Anonymous (plainchant): Agnus Dei XVI (31, 33, 43-46); Vivaldi: Concerto for Two Violins and Two Cellos in G Major, Op. 4, No. 1, RV 575 (33, 43-46), Concerto in G Major, RV 275 (35, 43-46); Tomaso Albinoni: Sinfonia in G Minor, Op. 2, No. 6 (43-46), Concerto à 5 in D Major, Op. 5, No. 3 (43-46), Concerto for Oboe in B-flat Major, Op. 7, No. 3 (43-46); Francesco Geminiani: Concerto Grosso in G Minor, Op. 3, No. 2 (43-46); Giuseppe Torelli: Concerto à 4 in G Major, Op. 6, No. 1 (43-46); Giovanni Battista Sammartini: Sinfonia in G Major, J-C 39 (43-46)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Pre-existing music creates historical montage in a film, layering historical times to occur simultaneously in a single cinematic act. Reflecting their proximity to and distance from World War II, the films created by West German directors of the 1970s and early 1980s are particularly engaged in this act of historical montage. They are also distinct from Hollywood in their particular use of nineteenth-century art music, and New German filmmakers used the cultural weight of and audience deference to art music to resist traditional bourgeois values and highlight filmic and musical auteurs. Filmmakers juxtaposed the historically recent reception of Germanic music under the Nazis and the immediate reception of it by modern audiences, culturally marking the music, highlighting questions of national identity, and asserting cultural resilience in the face of both Germany’s history and the encroachment of Hollywood. Due to historical Germanic emphasis on music as a nonrepresentational art form, Germanic film music must transcend the theory of mimesis, commonly demonstrated by movies outside Germany. While reception theory is a promising tool for uncovering musical meaning, semiotics and the musical language of the borrowed work are also crucial elements in film music studies.

Works: Billy Wilder (director): soundtrack to A Foreign Affair (28); Rainer Werner Fassbinder (director): Deutschland im Herbst (35); Hans-Jürgen Syberberg (director): soundtrack to Hitler: A Film from Germany (37).

Sources: Miklós Rózsa: Violin Concerto, Op. 24 (28); Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 in D Minor, Op. 125 (36-37, 41, 44-45); Haydn: Deutschlandlied (36-37, 44-45); Wagner: Götterdämmerung (37).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

Unlike many New German filmmakers, director Werner Herzog is not concerned about the historical baggage of twentieth-century Germany but is rather focused on forging new territory for the cinematic image. Similarly, he ignores the reception history of the Western art music he uses, in particular Germanic music. Herzog resists interpretation of his musical choices, despite the variety of music he employs, as well as his diverse treatment of that music. Music is used quite differently in the films Woyzeck (to underscore the transcendence of society), Fitzcarraldo (to enhance artifice and unreality and to underscore Herzog’s self-generated mythos in cinematic history), and Lessons of Darkness (to be a universal, rather than Germanic, herald of death and destruction). In each film, Herzog selects pre-existing music to enhance dramatic and narrative elements specific to the film, but does not engage the historic memory of the music itself.

Works: Werner Herzog (director): Nosferatu (148-49), Woyzeck (139-40), Fitzcarraldo (140-46), Lessons of Darkness (146-50).

Sources: Beethoven: Piano Sonata in E-flat Major, Op. 81a (139); Richard Strauss: Death and Transfiguration (141); Bellini: I Puritani (141, 145-46); Verdi: Un ballo in maschera (141), Requiem (147, 150), Ernani (141-46); Wagner: Die Walküre (141), Parsifal (147-48), Das Rheingold (147-49), Götterdämmerung (147); Grieg: Peer Gynt (147, 149); Mahler: Symphony No. 2 (147, 149); Pärt: Stabat Mater (147); Prokofiev: Sonata for Two Violins, Op. 56 (147); Schubert: Notturno in E-flat Major, Op. 148 (147).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

The use of library music (also called production music or stock music) in contemporary travel television shows as analyzed at the level of episode, series, and genre is complex in its communication of meaning, engaging with notions of celebrity and location. A case study of library music in the first season of British travel series Travel Man (Channel 4, 2015-) demonstrates the production process of using library music and offers conceptual tools for its analysis. The conceit of Travel Man is that the host, comedian Richard Ayoade, does not actually like traveling. Most of the music in the show is licensed from Audio Network, a leading British music library company specializing in recorded (as opposed to synthesized) music. After a library track is selected for a particular scene based in part on metadata tags supplied by Audio Network, editors select one of several mixes provided by Audio Network and manipulate the track to fit the specific timing of the scene. The Audio Network track Travelling Circus, composed by Bob Bradley, Adam Dennis, and Chris Egan, is used in several episodes of Travel Man covering trips to Paris, Naples, Brussels, Oslo, Madeira, Ljubljana, and Milan. Travelling Circus is often used in combination with voiceover to signify a broad sense of “travel” rather than any specific location, despite one section containing a stereotypically French accordion melody. In another comedic travel program, Jack Whitehall: Travels with My Father (Netflix, 2017-), this accordion section is used to comedically signify the “French-ness” of a French colonial resort in Vietnam. Throughout the first season of Travel Man, much of the library music, especially tracks used in opening/closing and transitional scenes, falls within the “vintage orchestral” genre, which draws on the style of light orchestral music and studio era Hollywood film scores. In tourist activity scenes, the genres used are much more varied, highlighting Ayoade and his celebrity guest over the location. Another Audio Network track, Paris Afternoon (composed by Joachim Horsley), is used many in British television programs spanning several genres, but its repeated use in travel shows is an example of how the “vintage orchestral” genre has come to signify travel as well as travel show. The self-aware foregrounding of library music as a parody of travel programs in Travel Man demonstrates that the use of library music can be an aesthetic strategy, not just an economic necessity.

Works: Nicola Silk (series director): soundtrack to Travel Man (7-16); Rupert Clague (story producer): soundtrack to Jack Whitehall: Travels with My Father (12)

Sources: Bob Bradley, Adam Dennis, and Chris Egan: Travelling Circus (7-12); Joachim Horsley: Paris Afternoon (16-17)

Index Classifications: 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Interculturalism, musical borrowing from multiple cultures, is a burgeoning trend in twentieth-century art music, theatrical music (opera, musicals, Gesamtkunstwerks), film music, and popular music. "World beat," an aesthetic that fuses popular styles from different parts of the world, is one manifestation of interculturalism. Interculturalism creates meaning in musical works, which manifest as political statements, instructional tools, "syntheses of styles, cultures and perspectives," or works that embrace or reject particular cultural values. These extramusical meanings result from various intercultural borrowing techniques, including patchwork, collage, and "suggestive" allusion (stylistic and pertaining to specific works).

Works: Dissidenten: Sahara Electric (190); Toshi Tsuchotoris: score to Mahabharata (192); Bob Telson: score to Sister Suzie Cinema (192-93), score to The Gospel at Colona (193), score to The Warrior Ant (194); Philip Glass: Satyagraha (196), Akhnaten (197-98); John Cage: Truckera (200), Europeras 1 &2 (200-201).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Jazz, Film

Contributed by: Victoria Malawey

While many writers have been critical of Amadeus for what they regard as trivial treatment of Mozart's music, the music used in the film acts as a structural support for visual rhythm and as a means to unify narratively related scenes through continuity of music, tonality, and motto. For example, Pergolesi's Stabat Mater is used to link three disjunct yet related events having to do with the death of Salieri's father. Milos Forman's use of music also both inscribes and subverts the standard practice of phantasmagoric aesthetics in Hollywood as well as displaying Brechtian alienation, with multiple examples of Brechtian interventions. For example, as soon as Salieri praises The Marriage of Figaro, the Emperor yawns, which obliterates the seriousness of Salieri's jealousy.

Works: Milos Forman (director): Sound track to Amadeus.

Sources: Mozart: Don Giovanni (60, 64-66, 68), Requiem (60, 64), Symphony No. 25 in G Minor, K. 183 (61), Mass in C minor, K. 427 (62), The Magic Flute (Die Zauberflöte) (62), The Abduction from the Seraglio (Die Entführung aus dem Serail) (62-63) The Marriage of Figaro (Le nozze di Figaro) (63-64, 67-68), Piano Concerto in D Minor, K. 466 (64-65, 69), Wind Serenade in B-flat Major, K. 361 (66-68); Pergolesi: Stabat Mater (62, 70).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Film theory must include music as a "condition of identification," how film music is received and interpreted by the audience, taking into account the impact of the intertextual reference between different films which borrow the same music, as well as the emotional impact of less recognizable music on the listener. Film audiences develop "socio-historically specific musical languages," where all music becomes referential, especially through the use of quotation, allusion, and leitmotif. Musical quotation has become a staple form of contemporary film scores through "compilation," the use of a series of pre-recorded music tracks rather than a newly-composed film score, because previously recorded and distributed music may carry with it strong ties to time period, genre, or location. The concepts of "assimilating," describing borrowings that are closely aligned with dominant ideologies, and "affiliating," for uses that broaden the range of acceptable connections between the text and music, contribute to understanding how the identification of preexisting music by the audience member serves to form notions of cultural identities or stereotypes as part of character and or plot development within film.

Works: Charles Wolcott: score to Blackboard Jungle (50); Carmine Coppola: score to Apocalypse Now (50); Charles Strouse: score to Bonnie and Clyde (51); Dick Hyman: score to Moonstruck (51).

Sources: Max C. Freedman and Jimmy DeKnight: Rock Around the Clock (50); Wagner: "Ride of the Valkyres" from Die Walküre (50); Traditional: Foggy Mountain Breakdown (51); Puccini: "Che gelida manina" from La Boheme (51).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

Popular music in film can serve to inspire and enliven directors and accompany, counterpoint, boost, or ironically comment upon their visual work. Popular music can create an instant period location, establishing time and place with just a few choice chords, haunting vocal phrases, or distinctive drumbeats. More than any other art form, popular music is a disposable, transient product that reflects, mimics, and occasionally shapes the American zeitgeist through film music. American popular music can serve as a film's memory, tapping into a nostalgic past or fixing the film firmly in the present. In the film score of Richard Brooks's Blackboard Jungle, which borrowed Bill Haley and the Comets' Rock Around the Clock, and Frank Tashlin's score for The Girl Can't Help It, which included music from Gene Vincent and the Blue Caps, Eddie Cochran, Julie London, Fats Domino, and Little Richard, Brooks and Tashlin were successful in capturing the essence of the 1950s teenage experience by incorporating the emerging genre of Rock and Roll. Contemporary popular music has also been used to help tell the story. Dennis Hopper's Easy Rider used Steppenwolf's Born to be Wild to epitomize the new breed of youth rebellion in the 1970s. John Badham's Saturday Night Fever featured the Bee Gees, Spike Lee's Do the Right Thing included rap and blues artists, and Cameron Crowe's Singles showcased Seattle 1990s grunge bands, all utilizing contemporary artists to place the film in the "now." John Carpenter's sound track to Christine, based on Stephen King's novel, references the nostalgic 1950s through the radio of the 1958 Plymouth Fury. American films based on the Vietnam War rely heavily on the political sentiments expressed via 1970s Rock and Roll; Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now opens ominously with The Door's The End, while Mark Rydell's For the Boys has Bette Midler on screen singing The Beatles' In My Life as her son is killed in battle. Film scores often develop a symbiotic relationship between pop music and film, where the music borrowed for a film is re-released as a marketing scheme for the movie.

Works: Richard Brooks: score to Blackboard Jungle (9); Bobby Troup: songs for The Girl Can't Help It (9); Dennis Hopper: score to Easy Rider (12); Barry Gibb, Maurice Gibb, Robin Gibb, and David Shire: songs for Saturday Night Fever (12); Spike Lee: score to Do the Right Thing (12); Cameron Crowe, et al.: score to Singles (12); Mike Nichols: score to The Graduate (12); Michelangelo Antonioni: score to Blowup (12), Zabriskie Point (12); John Carpenter: score to Christine (13); Carmine Coppola: score to Apocalypse Now (16); Philip Kaufman: score to The Wanderers (16); Dave Grusin and Diane Warren: score to For the Boys (17).

Sources: Max C. Freedman and Jimmy DeKnight: Rock Around the Clock as performed by Bill Haley and the Comets (9); Mars Bonfire (Dennis Edmonton): Born to be Wild as performed by Steppenwolf (12); Paul Simon: Mrs. Robinson (12); Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel: Scarborough Fair (12); Jeff Beck, Chris Dreja, Jimmy Page, and Keith Relf [The Yardbirds]: Stroll On (12); David Gilmour, Nick Mason, Roger Waters, Richard Wright [Pink Floyd]: Come in Number 51, Your Time is Up (12); Traditional: Sugar Babes as performed by The Youngbloods (12); Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter [The Grateful Dead]: Dark Star (12); The Doors: The End (16); Bob Crewe and Bob Gaudio: Walk Like a Man as performed by the Four Seasons (16); Lee Feldman, Jerry Goldstein, and Richard Gottehrer: My Boyfriend's Back as performed by The Angels (16); Dion DiMucci and Ernie Maresca: Runaround Sue,The Wanderer (16); Bob Berryhill, Jim Fuller, and Ron Wilson [The Surfaris]: Wipe Out (16); Acker Bilk and Robert Mellin: Stranger on the Shore as performed by Mel Martin (16); John Lennon and Paul McCartney: In My Life (17).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

The didjeridu is misleadingly used on the soundtrack of Burke and Wills (1986) to suggest an Aboriginal presence, by borrowing the distinct timbre of the instrument but discarding the free rhythmical form of aboriginal music. The timbre of the didjeridu, electronically synthesized and symmetrically organized in meter, is used in film scores aimed at western audiences to signify a single element of Australian Aboriginal culture as complex histories of "otherness," networks of beliefs, and the relationships between peoples and lands. Borrowing the distinct timbre and register of the didjeridu in Australian cultural representations provides for white Australians and Western cinematic audiences a spurious notion of Australian Aboriginal musics, which are primarily vocal musics accompanied by drum and whistle.

Works: Peter Sculthorpe: score to Burke and Wills (66); Guy Gross: score to Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (69); J. Peter Robinson: music for Encino Man (69); Martin Armiger, William Motzing, and Tommy Tycho: music for Young Einstein (72); Ira Newborn: score to Ace Ventura, Pet Detective (72); Bill Conti: score to The Right Stuff (73).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

Music and electricity have become specific accretions to the Frankenstein story over time, with American popular music serving as a subset of music in Mel Brooks's Young Frankenstein. The film plays like an operetta by focusing on personal stories and songs with special personal significance to the characters, staying away from the larger issues of human appropriation of the divine powers of electricity and music. Pre-existing songs used in the film offer both thematic verbal content as well as immediate jokes, whether or not the audience is aware of thematic conventions in which the film is engaging, although the broader humorous effect of the songs often obscures the appropriateness of the musical choice.

Works: James Whale (director): Sound track to Bride of Frankenstein (110); Mel Brooks (director): Sound track to Young Frankenstein.

Sources: Victor Herbert: Dream Melody (107-08, 112-13, 116); Irving Berlin: Puttin' on the Ritz (108, 113-15); Battle Hymn of the Republic (108, 113, 115); Schubert: Ave Maria (110-11); Wagner: Lohengrin (115).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Pedro Almodóvar's use of sentimental boleros and Latin popular musical heritage in his films may have contributed to the renaissance of the bolero song genre in late twentieth-century Spain. He used boleros through a process of bricolage, choosing pre-existing songs to indicate of mood, aid narration, and create commentary, often depicting the bolero as camp or queer. Further, due to semiotic shifters in Spanish, bolero lyrics have multiple meanings which alter depending on the gender identifications of singers and listeners. This reinforces a blurring of boundaries between masculine and feminine as well as a homoerotic articulation of desire through the use of boleros in Almodóvar's films.

Works: Pedro Almodóvar (director): Sound track to Entre tinieblas (Dark Habits) (93, 96-98), Sound track to La ley del deseo (Law of Desire) (93, 98-101), Sound track to Tacones lejanos (High Heels) (93, 100-103), Sound track to Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios (Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown) (94), Sound track to La flor de mi secreto (The Flower of My Secret) (94-95); Sound track to Carne trémula (Live Flesh) (95-96).

Sources: Catalino Curet Alonso and La Lupe: Puro teatro (94); Lola Beltrán: Soy infeliz (94); Vargas: En el ultimo trago (95), Somos (95-96); Bola de Nieve: Déjame recordar (99); Jacques Brel: Ne me quitte pas (100); Jean Cocteau: La Voix humaine (100); Agustín Lara: Piensa en mí (100-102); Luz Casal: Un año de amor (102-103).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Soviet director Grigory Aleksandrov and composer Isaak Dunayevsky’s third musical comedy film, Volga-Volga (1938), successfully balances entertainment and the ideological demands of Socialist Realism in large part through its music. The main conflict of the film is a feud between a folk music ensemble and a classical orchestra that culminates in a joint performance of the film’s theme song, Song about the Volga. During the opening meeting between the two leads, Strelka (folk musician) and Alyosha (classical musician), Alyosha tries to convince Strelka of the grandeur of classical music by performing an excerpt of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, which Strelka finds boring. Likewise, Alyosha does not immediately accept Strelka’s folk song, Song about the Volga. During a later “divertissement,” various classical and folk ensembles chase a city official around town, eager to demonstrate their musical ability so that they may be selected to represent the town at the upcoming Olympiad. Throughout the film, the performances by Alyosha and Strelka dramatize the apparent divide between high art and low art, a central concern of 1930s Soviet music. Ultimately, the film’s thesis is presented in the final performance of Song about the Volga presented with full orchestral accompaniment, modeling an ideal blend of classical, popular, and folk music traditions that spoke to audiences and Socialist Realist critics alike.

Works: Isaak Dunayevsky: score to Volga-Volga (542-43, 546-47, 549-53, 554)

Sources: Wagner: Tristan und Isolde (542-43); Mozart: Rondo alla turca from Piano Sonata No. 11 in A Major, K. 331 (546-47); Traditional: Samara (546-47), Shire krug (546-47); Iz-za ostrova na strezhen (546-47), Ei ukhnem (Song of the Volga Boatmen) (546-47), Zhil-bïl u babushka serekiy kozlik (546-47); Rossini: William Tell Overture (546-47); Dunayevsky: Molodezhnaya (546-47, 549-53); Schubert: Moment musical No. 3 in F Minor, D. 780 (549), Tchaikovsky: Eugene Onegin (554)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Musical self-borrowing was a popular method of scoring in America's Universal Pictures, which during the 1940s and 1950s often scored entire films (Erle C. Kenton: House of Dracula, Jack Arnold: Revenge of the Creature) with little more than tracked cues from their music library. Nevertheless, Hammer only sporadically reused their music tracks; fewer than a dozen Hammer films contain credited reused cues. Choosing to reuse music often arose from deadline pressures and budgetary pressures.

Works: Humphrey Searle: score to The Abominable Snowman of the Himalayas (15); Benjamin Frankel: score to The Curse of the Werewolf (15).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

The soundtrack for Easy Rider (1969), compiled by director/writer/actor Dennis Hopper and producer/writer/actor Peter Fonda, illustrates the complexity of rock compilation soundtracks and their potential to generate both inter- and intratextual meaning. When used as film music, rock and popular songs behave differently from traditional underscoring in that they are not easily manipulated and tend to create audiovisual “set-pieces.” Throughout Easy Rider there is a tight integration of song lyrics and images, suggesting a conscious intertextual negotiation by the filmmakers. For example, the shots that accompany Wasn’t Born to Follow by the Byrds mirror the forest imagery and “clear and jeweled waters” presented in the lyrics. This kind of deliberate intertextuality through citation and reference is a hallmark of New Hollywood cinema, of which Easy Rider is an early example. The rock soundtrack also resonates with the countercultural themes and social consciousness of the film. The soundtrack generates meaning through intratextual means; the musical set-pieces interact with the narrative structure of the film as well as each other. For example, in one segment, Fraternity of Man’s country-styled Don’t Bogart Me, accompanied by shots of a bucolic countryside, is interrupted sonically by Jimi Hendrix’s If 6 Was 9 and visually by shots of Louisianan imagery: a river bridge, grand Southern homes, and African American workers, the only black faces in the film. The sonic elements of the soundtrack also mirror the geographical progression of the film West to East, starting in Los Angeles with electric rock (Steppenwolf), then shifting to country rock (The Byrds), faux-country music (Fraternity of Man), and finally ending in Louisiana with blues-tinged electric rock (Jimi Hendrix). The central tragedy and theme of the film—that the idealism of the 1960s was doomed to be corrupted by its commodification—is expressed through song lyrics and is heightened by the self-awareness exemplified in its compiled rock soundtrack.

Works: Dennis Hopper (director), Peter Fonda (producer): compiled soundtrack to Easy Rider (303-28)

Sources: The Byrds: Wasn’t Born to Follow (303-5, 317-19); Fraternity of Man: Don’t Bogart Me (305-6, 313, 316-17); Electric Prunes: Kyrie Eleison (306); Steppenwolf: Born to Be Wild (306, 312-13), The Pusher (313, 323-25); The Jimi Hendrix Experience: If 6 was 9 (313, 315-17); Bob Dylan (songwriter), Roger McGuinn (performer): It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) (325); Bob Dylan and Roger McGuinn (songwriters), Roger McGuinn (performer): Ballad of the Easy Rider (325-26)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Popular, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Henry Mancini’s score for Touch of Evil (1958) is innovative for its new approach to diegetic cues rather than continuous background music, and for its use of jazz and rock idioms. The music does work as a suturing effect (connecting the audience to the setting) but rather destabilizes the perception of time and place and emphasizes contradictions and incongruity within the film through its hybrid nature. Jazz is itself a hybrid genre of West African and European music; Mancini’s genres of choice for this film were also a hybrid of Afro-Cuban and cool jazz, as well as mariachi. These musics were chosen to signal an emphasis on race within the film, particularly with different cultural motifs associated with different characters, regardless of the actual race of the actors. Though some critics, particularly jazz musicians, found Mancini’s score to be “faux jazz,” it was still pioneering for the time, introducing popular music sounds into what was previously pseudo-classical and Romantic era music. Different versions of the film further problematize Mancini’s score. The most recent version from 1998 cuts his theme entirely, removing most of his influence from the movie, in an attempt to follow director Orson Welles’s desire to limit the film to only diegetic music.

Works: Orson Welles (director): Touch of Evil (226-40).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Jazz, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Musicology is in need of generalist methodologies and perspectives for fragments, clichés, and non-sequiturs of classical music that occur in twentieth-century media and culture. Such music is related to the “vernacular imagination,” the shared phenomenon of twentieth-century American (and occasionally European) media audiences in which an artist’s imaginative priorities intersect with the past and with memory. Musicologists can adapt the notion of register, a tool used to locate a work culturally, to study this music in a way that traces the development and intersection of its fluctuating meanings, emphasizing audience reception of an expressive mass media rather than arguing for the absolute value of a musical object.

Works: Barry Manilow: Could it Be Magic (17); Kiss: Great Expectations (17); Billy Joel: This Night (18); DMX: What’s My Name? (34-40); Busta Rhymes: Gimme Some More (34, 38-40); Alan Crosland (director) and Louis Silvers (composer): score to The Jazz Singer (51-55, 73-81, 86, 177); Otto Preminger (director) and David Raksin (composer): score to Laura (42, 44-47, 52, 58-59, 76, 163); Irving Rapper (director) and Max Steiner (composer): score to Now, Voyager (59-60); Victor Fleming (director) and Max Steiner (composer): score to Gone with the Wind (69-70); Gregory La Cava (director) and Max Steiner (composer): score to Symphony of Six Million (86-101); Jefferson Airplane: White Rabbit (122-24); The Doors: Light My Fire (124); Led Zeppelin: Stairway to Heaven (126-27); Procol Harum: A Whiter Shade of Pale (129-39, 149-51); The Swingle Singers: Aria (135-37); Lawrence Kasdan (director) and Meg Kasdan (composer): soundtrack to The Big Chill (152-56); Alfred Hitchcock (director) and Bernard Herrmann (composer): score to Psycho (171-73); Robert Z. Leonard (director): soundtrack to Strange Interlude (181-83); James Whale (director) and Franz Waxman (composer): score to Bride of Frankenstein (190-95); Stephen Herek (director) and Michael Kamen (composer): score to Mr. Holland’s Opus (196-202); William Hanna and Joseph Barbera (directors) and Scott Bradley (music editor): score to Tom and Jerry, no. 29, The Cat Concerto (197-98); Friz Freleng (director): score to Merrie Melodies, episode Rhapsody Rabbit (197, 205); Carlos Santana and Dave Matthews: Love of My Life (214-16); Albert Lewin (director): The Picture of Dorian Gray (216-21); Queen: Bohemian Rhapsody (222-35); Penelope Spheeris (director): soundtrack to Wayne’s World (222-23, 231-32).

Sources: Chopin: Prelude in C minor, Op. 28, No. 20 (17); Beethoven: Piano Sonata in C Minor, Op. 13 (18); Richard Addinsell: Warsaw Concerto (34-35, 41); Bernard Herrmann: score to Psycho (34, 38-40); Tchaikovsky: Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture (51-58), Symphony No. 6 in B minor, Op. 74 (59-63); Handel, “Ombra mai fu” from Serse (69-70); Ravel: Bolero (123-24); Johann Sebastian Bach, Air from Suite in D Major, BWV 1068 (133-34), Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme, BWV 140 (133-34, 136-37); Procol Harum: A Whiter Shade of Pale (152-56); George Antheil: Symphony No. 4; Dukas: The Sorcerer’s Apprentice (190); Gottfried Huppertz: score to Metropolis (194-95); Liszt: Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 (198, 204-6); The Toys: Lover’s Concerto (196, 202-9, 213); The Supremes: I Hear a Symphony (196, 202-4, 213); Brahms: Symphony No. 3 in F Major, Op. 90 (214-16); Chopin: Prelude in D Minor, Op. 28, No. 24 (217-21); Queen: Bohemian Rhapsody (222-23); Mascagni: Cavalleria rusticana (227); Richard Strauss: Ariadne auf Naxos (227-31).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Popular, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

ABBA's music is used to negotiate the formation of gay identity in Muriel's Wedding. ABBA's "Dancing Queen" becomes the theme for the main character as she struggles to establish her unique persona in a small town. Muriel is marked by her friends as having outdated taste in music for listening to ABBA while at the same time making her more sympathetic to an urban audience that placed value on retro style and music. Through the use of 1970s popular music, Muriel's Wedding and The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert established a sense of camp, rather than kitsch, creating the identification with gay counter-culture. Alicia Bridges's "I Love the Nightlife" is used in Priscilla to portray both the town's backwater status and the theatrical nature of the drag queen performance, highlighting the tension between the main characters' identification with gay culture and the unyielding conservative culture of the small town.

Works: Peter Allen and Peter Best: music for Muriel's Wedding (79); Guy Gross: score to The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (83).

Sources: Benny Andersson, Stig Anderson, Bjorn Ulvaeus: Dancing Queen (79); Benny Andersson, Bjorn Ulvaeus: Fernando (83); Benny Andersson, Stig Anderson, Bjorn Ulvaeus: Waterloo (83), I Do, I Do (86); Alicia Bridges: I Love the Nightlife (81); Ken Hirsch and Ron Miller: I've Never Been to Me, as performed by Charlene (85); Henri Belolo, Jacques Morali, and Victor Willis: Go West (85); Dino Fekaris and Freddy Perren: I Will Survive as performed by Gloria Gaynor (87).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

Music in film can serve to strengthen the plot and emotional intensity if it is made an essential part of the narrative. In the case of Casablanca, Max Steiner scores approximately forty-five minutes of music that makes an indelible mark on the film's narrative through borrowing the French national anthem, La Marseillaise, the German national anthem, Deutschland über alles,As Time Goes By, and Watch on the Rhine, scoring them repeatedly in various ways to show sympathy for the star-crossed lovers. Adolph Deutsch's score for the Maltese Falcon contains fifty minutes of composed music that does not contain borrowed tunes, lending itself to a less noticeable role in the film's narrative. Steiner borrowed La Marseillaise to symbolize the French, and by extension, the Allied resistance to Nazi oppression. Deutschland über alles and Watch on the Rhine were used to symbolize the Nazi German menace. As Time Goes By is scored unobtrusively with background music throughout the score as a theme song, enhancing the unity of the film and imbuing the narrative with a strong sense of nostalgia.

Works: Max Steiner: score to Casablanca (118); Adolph Deutsch: score to The Maltese Falcon (128).

Sources: Joseph Haydn (tune), Hoffman and Fallersleben (poem): Deutschland über alles (119); Herman Hupfeld: As Time Goes By (121); Karl Wilhelm: Watch on the Rhine (121).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

The 1948 screwball comedy Unfaithfully Yours, written, produced, and directed by Preston Sturges, satirizes the elevated status of classical music through an extended fantasy sequence set in the mind of a conductor during a concert. Sir Alfred De Carter, the conductor, suspects his wife’s infidelity and imagines three scenarios inspired by the three works on the concert program: Rossini’s Semiramide, Wagner’s Tannhäuser, and Tchaikovsky’s Francesca da Rimini. Throughout the film, Alfred is depicted as a caricature of high society, only enjoying the veneer of high culture. During the fantasy sequences, the classical soundtrack fluctuates between being in the foreground and functioning as underscoring. Alfred’s fantasies take the original narratives of the music and distort them to comedic effect. In the Tannhäuser sequence, Alfred turns the opera’s theme of love and redemption on its head by patronizingly redeeming his adulterous wife, treating her as a prop for his noble act of forgiveness. In the sequence featuring Francesca da Rimini, based on a vignette from Dante’s Inferno, Alfred imagines himself the melodramatic hero, tormented in hell. The Semiramide sequence is the most involved, opening with a six-minute scene of the orchestra rehearsing the overture before delving into Alfred’s fantasy. In the rehearsal, Rossini’s overture serves as the background for slapstick humor, as in a bit where a percussionist has to rush offstage to grab a pair of comically large cymbals. At one point during the Semiramide fantasy, musical cues in pop styles humorously intrude on the classical score as Alfred sneaks boogie-woogie records into a stack of classical records within his fantasy. Music is core to the humor in other ways as well: several running jokes are tied to repeated musical cues. The final scene offers one last send-up of Hollywood’s use of classical music to evoke sentiment. Tannhäuser is heard once again, this time as non-diegetic underscoring to Alfred reaffirming his undying love for his wife, which—given his misreading of the music in his fantasies—rings flowery and hollow. Unfaithfully Yours demonstrates Preston Sturges’s control over his film score and his assessment of classical music’s role in American culture.

Works: Preston Sturges (director) and Alfred Newman (music director): score to Unfaithfully Yours (246-260)

Sources: Wagner: Tannhäuser (246-247), Tristan und Isolde (258-260); Tchaikovsky: Francesca da Rimini (247); Rossini: Semiramide (247-258); James Lord Pierpont, et al.: Jingle Bells (258-260)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

David Lynch uses compilation scores comprising American popular songs to establish individual sound signatures in his films. He is especially attracted to pop songs released during his adolescence that make use of distinctive vocals or mixing, which create a certain peculiarity with the naiveté of a song’s message, sincerity, and compositional elements. Lynch capitalizes on the dualistic nature of these songs by deploying them as historically unproblematic and desired objects of nostalgia, in some instances using them in violent, psychologically deviant, horrifying, and self-consciously staged scenes as passageways to strangeness and the uncanny. Such a use allows audiences to reimagine the history of these songs and the culture that created and consumed them and represents a new employment of the compilation score consistent with his aesthetic of the “ridiculous sublime.” In Mulholland Drive, the pop song I’ve Told Every Little Star represents the film’s theme of duality. In Lost Highway, the use of Lou Reed’s cover of This Magic Moment rather than the well-known pop versions matches the soundscape of the film and is metacommentary on the reception of American popular song. In Twin Peaks, a newly-composed pop song disrupts the security of reality, and in Blue Velvet, pop music complicates multiple layers of diegesis, performance, and reality.

Works: David Lynch (director): soundtrack to Lost Highway (494, 502-3), soundtrack to Eraserhead (494, 499), soundtrack to Blue Velvet (507-9); David Lynch (director) and Angelo Badalamenti (composer): soundtrack to Mulholland Drive (494, 494-501), soundtrack to Twin Peaks (494, 503-6).

Sources: Bill Post and Doree Post: Sixteen Reasons (Why I Love You) (500); Oscar Hammerstein II and Jerome Kern: I’ve Told Ev’ry Little Star (500-501); Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman (songwriters) and The Drifters (performers): This Magic Moment (500-502); Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman (songwriters) and Lou Reed (performer): This Magic Moment (502-3); Bobby Vinton: Blue Velvet (507-8); Roy Orbison: In Dreams (508-9).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

The musical context of pre-existing pieces used in film scores may help one derive meaning from a score. While film director Robert Bresson completely rejected non-diegetic film music at the end of his career, Au Hasard, Balthazar represents the culmination of his admired treatment of rhythm and form in film music. He avoids postmodern irony present in films such as 2001: A Space Odyssey, choosing instead to merge the aural and visual to the point that they are dependent on each other. Fragments of the Andantino from Schubert's Piano Sonata in A Major, D. 959 are arranged in a way that adds meaning to the film. It is essential for viewers to pay attention to the meaning of these fragments both as they function within the film and according to their original function, as the images and sounds in the film transform one another.

Works: Robert Bresson (director): Sound track to Au Hasard, Balthazar.

Sources: Schubert: Piano Sonata in A Major, D. 959.

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Scholars cannot assume that Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings has a stable meaning in film and must examine the multiplicity of meanings and ambiguities created by its use in film. In four films the Adagio transgresses boundaries of filmic diegesis and narrative into ambiguous meanings and spaces. The audience is required to contend with the Adagio in Oliver Stone’s Platoon because it stands out not only from the brutality of the film but also from the composed score and the diegesis of the movie. André Téchiné’s Les roseaux sauvages uses the Adagio with subtlety and restraint at dramatic moments of external rupture among characters, and the piece also functions as an indication of the internal world of the characters, or metadiegesis. In George Miller’s Lorenzo’s Oil the Adagio is one piece among many borrowed classical compositions used in the film, and it is the only one that represents hopelessness and deep anguish. The soundscape established in David Lynch’s The Elephant Man, composed of both underscoring by John Morris and diegetic sound, is violent, and the single instance of the Adagio in the film occurs during the ending sequence involving the diseased protagonist’s resignation and suicide. The Adagio is a mindscreen reflecting the metadiegesis of the protagonist and its connection to forces in the universe beyond human control.

Works: Oliver Stone (director): soundtrack to Platoon (461, 464-74, 493); David Lynch (director): soundtrack to The Elephant Man (461, 464-65, 480-81, 486-93); Jean-Pierre Jeunet (director): soundtrack to Amélie (464); Liam Lynch (director): soundtrack to Tenacious D (464); Andy Ackerman (director): soundtrack to Seinfeld (464-65); André Téchiné (director): soundtrack to Les roseaux sauvages (464-66, 474-80, 493); George Miller (director): soundtrack to Lorenzo’s Oil (465, 480-86, 492-93).

Sources: Samuel Barber: Adagio for Strings, Op. 11.

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

The compilation soundtrack of David Lynch’s 1997 film Lost Highway, particularly its use of cover songs, works together with the film’s narrative and imagery to destabilize the viewer’s experience in support of the film’s depiction of toxic masculinity. Three cover songs appear at crucial points in Lost Highway: Lou Reed’s cover of This Magic Moment, made popular by The Drifters; Marilyn Manson’s cover of I Put a Spell on You by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins; and This Mortal Coil’s cover of Song to the Siren by Tim Buckley and Larry Beckett. Each cover is a generic reset, transforming a familiar song into an aggressive alt-rock genre. The generic resets mirror the narrative transformation of the main characters into film-noir, masculine-wish-fulfillment doppelgängers as well as the visual indulgence in macho rock iconography. The disruptive effect of the audience misidentifying the cover songs highlights the menace and violence in this masculine fantasy. The scene featuring I Put a Spell on You exemplifies this effect; Marilyn Manson’s industrial rock cover scores a scene of a noir-fantasy striptease at gunpoint, with the discomforting music emphasizing the scene’s coercive violence. Lou Reed’s distortion-heavy cover of This Magic Moment accompanies another fantasy sequence, subverting its borderline-cliché love-at-first-sight imagery. This Mortal Coil’s goth version of Song to the Siren appears three times during the film: it first plays faintly during an awkward, failed sex scene in reality; next it appears as the film’s perspective turns to the noir fantasy; and finally, it plays loudly during the triumphant fantasy sex scene, which ends in an abrupt transformation back into reality. The three appearances of the song mark the psychosexual narrative throughline of a sexually frustrated man driven to a fantasy of being a young, virile stud, only to have the fantasy come crashing down in the end. The fact that it is a cover song literalizes the idea of destabilized masculine identity. Thus, the film’s abrasive alternative soundtrack is not merely a nod to the youth market, but integral to the film’s deconstruction of toxic masculinity.

Works: David Lynch (director): Compilation score to Lost Highway (37-45); Lou Reed (performer): This Magic Moment (37-39); Marilyn Manson (performer): I Put a Spell on You (38-39); This Mortal Coil (performer): Song to the Siren (38-39)

Sources: Doc Pomus and Mort Shuman: This Magic Moment (37-39); Screamin’ Jay Hawkins: I Put a Spell on You (38-39); Tim Buckley and Larry Beckett: Song to the Siren (38-39); Lou Reed (performer): This Magic Moment (42-44); Marilyn Manson (performer): I Put a Spell on You (41-42); This Mortal Coil (performer): Song to the Siren (44-45)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Popular, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Adult animation series The Simpsons, South Park, and Family Guy share several common categories of musical usage. Since the earliest animated short films in the 1920s, music has been integral to dramaturgy and storytelling in animation. Later, animated sitcoms like The Flintstones and The Jetsons used music in more limited, but no less important ways. While The Simpsons, South Park, and Family Guy have developed in different directions, they all use music to spoof American culture and society. The Simpsons tends to use current music references and recomposed soundalikes while Family Guy tends to use older music in its original form. South Park uses music less often, but musical pop culture of Generations X and Y is still a core component of the show. The use of songs in adult animation can be categorized as recitativo, songs that underscore or forward the plot, and aria, action stopping musical numbers. An example of recitativo in Family Guy can be seen in a scene where Lois prepares for a boxing match and the camera cuts to Peter singing Eye of the Tiger ringside, parodying the Rocky film franchise. The aria category of song use is exemplified by another Family Guy scene that cuts away to the entire music video for David Bowie and Mick Jagger’s Dancing in the Street, diverting entirely from the plot of the episode. The opening sequences of each show also demonstrate the importance of music in their respective narrative and comedic identities. Each show occasionally parodies other television opening themes, as South Park does in its multi-episode parody of Game of Thrones, transforming Ramin Djawadi’s opening title music into A Chorus of Wieners. Each show has also done music-centric episodes where characters join a band, for instance, or the episode itself is structured like a mini musical. With these three series becoming major influences in their medium, music has once again become the backbone of animation.

Works: Carl W. Stalling: soundtrack to The Skeleton Dance (71-72); Alf Clausen: soundtrack to The Simpsons (80, 83); Ron Jones and Walter Murphy: soundtrack to Family Guy (89-91); Adam Berry, Scott Nickoley, and Jamie Dunlap: soundtrack to South Park (84-85, 98-100).

Sources: Edvard Grieg: Trolltog, Op. 54, No. 3 (71-72); Bernard Herrmann: soundtrack to Cape Fear (80); Hans Zimmer: soundtrack to Inception (83); Erick Wolfgang Korngold: soundtrack to The Sea Hawk (84); Zach Hemsey: Mind Heist (84-85); Mozart: Eine kleine Nachtmusik (85-6); Survivor: Eye of the Tiger (89-90); William Stevenson (songwriter), David Bowie and Mick Jagger (performers): Dancing In The Street (91); Ramin Djawadi: soundtrack to Game of Thrones (98-100).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Popular, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Film music serves many purposes in supporting the visual media by setting the mood, location, or time-period, suggesting a principal ethnic group, reinforcing action, offering contrary information, and drawing attention away from undesirable visual images. Film scores borrow from well-known pre-existing music to suggest location, time, and ethnic groups. In John Cromwell's Of Human Bondage, the music switches from "La Marseillaise" to "British Grenadiers" to signal the main character's change in location. Film score composers allude stylistically to ethnic folk music idioms to suggest a particular group of people. These idioms are often spuriously employed through the repetitious use of a particular convention, such as a pentatonic scale, gongs, and temple bells to signify Chinese traditional music, or heavy drumbeats and chanting for Native American music. Film music composers often model compositions on stylistic conventions of a given period in Western art music. Max Steiner's score for The Informer, set in Ireland during the 1920s, borrowed the Irish traditional tune, "The Minstrel Boy," Miklos Rozsa's score for Ivanhoe reflects the film's setting through the music of French troubadours, and Elmer Bernstein's score for The Ten Commandments draws on the unique timbre of the ram's horn during the Exodus scene. Bernard Herrmann's score for The 7th Voyage of Sinbad did not directly borrow the corresponding ethnic idiomatic music, but implied its use through the borrowing of Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade. Early American film scores were often modeled on or borrowed directly from late nineteenth-century European composers, as Joseph Carl Breil's score for the 1915 Birth of a Nation used Richard Wagner's "The Ride of the Valkyries." Aaron Copland and Virgil Thomson influenced the move towards sparse orchestration in later American film score composers by incorporating American folksongs. Jazz and popular music became frequent sources of borrowing in the 1940s, as did rock music from the 1950s through the 1970s in films as in Rock Around the Clock,Don't Knock the Rock, and The Twist.American Graffiti used rock music as background for stories of the turbulence and uncertainty of the period. Film score composers are now employing both rich symphonic scoring along with the "musical potpourri" of the silent film era.

Works: Max Steiner: score to Of Human Bondage (27), score to The Informer (28); Miklos Rozsa: score to Ivanhoe (28); Bernard Herrmann: score to The 7th Voyage of Sinbad (28); George Lucas, et al.: score to American Graffiti (32).

Sources: Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade (28); Richard Wagner: "Ride of the Valkyries" from Die Walküre (29); Jimmy DeKnight and Max Freedman: Rock Around the Clock as performed by Bill Haley and the Comets (32).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

The use and adaptation of existing music in animated films involved more than mere selective quotation. While small segments and entire movements of "classical" pieces from the 18th to the early 20th centuries were sometimes animated, composers were most often required to be adept at altering the formal structure of an existing work to accommodate the requirements of the animated film. In the lighter, more eclectic style of animated shorts, scores like those by Scott Bradley exhibit characteristics of Stravinsky, including octatonicism, tonally disjunct melody figurations, and orchestration. In major animated films such as those of Disney, Tchaikovsky's ballet music was similarly adapted. Significantly, the forms in which these existing works were used represented the first exposure to these pieces for many spectators of these animated films.

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: David Oliver

Alex North employs an economical and scholarly approach to his musical settings for John Huston’s 1987 film adaptation of The Dead by James Joyce, mediating the musicality of Joyce’s text with Huston’s cinematic vision. Throughout his celebrated short story, Joyce references music and music making, and the Irish folk ballad The Lass of Aughrim serves as a central narrative device for exploring themes of nostalgia, regret, and homesickness. Consequently, most of the film’s score consists of North’s arrangements of music performed diegetically. In preparation for his work on The Dead, North procured an extensive research library on traditional Irish music and carefully considered which version of the The Lass of Aughrim to include based on what might be perceived as authentic by the characters in the narrative. North’s selection of a “Scottish” variant of the tune has been criticized since the film’s release, but the evidence of his research demonstrates that this selection was correct according to his understanding of the material and not a careless error. In the non-diegetic portions of the score, North orchestrates Irish folk tunes with a nuanced approach to the melancholy of Joyce’s text. Despite being ineligible for an Academy Award due to its “adapted” nature, North’s score to The Dead remains an important work in the presentation of Irish folk music on film, and his version of The Lass of Aughrim has since become the preferred version of the tune in both classical and traditional venues.

Works: Alex North: score to The Dead (230-37)

Sources: Traditional: The Lass of Aughrim (230-37), Silent Oh Moyle (236-37)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

The composers of long-running animated sitcoms The Simpsons and Family Guy often utilize the technique of copyphrase, or copyright-paraphrase, to unmistakably call to mind specific pieces of music while avoiding charges of copyright infringement. Alf Clausen, series composer for The Simpsons, developed a default copyphrase procedure in the mid-1990s that has served as a model for later television composers. Clausen’s procedure involves preserving the rhythm and phrasing of the target melody but altering the pitches, often inverting the contour. This can be seen in his mock-up of Alan Menken’s Under the Sea in the episode “Homer Badman” (1994) and See My Vest, a copyphrase of Menken’s Be My Guest in “Two Dozen and One Greyhounds” (1995). Family Guy composers Walter Murphy and Ron Jones, influenced by Clausen, frequently use comparable copyphrase techniques in early seasons. The season two premiere alone contains three distinct examples of copyphrase, including an extended parody of I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here (from the musical Annie). A copyphrase parody of MC Hammer’s U Can’t Touch This in the episode “E. Peterbus Unum” even has a direct admission of borrowing when Peter Griffin declares “Hammer, you can’t sue!” mid-song. Two unsuccessful lawsuits brought against Family Guy in the mid-2000s—the first dismissed and the second ruled in the show’s favor—apparently emboldened the producers of The Simpsons and Family Guy to include sharper musical satire in later episodes. In later seasons, the two shows have diverged in their approach to music. A 2008 episode of The Simpsons, “That 90’s Show,” demonstrates the show's continuing engagement with (relatively) recent musical materials with two copyphrases of 1990s grunge songs. Family Guy, on the other hand, has largely abandoned copyphrase in favor of original music. Although The Simpsons could feasibly license existing music, the technique of copyphrase still serves an important aesthetic function maintaining the show’s escapist tone.

Works: Alf Clausen: soundtrack to The Simpsons (224-27, 231-34); Walter Murphy and Ron Jones: soundtrack to Family Guy (227-32)

Sources: Alan Menken (composer) and Howard Ashman (lyricist): Under the Sea (224-25), Be Our Guest (225-26); Falco, Rob Bolland, and Ferdi Bolland: Rock Me Amadeus (226); Charles Strouse (composer) and Martin Charnin (lyricist): I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here (227); Karl Jenkins: Palladio (227); John Williams: score to Star Wars (227-28); MC Hammer: U Can’t Touch This (229); Robert B. Sherman and Richard M. Sherman: It’s a Small World (After All) (229-30); Leigh Harline (composer) and Ned Washington (lyricist): When You Wish Upon a Star (230); Joe Hamilton: Carol’s Theme (230-31); Frank Churchill (composer) and Larry Morey (lyricist): Heigh Ho! (231); Kurt Cobain, Nirvana: Rape Me (232-33); Gavin Rossdale, Bush: Glycerin (233)

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Popular, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Film composer John Williams is often accused of plagiarism in public discourse, but when analyzing his musical borrowing as stylistic allusion, modeling, and paraphrased quotation, it becomes clear that he is not a plagiarist even in the more conservative Romantic sense. Uncovering musical borrowing in Williams’s film scores poses a challenge as Williams is reticent to admit any influence from other composers, yet the sources for borrowed passages are well known pieces. One example of modeling is the main theme from Jaws (1974), modeled after The Augers of Spring from Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. Passages in many other Williams scores—appearing when the hero is in danger—also appear to be modeled on the same section of Rite. Williams also modeled music for at least three films on Howard Hanson’s Symphony No. 2, which was used as a temp track in the production of E.T. (1982). Throughout Williams’s scores there are examples of passages resembling other music, but not enough to make a case for borrowing. One clear example of paraphrase is the love theme from Superman, which shares rhythm, contour, and tempo (but not exact pitches) with a motive from Richard Strauss’s Tod und Verklärung. Two examples of paraphrased themes in E.T. demonstrate Williams’s default procedure: altering the rhythm and meter of a source while only slightly altering the pitches. Williams’s score for Star Wars (1977) contains numerous examples of paraphrase, with passages drawn from Erich Korngold’s score to Kings Row (1942), Rite of Spring, and Gustav Holst’s The Planets. Compared to other film composers working under similar time and creative constraints inherent to the medium, Williams makes a clear effort to distance his paraphrased passages from their source material. William is therefore not guilty of plagiarism or theft. Instead, his creative process places him in the company of countless composers who use pre-existing material as a starting point for a new piece of music.

Works: John Williams: score to Jaws (303-4), score to E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (304-5, 309-11), score to Superman (308-9), score to Star Wars (311-16), score to Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace (316-17), score to Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (317); Bill Conti: score to The Right Stuff (318-19)

Sources: Igor Stravinsky: Rite of Spring (303-4, 314, 315); Howard Hanson: Symphony No. 2, Op. 30, Romantic (304-5, 310-11); Richard Strauss: Tod und Verklärung (308-9); Antonín Dvořák: Piano Trio No. 4, Op. 90, Dumky (309-10), Symphony No. 9 in E Minor, From the New World (316-17); Erich Wolfgang Korngold: score to Kings Row (313-14); Gustav Holst: The Planets (314-16); Aram Khatchaturian: Gayane (317); Tchaikovsky: Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 35 (318-19)

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

The 1941 film Ivan was produced and directed by Sergei Eisenstein in Moscow, Russia, based on the life of Ivan the Terrible. The film's score, by Sergei Prokofiev, borrows heavily from Russian folk and ecclesiastical idioms to convey nationalistic sentiments. The Russian folk songs "Russian Sea" and "Song of the Beaver" are used and both a "round dance" and an ardent love song are modeled on the folk idiom. Humming of a liturgical chant results in a "devil's parody." Close modeling on the works of Rimsky-Korsakov are evident through the thematic material in his first opera, The Maid of Pskov, a narrative of Ivan the Terrible, and the similarities of folk idiom use in Act III of The Snow Maiden, where the woodland festivities begin with a "round dance" and "Song of the Beaver." Prokofiev may or may not have intentionally borrowed from the folk traditions or from Rimsky-Korsakov, but the fact that the score is so saturated with Russian folk and ecclesiastical idioms shows how conversant he was with his own musical heritage.

Works: Sergei Prokofiev: score for Ivan (179-81).

Sources: Russian traditional song: Russian Sea,Song of the Beaver (179); Nikolay Rimsky-Korsakov: The Maid of Pskov,The Snow Maiden,The Tsar's Bride (179).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

Stanley Kubrick sampled over 400 recordings to create the score to 2001: A Space Odyssey, replacing original music by Alex North. While the soundtrack of pre-existing music would become quite popular, some denounced it for being arbitrary and cheaply exploiting classical music. Until recently, these issues have kept the music from being discussed as a musical score. Reading the entire soundtrack as a unit allows it to be understood as a chronological progression of harmonic languages that create unity throughout the film, which emphasizes structure and proportion both visually and aurally. Aural cues also underscore certain themes; for example, the opening of Also Sprach Zarathustra represents birth and becoming. Despite the patchwork form of the soundtrack, borrowed atonal and tonal harmonic streams are effectively utilized to create a score that intersects with the film's narrative.

Works: Stanley Kubrick (director): Sound track to 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Sources: György Ligeti: Atmosphères (448-50, 456-57), Requiem (452-53, 456-57), Lux Aeterna (456-57), Aventures (467-69); Richard Strauss: Also Sprach Zarathustra (450-52, 455-56); Johann Strauss: The Blue Danube Waltz (453-56); Aram Khachaturian: Gayane (458-61); Mildred Hill: Happy Birthday (461-62); Harry Dacre: Daisy Bell (463-67).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Parodies of pop music are popular features of late-night TV shows in both the United States and Germany, and their self-referential, autopoietic mode of communication makes parodies a commercial strategy for pop music itself. Such parodies especially flourish on YouTube. For example, the (illegal) YouTube upload of the 2005 Saturday Night Live sketch Lazy Sunday, a parody of The Message by Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, became an early hit for the platform. Since its premiere, The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon has regularly featured pop music parodies, and has regularly uploaded sketches to its official YouTube channel. The 2015 sketch Wheel of Musical Impressions featuring Ariana Grande and Jimmy Fallon is emblematic of this trend and is built on an unusual parody conceit: instead of altering the lyrics to the songs being parodied, Grande and Fallon alter their vocal timbres to mimic other famous pop singers. In Germany, comedian Jan Böhmermann fills the same pop music parody role as Fallon as host of ZDF Neomagazin Royale. His 2015 music video Ich hab Polizei parodies American gangsta rap by presenting the German police in musical and visual trappings of the genre. Another Böhmermann parody, Eine Deutsche Rapgeschichte, goes further in its parody of German hip hop with numerous references to popular German rap songs and rappers. As a global phenomenon, these late-night show pop music parodies rely on insider knowledge for their appeal and at the same time construct a canon of pop music through performance.

Works: Saturday Night Live: Lazy Sunday (217-18); Jimmy Fallon and Ariana Grande: Wheel of Musical Impressions (220-23); Jan Böhmermann: Eine Deutsche Rapgeschichte (227-29).

Sources: Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five: The Message (217-18); Traditional: Mary Had a Little Lamb (220), The Wheels on the Bus (220-21); The Weeknd: Can’t Feel My Face (221); Advanced Chemistry: Fremd im eigenen Land (227-28); Absolute Beginner featuring Samy Deluxe: Füchse (228); Fanta 4: Die da (229); Zugezogen Maskulin: Endlich wieder Beef (229).

Index Classifications: 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Ry Cooder's apprenticeship as a soundtrack specialist began in the 1960s in Southern California, where he was active in the blues and folk circles. Known primarily as a recording artist, Cooder is particularly adept at providing atmosphere for rural, Southwest, and Deep South settings; the three-inch, sawed-off sherry bottle neck he uses on slide guitar provides a rich tone that evokes the scorching heat and background dust of the American south. His music has been borrowed for several films depicting the rural South, and Cooder himself has compiled soundtracks for various feature length films and documentaries. Cooder's music first appeared in Blue Collar, directed by Paul Schrader, which borrowed Cooder's blues-based "Hard Working Man" in 1978 to depict auto workers' struggles with management and their unions. Later that year Cooder's 1970 song "Available Space" was used in Goin' South, directed by Jack Nicholson. Cocktail features Cooder's cover of "All Shook Up," and Steel Magnolias borrows Cooder's "I Got Mine" and Hank Williams's "Jambalaya" to convey a Cajun culture. Roger Donaldson's Cadillac Man makes use of Cooder's "The Tattler," as well as The Bee Gees's "Stayin' Alive," and Percy Mayfield's "Hit the Road Jack" to underscore Robin Williams's character's redemption.

Works: Jack Nitzsche and Ry Cooder: score to Blue Collar (57); Roger Donaldson: score to Goin' South (57); J. Peter Robinson, Jim Weidman, et al.: score to Cocktail (60); Georges Delerue: score to Steel Magnolias (61).

Sources: Ry Cooder: Hard Working Man (57), Available Space (57); Traditional: I Got Mine as performed by Ry Cooder (61); Ry Cooder: The Tattler (61); Hank Williams: Jambalaya (61); Otis Blackwell: All Shook Up as performed by Ry Cooder (60); Barry Gibb, Maurice Gibb, and Barry Gibb: Stayin' Alive (61); Percy Mayfield: Hit the Road Jack (61).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kathleen Widden

Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s adaptation of Felix Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream for the 1935 Warner Bros. production of the same title, as well as the publicity behind it, played a critical role in elevating film music and helped establish Korngold as a uniquely independent artist within the film studio system. Korngold’s involvement was specifically requested by the film’s director, Max Reinhardt, who had earned recent acclaim with his theatrical production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the Hollywood Bowl. Korngold was also much more involved on set than was typical of a 1930s film composer. Korngold made numerous cuts, edits, and reorchestrations of Mendelssohn’s original score in order to better fit the film edit and the darker tone that Reinhardt established in his direction. This is particularly evident in the film sequences “Nocturno” and “Fog Dance.” Additional music by Mendelssohn was also included by Korngold at various points throughout the film score. In promotional material for the film, Warner Bros. emphasized Korngold’s involvement with the music as a way of promoting Dream as a prestige film with serious artistic merit. Dream was billed as a film to really listen to as much as watch. Although the film itself received mixed reviews, Korngold’s contribution was lauded in the press, which helped to launch the Hollywood career of the influential film composer.

Works: Erich Wolfgang Korngold: score to A Midsummer Night’s Dream (218-28)

Sources: Felix Mendelssohn: A Midsummer Night’s Dream (218-28); Neue Liebe, Op. 19, No. 4 (219), Symphony No. 3, Op. 56 (219), Scherzo in E Minor for Piano, Op. 16, No. 2 (219)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

The song Que Sera, Sera plays an important part in the plot for Alfred Hitchcock’s 1956 version of The Man Who Knew Too Much. In order to get Jimmy Stewart to agree to be in the film, his agent bundled in others represented by the same company including Ray Evans and Jay Livingston, who had pre-written some songs. Hitchcock was impressed with Que Sera, Sera and used it for a large part of the film’s plot. Bernard Hermann, the film’s composer, was unimpressed (he supposedly referred to the song as a “piece of junk”), but the song plays a large role in the film as a whole. There are many labyrinthine aspects to both the film’s plot and its mise-en-scène, and the song echoes this complexity despite its outwardly simple appearance. Within the film, the song often plays with space through acousmatic placement and with time through its forward looking lyrics set in the past (“When I was just a little girl / I asked my mother ‘What will I be?’”). The diegetic quality of this one popular song aspect of the otherwise classical score is emphasized in that Que Sera, Sera is included in its entirety in the film, an unusual decision for a popular song that both normalizes and emphasizes the performance.

Works: Alfred Hitchcock (director): The Man Who Knew Too Much (53-70).

Sources: Ray Evans and Jay Livingston: Que Sera, Sera (53-70).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

See abstracts for individual chapters by Claudia Gorbman, Mike Cormack, Lars Franke, Ann Davies, Jeongwon Joe, Kristi A. Brown, Vanessa Knights, Raymond Knapp, Ronald Rodman, Phil Powrie, Robynn Stilwell, and Timothy Warner.

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

The accordion in French cinema is a marker both of the past (including utopian longings for it) and of Frenchness. Three periods of French films that use accordion music exist, and Yann Tiersen's award-winning score for Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain (Amélie), composed mostly of music from Tiersen's own pre-existing albums, offers a glimpse at a possible future period. While Amélie was criticized as a film for presenting a sanitized version of the area in France it depicts, Tiersen's music works against the clean-cut culture. The soundtrack establishes an imaginary sonic architecture built from melancholic retrospection through layers of Tiersen's minimalistic, pre-existing music. The use of Tiersen's accordion music rather than traditional tunes avoids citation of stereotyped music and allows accordion music to be reinvigorated.

Works: Jean-Pierre Jeunet (director), Yann Tiersen (composer): Sound track to Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain (Amélie) (146-51).

Sources: Yann Tiersen: La Valse des monstres (146), La Rue des cascades (146), Le Phare (146), L'Absente (147).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Popular songs can accrue meaning through their place in films. Although the concept of filmic leitmotivs is generally reserved for classical music, it can also apply to uses of popular music. In the case of Benny Goodman’s Sing Sing Sing, the filmic and cross-filmic leitmotivs associate the song not only with the Swing Era in general but also with a feeling of danger and wildness. Neither of these associations comes from the song alone; despite its popularity, the song came at the end of the Swing Era and was not a part of that period’s heyday, and there was no original connotation of danger for the song. The inclusion of Sing Sing Sing began in films with diegetic music, such as its use in dance and concert settings in Hollywood Hotel (1937) and The Benny Goodman Story (1956). These instances help to set up the aural connotation of the music with the essence of the Swing Era. Later uses did not need to be diegetic to evoke these images of the Swing Era, since associations with the music had already entered audience consciousness, and led to mimicked allusions to the song in other films. Later usages with Nazis in Swing Kids (1993) and Hell in Deconstructing Harry (1997) further cement the music’s “dangerous” connotation.

Works: Busby Berkeley (director): Hollywood Hotel (35); Valentine Davies (director): The Benny Goodman Story (36-38); Shinobu Yaguchi (director): Swing Girls (38-39); Thomas Carter (director): Swing Kids (40-41); Michel Hazanavicius (director): The Artist (41); Charles Russell (director): The Mask (41); Anthony Hickox (director): Waxwork (41); Patrice Leconte (director): La Fille sur le Pont (41); Woody Allen (director): New York Stories (41-42), Manhattan Murder Mystery (41-42), Deconstructing Harry (41-43).

Sources: Benny Goodman: Sing Sing Sing (33-43).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Jazz, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

The study of film music is often focused on the classical film score, which derives from late nineteenth-century opera and musical theater, including features such as the use of symphony orchestras, functional tonality, the leitmotif, and a newly composed score. However, the practice of the compilation score has been around from the earliest days of film, and by the end of the twentieth century, the popular music score was being used in a postmodern manner, decentering the role of the unique musical work and drawing upon the style and celebrity of a musical work, exemplified by Pulp Fiction and Trainspotting. In Pulp Fiction, the musical style of borrowed popular music rather than a singular theme is used as a leitmotif, and in Trainspotting, celebrity and irony are used as a leitmotif through the social codes (the mode of Social Practice). Full lists of borrowed music for the films are included in tables.

Works: Quentin Tarantino (director): Sound track to Pulp Fiction (121, 123-30); Danny Boyle (director): Sound track to Trainspotting (121, 130-35).

Sources: Dick Dale and the Deltones (performers): Misirlou (126); Kool and the Gang: Jungle Boogie (126); John Hurley and Ronnie Wilkins (songwriters), Dusty Springfield (performer): Son of a Preacher Man (126); Neil Diamond (composer), Urge Overkill (performer): Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon (126); Lew DeWitt (composer), Statler Brothers (performers): Flowers on the Wall (126); Gerald Sanders, Jesse Sanders, Norman Sanders, and Leonard Delaney (songwriters), The Tornadoes (performers): Bustin' Surfboards (126); Dennis Rose and Earnest Furrow (songwriters), The Centurians (performers): Bullwinkle, Part II (126); Sam Eddy, Dean Sorensen, and Paul Sorensen (songwriters), The Revels (performers): Comanche (126); Bob Bogle, Nole Edwards, and Don Wilson (songwriters), The Lively Ones (performers): Surf Rider (126); Bizet: Carmen (131); Iggy Pop and David Bowie (songwriters), Iggy Pop (performer): Lust for Life (133), Nightclubbing (134).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Composers of film scores are not usually involved in the choice of any pre-existing songs that appear within the film, but these works are often very important to both the narrative of the film and to the soundtrack itself. Instead, these choices are made by the music supervisor, who decides what songs should be included in the film, usually with specific feedback from the director. There are completely different budgets for the music supervisor to license films and the film composer to create a new score. The two must coordinate in order to create a score and soundtrack that work together. Sometimes the supervisor has chosen the songs for the film long before the composer is brought onto the project, which can make this collaboration difficult. In other cases, the composer is chosen at the start of the film, which can change the dynamic. The use of the temp score can be a stumbling block to both the composer and music supervisor, who are often asked to emulate the temp track, and directors and writers often request songs from the music supervisor with no thought to how much the licensing fees for those songs cost.

Works: Jay Roach (director): Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me (262); Giorgio Moroder: Score to Metropolis (263); Sam Mendes (director): American Beauty (263-64).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

Rachmaninoff used the Dies Irae chant to create a five-note motif in Isle of the Dead, and the motif crafted by Bernard Herrmann for the title character in Citizen Kane is strikingly similar to that of Rachmaninoff. Two possible explanations for this semblance exist: the motif of Herrmann resembles that of Rachmaninoff because it is modeled on the Isle of the Dead, or the resemblance exists because the two motifs are modeled on a common source, the Dies Irae. When applying musical hermeneutics to film, it is necessary to consider the musical associations composers may make when viewing films as they prepare to compose a score. The application of musical hermeneutics to the Kane motif suggests that Herrmann modeled it on the motif of Rachmaninoff because when Herrmann first saw cinematic images of Xanadu he was reminded of the painting by Arnold Böcklin, The Island of the Dead, which had inspired Rachmaninoff’s symphonic poem. That Herrmann never attributes this motif to Rachmaninoff could be explained by his general silence on the issue of musical borrowing in his music or by the process of cryptomnesia, in which an artist or writer unintentionally borrows from a work he or she has forgotten.

Works: Orson Welles (director) and Bernard Herrmann (composer): score to Citizen Kane (104-13); Rachmaninoff: Isle of the Dead (104-13).

Sources: Anonymous: Dies Irae (104-13); Rachmaninoff: Isle of the Dead (104-13).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

The main title of the original Dracula (1930) consists of an abbreviated version of scene 2 from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. Whether conscious or not, the composer Heinz Roemheld was carrying on into sound pictures a convention from silent films, in which Tchaikovsky's piece was used as a misterioso. Original pieces from the 18th and 19th centuries were often employed in the scores of these "B movies," as producers naively believed this would bring sophistication and class to their films, the quality of which was admittedly substandard. The harmonic language peculiar to pieces such as Stravinsky's Firebird and Petroushka and the whole-tone scale in particular have become characteristic of horror film music since the early 1930s.

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: David Oliver

The analysis of film scores must consider not only the finished score but also the various layers of the construction process, including the so-called “temp track,” a temporary soundtrack often comprising cues from existing films or other pre-existing music. The temp track maps the topography of the future score and its relation to the film, and along with its precursor, the compilation score, it is limited in its ability to synchronize with the film by its use of units of pre-existing phrase structures and forms. Despite its limitations and the artistic misgivings of many composers, it is often extremely influential upon the final score. Music editors are thus increasingly powerful and significant in the establishment and perpetuation of musical filmic conventions, acting as surrogate composers.

Works: Antoine Fuqua (director) and Roy Prendergast (music editor): temp track to Tears of the Sun (170-74); Antoine Fuqua (director) and Hans Zimmer (composer): score to Tears of the Sun (172-73); Jonathan Demme (director) and Suzana Peric (music editor): temp track to Philadelphia (176-79); Jonathan Demme (director) and Howard Shore (composer): score to Philadelphia (176-79).

Sources: Alan Silvestri: score to What Lies Beneath (171-72, 174); Bruce Springsteen: Streets of Philadelphia (176-79).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

The film scores of John Williams are best understood with the concept of teleological genesis, and the score for Close Encounters of the Third Kind in particular combines this principle with motivic allusion in order to trigger subconscious associations in the viewer. Teleological genesis, the principle of developing motivic fragments into an extended melodic idea at the culmination of a piece, was first associated with composers such as Mahler and Strauss, but Williams’s film scores operate on essentially the same principle. His score for Close Encounters is an example of this practice with the additional twist of developing two contradictory ideas simultaneously—one of wonder and one of terror—reflecting the ambiguous nature of the aliens. The terror motive alludes to the Dies irae, a common musical symbol of the macabre and (more importantly to the theme of Close Encounters) the apocalypse. However, the Dies irae acts as a musical red herring in Close Encounters, a trick Williams uses again in his score to Home Alone. The wonder motive (“Fate is Kind”) alludes to When You Wish Upon a Star from Disney’s Pinocchio (1940). Williams intended to simply use the original recording from Pinocchio but opted instead to incorporate the tune into a new theme. The allusion is further developed in the revised score for the 1980 Special Edition release of Close Encounters. Williams develops the “Fate is Kind” motive teleologically through the film, merging with the Dies irae theme at key moments to evoke the uncertainty of the final alien encounter. In the end, the score (and film) arrives at the goal and the “Fate is Kind” motive transforms into the famous “Visitors” finale sequence.

Works: John Williams: score to Close Encounters of the Third Kind (104-23), score to War of the Worlds (106), score to Home Alone (107-8)

Sources: Attributed to Thomas of Celano: Dies irae (104-8, 112-14); Mykola Leontovych: Carol of the Bells (107-8); Leigh Harline and Ned Washington: When You Wish Upon a Star (108-23)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Alfred Hitchcock’s scripts were often driven by a vision of what the audio and visual effects would be, and this starting premise is very perceivable in Shadow of a Doubt. From the very beginning, the plot of the film is linked to visual images of dancing and audio elements of the Waltz from Franz Lehár’s The Merry Widow, although the two do not synchronize and the phrasing becomes distorted. The waltz appears in many guises throughout the film: both as diegetic and nondiegetic music, as well as the textual connection to Uncle Charlie named as the “Merry Widow Murderer.” However, Lehár’s music in the nondiegetic space has been distorted to the point where one could no longer dance to it, resulting in an effect similar to and probably inspired by Ravel’s La Valse that influences the film’s form and structure. The two-part form of Ravel’s piece, in which discordant passages gradually overtake the waltz tune, impacts the film’s form, where everyday, innocent life in a typical American town is gradually darkened and disrupted by a murderer’s presence. Both the diegetic and nondiegetic instances of Merry Widow waltz emphasize this distortion and appear at key points in the narrative, such as young Charlie discovering the identity of her uncle and his death at the end of the film.

Works: Alfred Hitchcock (director): Shadow of a Doubt (101-127), Suspicion (105, 107).

Sources: Franz Lehár: Waltz from The Merry Widow (103-27); Johann Strauss II: Wiener Blut (105); Ravel: La Valse (106-111, 113, 118-19).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Emily Baumgart

Recent film sound tracks that consist of previously recorded material are used with the assumption that the audience will recognize the style, if not the specific artist or song. The use of such music affects the feeling of youthful nostalgia in the nostalgia film genre. For example, in American Graffiti, music is the most important element of the production of nostalgia, even though it gives an idealized picture of music from the 1950s. American Graffiti also established a new model in which popular music is used without a clear differentiation between diegetic and non-diegetic music.

Works: Works: Mike Nichols (director): Sound track to The Graduate (37-38); Dennis Hopper (director): Sound track to Easy Rider (38-39); George Lucas (director): Sound track to American Graffiti (39-42); Lawrence Kasdan (director): Sound track to The Big Chill (43-44); Emile Ardolino (director): Sound track to Dirty Dancing (45-48); John Sayles (director): Sound track to Baby, It's You (48-49).

Sources: Sources: Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel: Sounds of Silence (37), April Come She Will (37-38), Scarborough Fair/Canticle (37-38); Dennis Edmonton [Mars Bonfire] (songwriter), Steppenwolf (performers): Born to be Wild (38); Hoyt Axton (songwriter), Steppenwolf (performers): The Pusher (38); Chuck Berry: Johnny B. Goode (41); Brian Wilson and Mike Love (songwriters), The Beach Boys (performers): Surfin' Surfari [Surfin' Safari] (41); Arthur Singer, John Medora, and David White: At the Hop (41); Max C. Freedman and James E. Myers [Jimmy De Knight] (songwriters), Bill Haley and the Comets (performers): Rock around the Clock (42); Hoyt Axton (songwriter), Three Dog Night (performers): Joy to the World (43); Brian Wilson and Tony Asher (songwriters), The Beach Boys (performers): Wouldn't It Be Nice? (43); Mick Jagger and Keith Richards (songwriters), The Rolling Stones (performers): You Can't Always Get What You Want (43); Phil Spector, Jeff Barry, and Ellie Greenwich (songwriters), The Ronettes (performers): Be My Baby (45); Bob Crewe and Bob Gaudio (songwriters), The Four Seasons (performers): Big Girls Don't Cry (45); Berry Gordy, Jr. (songwriter), The Contours (performers): Do You Love Me? (45); Maurice Williams (songwriter), Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs (performers): Stay (45); Otis Redding: These Arms of Mine (45), Love Man (45); Gerry Goffin and Carole King (songwriters), The Shirelles (performers): Will You Love Me Tomorrow? (47); Al Kooper: (I Heard Her Say) Wake Me, Shake Me (49); Lou Reed (songwriter), The Velvet Underground (performers): Venus in Furs (49).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Modern films often use popular songs to generate comic allusions or puns that rely on audience connections to either lyrics or pop culture references. Musical irony’s cinematic history began with “film funners,” took on a less comic tone in Classical Hollywood, and regained its humorous function in New Hollywood. American Graffiti (1973) was influential on Hollywood’s use of popular music for its innovative deployment of popular songs. After American Graffiti, there was a strong economic impetus to use popular music in movies, but this does not reflect how the music is actually used. Musical puns have three primary relationships to comedy: narrative function, the relevant perceptions audiences might have of the music, and bisociative qualities.

Works: Jerry Bruckheimer (director): soundtrack to Con Air (407); George Lucas (director): soundtrack to American Graffiti (410-11, 423); Lawrence Kasdan (director): soundtrack to The Big Chill (417-20); Renny Harlin (director): soundtrack to The Long Kiss Goodnight (419-20); Lana Wachowski (director): soundtrack to Bound (420); Arlene Sanford (director): soundtrack to A Very Brady Sequel (421-22); David Mirkin (director): soundtrack to Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion (421-22); Wes Craven (director): soundtrack to Scream (422); Joel Coen and Ethan Coen (directors): soundtrack to The Big Lebowski (423-24); Paul Thomas Anderson (director): soundtrack to Boogie Nights (423-27).

Sources: Lynyrd Skynyrd: Sweet Home Alabama (407); Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong (songwriters) and Marvin Gaye (performer): I Heard it Through the Grapevine (417-19); The Zombies (songwriters) and Santana (performer): She’s Not There (420); Ronnie Shannon (songwriter) and Aretha Franklin (performer): I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love You) (420); Homer Banks, Carl Hampton, and Raymond Jackson (songwriters) and Luther Vandross (performer): If Loving You is Wrong (421-22); Blue Öyster Cult: Don’t Fear the Reaper (422); Creedence Clearwater Revival: Lookin’ Out My Back Door (423-24); Gene McDaniels (songwriter) and Roberta Flack (performer): Compared to What (424); Melanie: Brand New Key (425-26); Hot Chocolate: You Sexy Thing (426); Jeff Lynne (songwriter) and ELO (performers): Livin’ Thing (426-27); Randy Newman (songwriter) and Three Dog Night (performers): Mama Told Me Not to Come (427).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

The music of Stephen Foster was frequently used in scores for Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies cartoons produced from the 1930s through the 1960s—especially those by Carl Stalling—to represent the American South and African Americans, revealing pervasive attitudes about race and place in American culture. The convention of using Stephen Foster songs to represent “Negro,” “Southern,” and generic “American” categories was developed in the silent film era and codified by Erno Rapée’s 1924 guidebook, Motion Picture Moods for Pianists and Organists. Carl Stalling, who arranged and supervised Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies scores for Warner Bros. starting in 1936, adopted this convention for its pervasiveness in silent films and because Foster’s music was in the public domain. Three Looney Tunes cartoons in particular, Confederate Honey, Mississippi Hare, and Southern Fried Rabbit, use various Foster songs in conjunction with representations of both the American South and of minstrel tropes. For example, Confederate Honey (a 1940 parody of Gone with the Wind) opens with Foster’s My Old Kentucky Home and Old Black Joe played over scenes of a plantation with slaves depicted with exaggerated features in the manner of minstrel shows and Sambo illustrations. Beautiful Dreamer later serves as a leitmotive for Crimson O’Hairoil, the daughter of the plantation owner and heroine of the cartoon. Despite their ubiquity, the use of Foster songs in Looney Tunes significantly decreased in the 1960s with the retirement of Carl Stalling and changing attitudes toward race representation. The legacy of these representations of race in Looney Tunes and other classic cartoons, especially those that depict racist imagery and caricature, has been debated for decades. Like Foster’s songs themselves, the cultural signifiers and meanings attached to Looney Tunes are unfixed and malleable.

Works: Carl Stalling: score to Confederate Honey (357-60), score to Mississippi Hare (360-61), score to Southern Fried Rabbit (362-364)

Sources: Stephen Foster: My Old Kentucky Home (358), Old Black Joe (358, 362), Beautiful Dreamer (358, 360), Oh! Susanna (358), Old Folks at Home (360, 362), Camptown Races (360-61), Ring, Ring de Banjo! (361); Dan Emmett: Dixie (358, 360-61, 362); Franz von Suppé: Light Cavalry Overture (358); Traditional: Yankee Doodle (364)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Michael Kamen’s score to Die Hard is both an integral part of the complete text and an interpretation of the film. The score focuses on the character of Hans Gruber rather than the hero John McClane, and Kamen’s choices aid in the characterization of Gruber as a sophisticated anti-hero rather than a villain. In a particularly illuminating scene, Kamen further musically distinguishes Gruber from McClane by scoring a speech as a recitative and aria, and the music is sensitive to Alan Rickman’s delivery. Kamen communicates cultural information and further elevates Gruber by the extensive use of borrowed music. Whereas McClane has no musical theme, Kamen assigns quotations and manipulations of the Ode to Joy from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony to Gruber. The choice of Beethoven was a suggestion from the film’s director, John McTiernan, influenced by Wendy (formerly Walter) Carlos’s score for A Clockwork Orange. Kamen’s uses of Beethoven (and Singin’ in the Rain, also used in A Clockwork Orange) are dramatically and musically distinct from the earlier film. Whereas in A Clockwork Orange the borrowings are largely quotations that frame the violent and transgressive onscreen acts, Kamen’s score manipulates the borrowed melodies as themes appropriate to the dramatic action and cultural suggestions of the film.

Works: John McTiernan (director) and Michael Kamen (composer): score to Die Hard (552, 561-72, 575-80); Stanley Kubrick (director) and Wendy (Walter) Carlos (composer): score to A Clockwork Orange (568-72).

Sources: James Lord Pierpont: Jingle Bells (561-62); Felix Bernard and Dick Smith: Winter Wonderland (561, 563); Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne: Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! (561); Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown: Singin’ in the Rain (561-63, 568-71); Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125 (563-71).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Kate Altizer

A recurrent theme in coming-of-age films starring female protagonists is that of feminine interaction with records. The record collector has usually been associated with a masculine stereotype, but in films depicting feminine interactions with records, the inscribed voice of the record expresses the girl's character. A scene depicting a transformational rite in Heavenly Creatures features music that slips between diegetic use of Mario Lanza's Donkey Serenade, the girls' own singing of the song, and a non-diegetic newly composed orchestral version. In The Virgin Suicides, songs from records, while non-diegetic, organize the relationship of a young couple. The record and its music function as a ritual object in the narrative as the girl experiences a coming-of-age transformation.

Works: Terry Zwigoff (director): Sound track to Ghost World (152-53, 158-59); Mark Herman (director): Sound track to Little Voice (159-60); Peter Jackson (director): Sound track to Heavenly Creatures (160-63); Sofia Coppola (director): Sound track to The Virgin Suicides (163-66).

Sources: Skip James: Devil Got My Woman (152); Sammy Cahn and Nicholas Brodszky (songwriters), Mario Lanza (performer): Be My Love (161); Rudolf Friml and Herbert Stothart (composers), Robert Wright and George "Chet" Forrest (lyrics), Mario Lanza (performer): Donkey Serenade (161-62); Ann Wilson and Nancy Wilson (songwriters), Heart (performers): Magic Man (164-65), Crazy On You (165).

Index Classifications: 1900s, 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

In his score for The Lion King (1994), Hans Zimmer fully integrates the Dies irae melody, giving it structural importance to the film’s narrative and circle-of-life theme. By doing so, Zimmer reclaims some of the spiritual cachet of the melody against simplistic uses of the melody in other film scores. As quotations of Dies irae became popular in nineteenth- and twentieth-century concert music, the chant began to lose its sacred and medieval associations in favor of secular connotations of death. This trend continued as film composers, including Hans Zimmer, used the Dies irae motif in a similar manner, leading to a simplistic association between the motif and death, menace, or creepiness. Zimmer’s use of Dies irae in The Lion King is distinctive in its pervasive and varied use throughout the score as well as its impact on the film’s spiritual symbolism. There are two scenes in which the obvious Dies irae death motif is evoked: first when Scar orders the hyenas to kill young Simba after the stampede, and second during the climax when adult Simba fights Scar to reclaim the throne. Of greater importance however are the approximately forty separate occurrences of the exact or modified chant melody that occur throughout the score. Of the seven principal themes, three contain the Dies irae motif in some form. These three themes are related to Mufasa, his spiritual presence after his death, and his seat of power at Pride Rock. Significantly, the Dies irae motif in these themes is heard well before Mufasa’s death in scenes setting up Simba’s relationship with his father and the burden of power. Zimmer also borrows Mozart’s Eucharistic hymn Ave verum corpus, K. 618, in three pivotal scenes related to Mufasa’s death and Simba’s painful memory of it, further supporting the religiosity of the film’s themes and imagery. Thus, Zimmer’s use of Dies irae in The Lion King functions as part of the spiritual aspects of the film, transcending the chant’s common secular associations.

Works: Hans Zimmer: score to The Lion King (38, 46-56), score to Crimson Tide (45), score to The Rock (45-46), score to The Road to El Dorado (45), score to The Ring (46), score to The Da Vinci Code (46); Berlioz: Symphonie fantastique (40); Liszt: Totentanz (40); Rachmaninoff: Isle of the Dead (40-41); Wendy Carlos and Rachel Elkind: score to The Shining (42); Danny Elfman: score to The Nightmare Before Christmas (42); Bernard Herrmann: score to Citizen Kane (42); Dimitri Tiomkin: score to It’s A Wonderful Life (42); John Williams: score to Star Wars (42)

Sources: attributed to Thomas of Celano: Dies irae (38-55); Mozart: Ave verum corpus, K. 618 (54-56)

Index Classifications: 1800s, 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

The complexity of musical meaning in Moulin Rouge demands detailed analysis and a better understanding of how director Baz Luhrmann uses music both literally and figuratively, in order to provide a more well-rounded assessment of the film and its relationship to postmodernism and the Hollywood musical. Luhrmann borrows the complete melody and lyrics of The Sound of Music, but re-orchestrates the accompaniment. In doing so, he relies on listeners’ recognition of this familiar tune to portray Christian as a creative talent. Smells Like Teen Spirit constitutes one of the most daring quotations throughout the entire film. Luhrmann keeps the melody and lyrics intact but endows the quotation with a new contextual meaning, effectively creating a mocking contradiction and parodic simplification of the original’s more complex meaning. Luhrmann’s borrowing of Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend is specially tailored for the leading lady, Satine, and invites comparison to Lorelei Lee in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Both Satine and Lorelei are beautiful entertainers who depend on their beauty and sexuality to manipulate men, but Satine aspires to be a true actress instead of a prostitute-like figure, so Luhrmann turns the original show-within-a-show production to an entire production based on Satine’s number. Other modifications include changing the original lyrics and singing them more slowly and intentionally than Lorelei’s version. Luhrmann’s borrowing of Elton John’s Your Song once again defines Christian as a man with creative musical talents, as he successfully wins the heart of Satine when he began setting the lyrics to music. It also represents a communicative channel for Christian as he is able to express his thoughts and emotions more clearly using music. Luhrmann’s exaggerated staging of Like a Virgin offers comic relief, and Christian’s musical genius is contrasted with the lack of singing lines on the Duke’s part.

Works: Baz Luhrmann: Moulin Rouge (31-37).

Sources: Rodgers and Hammerstein: The Sound of Music (32-33); Kurt Cobain: Smells Like Teen Spirit (33-34); Jule Styne and Leo Robin: Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend (34-35); Elton John: Your Song (35); Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly: Like a Virgin (35-36); Gordon Matthew Sumner: El Tango de Roxanne (36-37).

Index Classifications: 2000s, Film

Contributed by: Jingyi Zhang

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Timber is a pop video made up of audio samples and video clips from a soundtrack to a Greenpeace film on the destruction of the rainforest. Four affective elements are involved in this type of music: sounds/timbres, music (the manipulation and organization of timbres), images showing the source of the timbres, and the rhythm of image editing. Audio samples include a chainsaw, a chattering monkey, and a singing human voice. The images of nature and sounds of industry that are used in the video are treated as musical elements. For example, musically, the sample of the chainsaw functions like an electric guitar riff. The dichotomy involved in Timber commenting on destructive machines yet being made possible by samplers (machines) makes the piece intriguing.

Works: Coldcut and Hexstatic: Timber.

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Karen Anton Stafford

Hugo Riesenfeld’s compiled score for The Covered Wagon (directed by James Cruze, 1923) influenced the music design of silent and sound era westerns to come, drawing inspiration from the vast landscapes and historic context of the frontier. The Covered Wagon was instrumental in shifting the focus of westerns from individual characters to epic tales of American progress and Manifest Destiny. Riesenfeld’s score adds to the grandeur of the film, particularly in how it presents the landscape. To underscore the film’s representation of Native Americans as a constant threat to the settlers, Riesenfeld uses several stereotypical music cues. He does not distinguish between hostile and friendly Native Americans and uses the same cues in both circumstances, a practice upheld by subsequent silent westerns. To represent the settlers, Riesenfeld uses Stephen Foster’s Oh! Susanna, a song historically linked with westward expansion. In an early example of direct cueing, the settlers themselves frequently sing and play Oh! Susanna on screen. To accompany the film’s love narrative, Riesenfeld adapts another popular song from the frontier era: George Linley’s I’ve Left the Snow-Clad Hills. In selecting classical and classical-sounding cues for other scenes, Riesenfeld’s approach was to help advance the plot and interpret character motivations while not overpowering the visuals with the music. For a shorter cut of The Covered Wagon, James C. Bradford produced a cue sheet based on Riesenfeld’s compiled score but comparatively less nuanced in setting the love narrative. The lasting impact of The Covered Wagon on the prestige western genre is due in part to Riesenfeld’s compiled score, which complements the epic presentation of the film with an important step toward modern thematically integrated soundtracks.

Works: Hugo Riesenfeld: score to The Covered Wagon (78-90); James C. Bradford: cue sheet for The Covered Wagon (90-98)

Sources: Erno Rapée and William Axt: Indian Orgy (78-79), Misterioso (87-88); Charles Sanford Skilton: War Dance (79); Charles K. Herbert: Indian War Dance (79-80), Indian Lament (79-80); Francis Smith (lyrics): America (My Country ’Tis of Thee) (80); Traditional: The Girl I Left Behind Me (80); Stephen Foster: Oh! Susanna (80-81); George Linley: I’ve Left the Snow-Clad Hills (82-86); Sergei Rachmaninoff: Prelude in G Minor, Op. 23, No. 5 (87)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Despite many claims in the literature that George Gershwin’s Second Rhapsody (premiered 1932) is an expansion of material composed for the 1931 film Delicious, the reverse is in fact true. The orchestral music in Delicious is a truncated version of the existing Second Rhapsody most probably made by studio employee Hugo Friedhofer. This misconception began with early newspaper reviews of the Rhapsody and with early Gershwin biographer Isaac Goldberg, whose chronological error was repeated and warped by later scholars. Given evidence from Gershwin’s sketches and production papers from Delicious, it is apparent that Gershwin’s Second Rhapsody was essentially complete before the Delicious shooting script called for the “Manhattan Rhapsody” sequence, later changed to the “New York Rhapsody” sequence, that featured it. In the film, the main Rhapsody themes are presented diegetically before the nondiegetic orchestral score begins. Additionally, the “New York Rhapsody” sequence imposes a narrative program on the Second Rhapsody in which each theme is tied to an aspect of the film’s story. The main cuts to the Rhapsody involve what Gershwin called the “Brahms theme” and transition material, reducing the approximately fifteen-minute concert piece to six minutes and fifty-six seconds of screen time. Despite being comparable to his famous Rhapsody in Blue and An American in Paris, Gershwin’s Second Rhapsody faced a less-sympathetic reception, in part due to the false notion that it was recycled from a Hollywood film score.

Works: George Gershwin (composer), Hugo Friedhofer (arranger): score to Delicious (155-73)

Sources: George Gershwin: Second Rhapsody (155-73)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Bernard Hermann’s score to the 1944 CBS radio broadcast Moat Farm Murder was later reused in eleven episodes of The Twilight Zone. This appropriation of a radio score for a new television soundtrack is a case study in how music editors and supervisors created new layers of meaning with network cue libraries in the 1960s. CBS established its Stock Music Library in 1956, allowing its back catalogue of radio and television scores to be reused in future productions. Newly composed scores were also mandated by the CBS musicians’ union, leading to a mix of episodes containing wholly new music, partially new and partially stock, and wholly stock music. Hermann’s score to the Moat Farm Murder radio broadcast is broken into fourteen distinct cues. Each cue was used in at least one episode of The Twilight Zone and several cues are used in multiple episodes. Cue 5, which uses descending chromatic lines to signify danger, appears in seven different episodes of The Twilight Zone in a large section or reduced to a short stinger to punctuate a shocking moment on screen. Cue 9, which features descending chromatic lines with a distinctive nasal timbre, is used in four episodes of The Twilight Zone, often during flashback scenes. In their use of music libraries to create television soundtracks, music directors and editors across different programs and studios acted as hidden authors, shaping the emotion of programs in ways the drama by itself could not.

Works: Robert Drasnin (music editor): soundtrack to The Twilight Zone (164-67, 172-182).

Sources: Bernard Hermann: score to Moat Farm Murder (164-67, 172-182).

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet

Despite his public denial of the practice, Bernard Herrmann frequently practiced self-borrowing in his radio, television, film, and concert music by both reproducing earlier works virtually intact and reworking the instrumentation, pitch, or notation of earlier material. Herrmann’s early work on radio plays for several CBS programs provided an important source for later self-borrowing. Herrmann’s score to Jason and the Argonauts (1968) includes at least five cues borrowed or reworked from radio scores and other film scores. One of these sources, the symphonic poem City of Brass (featured in a 1938 Columbia Workshop radio presentation), was borrowed from in several other film scores as well, including the score to The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad (1958). Herrmann’s opera, Wuthering Heights, borrows from several of his film scores as well, most notably from The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947) and Jane Eyre (1944). Herrmann also adapted material from his concert music into his film scores; for example, “The Office” cue from Psycho is adapted from his Sinfonietta for Strings. Throughout his entire career, Herrmann steadily practiced self-borrowing.

Works: Bernard Herrmann: Wuthering Heights (249-50, 256-7), score to Discoverie (250-53), score to Hangover Square (251), score to Jason and The Argonauts (251-55), score to The Kentuckian (252-54), score to The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad (254-57), score to Mysterious Island (255), score to Tender Is the Night (257-58), score to North by Northwest (258), score to Journey to the Center of the Earth (258), score to Psycho (258), score to Battle of Neretva (258-59), score to The Trouble With Harry (258), A Portrait of Hitch (258), Western Saga (258, 260), score to The Alfred Hitchcock Hour (259)

Sources: Bernard Herrmann: score to The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (249-50, 256-58), score to Jane Eyre (250, 256), score to The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (250-53), Nocturne and Scherzo (251), score to Beneath the Twelve Mile Reef (251-52), City of Brass (252-53), score to The Shropshire Lad (252-54), score to The Kentuckian (254-55), score to Five Fingers (255-57), score to Mysterious Island (255), score to The Triangle on the Round Table (255), score to The Magnificent Ambersons (257), score to On Dangerous Ground (258), Sinfonietta for Strings (258), Clarinet Quintet (258), score to James Evans, Fireman: How He Extinguished a Human Torch (258), score to Coyle and Richardson: Why They Hung in a Spanking Breeze (258), score to Fahrenheit 451 (258-59), score to Blue Denim (259)

Index Classifications: 1900s, Film

Contributed by: Matthew Van Vleet