Reel 1
Short Subjects

(Glossary, Trivia, Scoreboard)

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Sc. 1 Introduction to Short Subjects

A new and somewhat rickety desktop publishing enterprise, Moviesound Newsletter was launched when the editor and publisher, along with correspondents on the team, hand-carried folded copies to their friends and colleagues around Los Angeles post-production businesses. Explanations about the project were hastily spoken when time at work would allow, and copies were left for anyone to read. MSNL then took out several inexpensive classified ads in a few periodicals, and the team hoped that a few die-hard movie sound fans might subscribe, while they forged a second and third issue and got around to mailing more copies to potential readers. The debut issue, as orientation, bore a statement of purpose, Welcome to It. The team was concerned that professionals might superficially dismiss MSNL as a fanzine, and that laypeople might take it as some kind of esoteric technical journal. That was the conundrum: A true fanzine would be too hot. A techie paper was going to be boring… too cold. A real Goldilocks solution would have MSNL discussing the art of movie sound (without pretentious airs, it was hoped) in the context of business and technology. Ament’s unvarying counsel, “Write it so your mother could understand it!” called for a piece explaining post-production sound to the layman. That was planned for issue #1, but the four pages had filled up quickly with other material. So What is Post production Sound? ran in issue #2. The first part of Welcome to It is reprinted here, as an introduction to Hollywood Sound Design and Moviesound Newsletter’s Reel One1

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Logo: Moviesound Newsletter (1989)

Traditionally, before theatrical TV commercials, movie audiences enjoyed “short subjects” before a feature; they may have been some combination of one-reel comedies, cartoons, newsreels, and trailers. Reel One comprises its own brand of short subjects: a lightweight glossary, some notes about sonically inclined movie trivia, and some short pieces about film music. Hollywood Sound Design and Moviesound Newsletter has arranged these few short subjects at the start, hopeful that the reader may settle in to a comfortable seat and read, perhaps while enjoying some popcorn.

Sc. 2 Welcome to It

Welcome to It Published in March, 1989 (Vol I #1)

Welcome to It

Welcome to MovieSound Newsletter, a hub of information for movie fans who enjoy the state of the art film soundtracks, both in major theaters and at home. You’re going to read a lot about the making of soundtracks, and the experience of listening to them, written by sound pros who care about craft! We’ll talk about traditional and new-wave methods of making the flickers talk, from Vitaphone disc to the laser disc. You’ll be well informed about all the elements affecting movie and stereo TV tracks, ranging from the best-laid plans to bottom-line realities. In upcoming issues, we’ll talk about each of the myriad technical skills that work together to make today’s complex stereo soundtracks such a high-energy part of the movie experience.

Students and film fans want to be well informed about the techniques of sound designing and editing, mixing, recording dialogue, even replacing unwanted sounds. But even casual filmgoers have a right to expect first-rate sound for our $5-$7 at the box office.

Sc. 3 Bits of Glossary

MSNL ran a few short pieces explaining the most commonly used terms of art from the argot of sound editors, mixers, and audio engineers as they related to our subjects of interest. The hope was to liberate our correspondents from worrying too much about alienating newcomers to the appreciation of movie sound, so they might write in a conversational style. Consequently, new readers could be empowered to speak a little more fluently with the native post-production patois. These ran as MSNL Pocket Dictionary 1, published in May, 1989 (Vol I #4); MSNL Pocket Dictionary 2, published in March, 1990 (Vol I #10); and MSNL Pocket Dictionary 3, published in October/November, 1991 (Vol I #20). They are compiled here in chart form, along with the copy that accompanied them:

All Techied-Out?

In case you’re new to Moviesound Newsletter with this issue, we’d like to help you understand some of the technical argot our correspondents sometimes slip into… Since we are sound pros writing for the enjoyment of sound track fans, we don’t want to leave you behind. Here’s the MSNL Pocket Dictionary.

  • FX: Sound effects recorded, edited, and mixed for a movie
  • FX: Sound effects recorded, edited, and mixed for a movie BG: Editors’ shorthand term for background-level and environmental (ambient) sound effects
  • Production or Production Dialogue or DIA: That dialogue recorded during original filming
  • ADR: (Automated Dialogue Replacement) Studio replacement and augmentation of production dialogue with studio-recorded lines, performed by actors in post-production
  • LOOPS, LOOPING: Older term for ADR. Editors used to run tracks for each replacement line, cut into endless loops, which made repeated takes possible
  • GROUP ADR: Actors recording voices to enhance crowd scenes, or to add lines for extras
  • FOLEY: (as a verb) Replacement of production movements of props and actors by studio performance
  • FOLEY: (as a noun) Custom sound FX performed in a specialized studio before a projected image. More subtly, to replace and augment the movements and footsteps of actors and animals by reproducing the rhythms, texture, and feelings of their performance
  • PREMIXING, or PREDUBBING: The re-recording of many edited soundtracks down to a manageably smaller group
  • MIXING: The recording of production or post-production dialogue or sounds
  • RE-RECORDING: The premixing and final mixing of edited tracks, whether music, FX, dialogue, ADR, or Foley
  • DOLBY: (1) Dr. Ray Dolby’s various licensed noise-reduction processes for the recording industry
  • DOLBY: (2) Dolby’s licensed process for encoding four separate tracks of information (relating to theater speakers placed left, center, right, and surround) into just two tracks that may be reproduced by a theater projector’s optical reader, or by video tape or disc, or broadcast as television audio
  • CDS.… Optical Radiation Corp’s licensed optical-digital film reproduction system, now heard on both 35- and 70mm prints
  • SR-D.… Dolby’s newly-demonstrated optical sound printing system which combines a digital track similar to CDS, with their own SR-type analog track as a backup

As critically important as re-recording mixers have always been to the making of sound movies, it seems there was room for one more vocabulary lesson to MSNL readers.

Re-Respect! Published in May, 1989 (Vol I #4)

Re-Respect!

What’s a “Re-recording mixer?” That’s an awkward, if appropriate term, since modern tracks go through so many stages from shooting to predubs to final mix. They are the folks who mix the tracks of FX, music, and dialogue into the total blend we know as a soundtrack. The industry refers to craftspeople who record live sound as “mixers,” or “recording mixers” without the extra “re-”. Though you’ll read it on all modern credits, it ain’t so easy to pronounce “Re-recording mixer” aloud. (Don’t try this at home, boys and girls!) Dateline-Skywalker Ranch, Lucasfilm: Gag sign found on an office door “Tom Johnson, Re/Recording… Gary Rydstrom, Re/Re/Recording”.

Sc. 4 Trims and Trivia

Steve Lee is a veteran Hollywood sound editor, sound effects librarian, and film historian specializing in sound effects. In 2016 he still runs the long-lived nonprofit website Hollywoodlostandfound.net, which he founded to provide readers with interesting and amusing entertainment history. Besides dealing with sound effects, the site features fantasy film props and movie location lore. He is the son of Walt Lee, author of the Reference Guide to Fantastic Films,2 which received a special award from the 33rd World Science Fiction Convention in 1975.

Steve Lee’s Trim Bin Published in December, 1989 (Vol I #8)

Steve Lee’s Trim Bin

For the screeching sound of a TIE fighter’s pass-by in all the Star Wars films, designer Ben Burtt started out with a distinctive elephant scream, to which he added other organic sound elements. If you thought it was an electronic sound, you were mistaken.

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Those wonderful gurgle glug gurgle sounds for the test tube apparatus invented by Alec Guinness in The Man in the White Suit (1951) were created by sound editor Mary Habberfield. For the drips, she took pieces of brass and glass and hit them against the palms of her hands. For the bubbles, she used a glass tube to blow air into a pan of glycerine. These and other effects were edited into a rhythmic, musical “loop” by trial and error. The amusing result is a sound signature that every viewer remembers. Though the visual props were not remarkable, the sounds gave the apparatus a kind of personification. It became a supporting character as memorable as Sir Alec’s.

Steve Lee’s Trim Bin Published in January, 1990 (Vol I #9)

From Steve Lee’s Trim Bin…

Did you know?

The door bell scream in Murder by Death was originally recorded for King Kong (1933), and is the voice of Fay Wray.

Steve Lee’s Trim Bin Published in March, 1990 (Vol I #10)

Steve Lee’s Trim Bin

In Walt Disney’s animated Alice in Wonderland (1951) the sound of a shimmering spider web (which Disney insisted should make a noise) was created by Jimmy Macdonald. An engineer and musician, Macdonald invented and built hundreds of Disney sound-props. The spider web was a set of wind chimes he made from pieces of scrap duraluminum.

Steve Lee’s Trim Bin Published in August, 1990 (Vol I #14)

Steve Lee’s Trim Bin

Moviesound Trivia

Did You Know?

Part of the sound of Chekov’s phaser malfunctioning in Star Trek IV—The Voyage Home was actually a hiccup, pulled from an old cartoon sound effects roll.

The voice of the fierce robot villain ED 209 in RoboCop was actually a processed version of the voice of Jon Davison, the film’s producer.

Both Walt Disney and sound man Jim Macdonald took turns performing the voice of Mickey Mouse, but who does it now? A talented sound editor named Wayne Allwine, who worked closely with Macdonald before his retirement. Tony Anselmo has taken over the role of Donald Duck from the late Charles “Ducky” Nash.

Steve Lee’s Trim Bin Published in October, 1990 (Vol I #15)

Steve Lee’s Trim Bin

Did You Know?

In The Empire Strikes Back, Han Solo hides his ship, the Millennium Falcon, in a mysterious cave on an asteroid, where it is assaulted by strange flying creatures called Mynocks. Ben Burtt used a sped-up horse whinny as an element of sound for the aliens. A similar effect can be heard when a large owl frightens Kate Capshaw in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

The “head-shake” noise usually heard after a character bashes their head in a Warner Bros. cartoon is informally referred to as the Trombone Gobble, and was first used as a sound effect by Treg Brown, probably in a Bob Clampett cartoon. Sound effects editor Mark Mangini has worked it into many of the films he’s worked on, including Joe Dante’s Innerspace, and both Gremlins I and II.

Steve Lee’s Trim Bin Published in Fall, 1992 (Vol II #3)

Steve Lee’s Trim Bin

More Sound Effects Trivia Droppings

It has been said that the heavy breathing that made Kier Dullea’s space walks in 2001: A Space Odyssey so dramatic, was done by director Stanley Kubrick himself. For the sequel, 2010, director Peter Hyams repeated the chore. Hyams performed for John Lithgow’s space walk, breathing into a ceramic coffee cup.

If the birds in Beauty and the Beast occasionally sound like the traditional sickly-sweet Disney song birds of long ago, it’s because they are. While “realistic” recordings of real forest birds were used as low-level backgrounds, the close-up and fly-by birdies were cut with old sound effect birds from the Disney library (probably recorded for Cinderella.) For the cutest animated birds, nothing can beat the sing-song quality of human whistling.

—SLEE

Sc. 5 Music Scoreboard

Richard Stone

Stone (1953–2001) was widely considered the modern-day successor to Carl Stalling, the legendary composer who wrote hundreds of musical scores for Warner Bros. theatrical cartoon shorts from the late 1930’s through the 1950’s.3 For Steven Spielberg’s popular Animaniacs, he helped to revive the Stalling tradition of using a full orchestra, synchronizing the music to characters’ movements and employing musical effects to convey the Warner brand of cartoon humor: witty without being cute. He even composed on the same studio Steinway piano and conducted on the same stage that Stalling used.4

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MSNL was happy to have Stone’s contributions for a few Scoreboard pieces. The author (DS) and publisher (VTA) wrote a few pieces as well. There might have been more from Rich Stone, but understandably his work on Tiny Toons and the new series Animaniacs was demanding all of his time.

Scoreboard: Turkeys Get New Gobble Published in March, 1989 (Vol I #1)

Scoreboard: Turkeys Get New Gobble

Ridley Scott’s 1985 Legend suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous studio marketing in more ways than one. As so often happens when the “suits” at the studio smell a flop, they started to monkey around with the score. Unfortunately, in their panic, they sometimes end up with a less effective score than what they had in the first place. Examples of this are too numerous to mention. Georges Delerue’s magnificent score for Something Wicked This Way Comes was dumped for James Horner’s. Lalo Schifrin’s clever Jinxed score was thrown out for Miles Goodman’s. The biggest tragedy is that the general public can never hear these rejected masterpieces. But, in the case of Legend, there is some hope. Although the geniuses at Fox decided to replace Jerry Goldsmith’s breathtaking orchestral score with repetitive synthesized drek from Tangerine Dream, they released the FOREIGN version with the Goldsmith score! Don’t ask why. The good news is that the Goldsmith score was briefly released on LP. (Filmtrax Records.) If you know a die-hard collector, it’s worth looking for.

—Rich

Richard Stone is a composer of film and television musical scores

Scoreboard: Good Evening Published in April, 1989 (Vol I #2)

Scoreboard: Good Evening

Reet! Reet! Reet! Reet! Flashes of curtain and knife. Blood-stained water racing down a shower drain. Bernard Herrmann’s chilling music for Hitchcock’s Psycho was as much a revelation in 1960 as it would be today. It has become as much a part of our language as the Deedle Deedle of The Twilight Zone. Why? First, Herrmann used only strings. No woodwinds. No brass. No percussion. Just strings. In a 1971 interview, he revealed that this ingenious strategy was to “complement the black and white photography… with a black and white sound.” But he used them in a way that was new to film music—by cleverly exploiting their cold and piercing qualities and by avoiding the traditional romantic Hollywood sound. Subtle filmic techniques also abet the cause. Celli slowly go up a scale against violins descending a scale as we watch Martin Balsam walk up the stairs. The almost keyless main theme is as unsettling as the Bates Motel itself. But, here’s the real shocker. That now-famous musical moment in the shower was an afterthought. Hitchcock originally told Herrmann to leave the stabbing scenes without music. Then, after seeing the finished film, the disappointed director ordered them to be scored. Good thinking, Hitch.

—Rich

Richard Stone is a composer of film and television musical scores

What are your favorite movie scores? Do you collect recordings of film music? Is music too loud in today’s films? Why do you think that is? Write and throw a few curves at Rich at the SCOREBOARD c/o MSNL.

Scoreboard: For Your Inflammation! Published in April, 1989 (Vol I #3)

Scoreboard: For Your Inflammation!

Ever wonder why there’s pop music in some movies that doesn’t match the style of the score or the film? Contemporary economics have spawned the “Music Supervisor,” who is neither composer nor editor, probably not even a musician! This person’s job seems to be to hammer rock ‘n’ roll records into soundtracks… Sometimes to wildly invent ways to justify songs being in scenes where they have no business… Have a character slip a cassette into the slot in a close-up. It’s worth MONEY! If a song becomes associated with a movie, then that scene can be shown in the video on MTV, thus giving free publicity to the movie. Just another way Modern Merchandising drives aesthetics away from film making. Now directors may have to fight to keep unwanted music out! On a recent project, a music supervisor had run out of places to impose a particularly screamy vocal. He found a scene with intimate dialogue in a pricey restaurant, where the director had wisely chosen to run some jazzy cocktail piano. It fit the restaurant, gave the scene some rhythm, and never intruded on the quiet dialogue. The pop vocal was tried with the scene, to the director’s horror. Records don’t go in that kind of restaurant, and you couldn’t hear any dialogue above the screaming. Even quiet vocals don’t work well with dialogue scenes!

Come on, Music Business: Leave our movies alone!

—DS

Scoreboard: ‘88 Keys Unnoticed Published in May, 1989 (Vol I #4)

Scoreboard: ‘88 Keys Unnoticed

As it has been since Creation, some of the year’s most heavily-hyped films, deserving or not, were nominated for Best Score Oscars®, while some of ‘88’s most innovative movie music went unnoticed. And Oscar® promotion has overshadowed films released since January that have already disappeared. Here are some of my faves of recent memory:

Danny Elfman’s Beetlejuice had faint echoes of vintage Warner Bros. cartoon music, catapulting us all further into the surreal depths of Tim Burton Land, John Barry gave us prurient, sensual strings in Masquerade, truly a great score in the Hollywood tradition. And Basil Poledouris contributed what many believe to be one of the best scores of his career to John Milius’ Farewell to the King. Still available on CD, it evokes the warmth and primitive innocence of tribal people, yet mixes engagingly with the militarism and epic violence of Milius’ obsession. Recorded in Budapest, the score uses a traditional orchestra combined with Balinese gongs, bells, and a pan flute. The film, dubbed in Dolby SR, sounds almost as good as the music by itself. And then there’s Zelly and Me. Has anyone seen this movie? I haven’t, and I don’t know anyone who’s even heard of it, but it’s one of my favorite film CD’s: An understated autumnal reverie from the pen of Pino Donaggio. Write in if you know anything about the film.5 We’re curious.

—Rich

Richard Stone is a composer of film and television musical scores

Scoreboard: Wall-to-Wall Music Published in July, 1989 (Vol I #5)

Scoreboard: Wall-to-Wall Music

Have you noticed lately how much music you hear during your favorite, (or maybe not so favorite) movies? More and more, it seems that film scores dominate the movie-going experience. For a quick comparison, listen how music is used in any classic film from the ‘Thirties or ‘Forties. Now listen to a contemporary film track. Quite a difference, eh? Well why is this happening?

In the “good old days”, music was used to underscore the action… to support it, if you will. The film composer would write for specific spots that needed emotional enhancement. Film music was sparse, but consequently more effective.

What we have today is a different story. While the composer may have the traditional method in mind, music may be grossly overused at the insistence of a director, producer, or even the composer himself. (Not to be sexist, but can you name a female film composer? That is another issue.) Too much music destroys any possibility of the score creeping in subliminally. A composer can also dominate the final mix, and force incredible levels of music, even in dialogue scenes. If the Powers That Be have no faith in their product, they tell themselves that the film will “sell” better with more and louder music.

We would like to know your opinions about music in films. Enough? Too much? Is minimalism your thing or what? Please write and let us know your views on this rather permeating aspect of movies.

—VTA

Scoreboard: You Are There Published in August, 1989 (Vol I #6)

Scoreboard: You Are There

The following dialogue, paraphrased from a story told to me by a big-name film editor, changed the course of film music for the rest of our lives. The year was 1976. The place, a cutting room in northern California. A science fiction adventure is being edited and it’s time to prepare some “temp” music (culled from scores of other films and mixed in for a test screening)

Editor: “So, what kind of music do you want?”
Director: “Well, it’s a space movie. Maybe something like Tomita.”
Editor: “Synthetic, huh?”
Director: “Yeah. Like some of that avant-garde music they used in 2001.”
Editor: “Hmm. You know, it might be kind of fun to go totally the other direction.”
Director: “What do you mean?”
Editor: “Errol Flynn heroism. A big orchestra. You know. Max Steiner. Korngold. Captain Blood. Charge of the Light Brigade.”
Director: “Isn’t that kind of old fashioned? The kids won’t buy it.”
Editor: “Look. Our film is old fashioned, too. Besides, the kids have probably never heard anything like that anyway. It’s so old it’ll be new.”
Director: “OK. Let’s see how it works.”
The rest, as they say, is history.

—Rich

Richard Stone is a composer of film and television musical scores

Scoreboard: Gobbige In, Gobbige Out Published in October, 1989 (Vol I #7)

Scoreboard: Gobbige In, Gobbige Out

Readers of American Film’s October issue saw Frank Spotnitz’s fine piece on sound designers, and MSNL readers recognized Mark Mangini from our two-parter on Star Trek IV and V.

Most sound people don’t know Mangini aside from his “Sound Effects By” credit on movies (Gremlins, Explorers, Three Men and a Baby, Trek IV and V, The ‘Burbs). But there is some crossover between the work of sound effects and music, and not a few sound people have other lives as musicians. The opening music in Steve Soderbergh’s phenomenal psychological hit sex, lies, and videotape is a folky, funky, 12-string guitar piece written and performed by Mangini.

Soderbergh heard him play it nearly a year before “sex, lies” went into post-production, and knew right away that it had the right feel for his opening scene. If you listen to Mangini’s guitar and Cliff Martinez’ brooding, ambient score on the CD album of sex, lies, and videotape you’ll probably notice a strange phenomenon particular to film composing: There is rarely any reason for a film composer to title tunes in the same way that a popular artist would.

In the normal course of recording for a movie, each musical cue might be referred to in a way that relates to a certain scene, but that has nothing to do with the emotional feel of the music. Music editors and mixers may be given an even more mundane set of numbered references, when the tapes are fresh from the scoring stage. A cue that reduces an audience to tears might have once been known as “M-64 Take 3 alternate”.

Soderbergh and Martinez called the cues by way of bits of action or dialogue that came near their placement in a scene. So, the titles of the score cues for “sex, lies” are things like Looks Like a Tablecloth, Take My Skirt Off, Sniff The Jacket, and I’m Gonna Drawl. Mangini’s peppy, “ramblin’” guitar piece ended up being called Garbage, because that’s the first line of dialogue!

Scoreboard: Aggregate Published in January, 1990 (Vol I #9)

Scoreboard: Aggregate

Theatrical cartoons traditionally had “a great deal of movement” covered by orchestrated instrumental effects. When Bugs Bunny tripped lightly up a staircase, Carl Stalling would likely have scored plucked strings in perfect footstep-sync.

A musically inspired experiment like Fantasia needed no sound effects. Many cartoon sound effects, as any Spike Jones6 fan understands, are made by percussionists’ props, and may be well-integrated into a score. So music can easily do the work of some sound effects.

Sometimes it’s not easy to pry apart a mixed soundtrack and determine where the music leaves off and the sound effects begin. An extreme example is the wonderful Louis and Bebe Barron score for Forbidden Planet, the first all-electronic music film score. The 1956 production used sounds made strictly by manipulating oscillators, reel-to-reel tape and other audio hardware, a full generation before synthesizers. While there is a world of innovative early electric music and Musique Concrète from that period, it never really found its way into the movies. Sound effects for some of the Star Trek-like props and weapons in Forbidden Planet sneak imperceptibly out of the electronic music and slither right back into it.

When film composers use the sounds of instruments from Third World cultures, they encourage audiences to think Globally. We’re hearing new sounds from handmade instruments played for thousands of years. (It’s trendy to call this stuff “World Music”, though we used to call it “Folk Music.”) Some of these sounds, like the Aboriginal didjery-doo, African thumb-pianos, and all kinds of drums and whistles are borderline sound effects, and will give tremendous color to a score. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that some of Hollywood’s sound effects innovators are musicians. Among Foley artists are musicians and dancers. Some of the best sound effects and dialogue mixers cut their professional teeth in the record industry. Working with film, they are tied to the mechanical needs of synchronization, but a sense of sound coloration and rhythm can bring great finesse to their tracks.

The Third Man, with all its great direction and cinematography, is remembered uniquely for its theme and score played on a zither, which gives a particularly Eastern European flavor. But the climax, a stylized, moody chase in the sewer has only sound effects in the track. The breathing and echoing footsteps of Orson Welles and Joseph Cotton; The roaring and drips of water, all sound effects. Orchestral score might have added tension, but would have been alarmingly inconsistent with the homey, wry touches that the zither had already established.

Next time: When it doesn’t work out.—DS

Scoreboard: Mix ‘n’ Don’t Match! Published in March, 1990 (Vol I #10)

Scoreboard: Mix ‘n’ Don’t Match!

Last time, we talked about the integration of sound effects and music via the ideal scoring of musical sound effects. The low-budget TV show or cartoon provides an example of the awkward highlighting of action with canned sound effects. In the case of a staccato action, like a character running up stairs, it’s likely that FX and music will clash. Someone will cut footsteps, or cartoon hits on a xylophone, but they won’t have anything to do with the rhythm or tonality of the music for that scene. No one has time to work it out, so the overall mix is less than pleasant to hear.

Scoreboard also mentioned the new interest in folk instruments of different cultures. As “World Music” becomes trendy (didn’t we used to call it folk music?), directors and rerecording mixers will be trying to evoke earthy, ethnic moods using some traditional folk instruments that may be primitive enough to resemble sound effects.

Unfortunately, movie sound effects and music can work at cross-purposes. A fluid, ambient stream of sound effects can be ruined by music cues with percussive or brassy sounds. Composers must often be frustrated by sound editors’ “noise” intruding upon their scores. Traditional underscoring could invoke mood in a nearly subliminal way, working on us without the obvious presence that a main title theme, a character theme, or a love theme might have.

Real problems arise when effects and music tracks, prepared by separate groups of people under different schedule constraints, finally come together for a movie mix. MSNL has previously written about how good dialogue scenes can be ruined by the vocals on pop records. Who can hear spoken words above singing?

Are modern directors musically uneducated? Or are they bowing to financial pressure from music-packaging dealmakers?

Often FX and music clash innocently enough, when for instance, a composer creates a low ominous tone to evoke mystery, and sound editors create a low ominous tone to give life to a science-fiction prop. Now the two sounds fight to be heard. Ideally, the composer and FX people will take opposite ends of the sound spectrum, complementing each other’s work. Under present working situations, this is usually problematic. But if all the elements come together gracefully, movies can sound better than ever!

—DS

Scoreboard: Postcards from the Edge Published in October, 1990 (Vol I #15)

Scoreboard: Postcards from the Edge

In some of our prior issues, we have been critical of the use, or as we may feel, misuse of music scoring in films. Well, now for some good news. For those of you who may have already seen Postcards from the Edge may have noticed a lack of film scoring. There are only a few key spots, (we counted four) where underscoring is used. The film is allowed to breathe with witty dialogue and superb acting. Apparently, director Mike Nichols understands the beauty of simplicity, and let the dialogue, production sound, and subtle post production sound (with the exception of a pearl necklace being all too attention-getting), carry the film aurally without too much music. Kudos to Mike Nichols and credited music composer Carly Simon for such delightful restraint.

—VTA

Sc. 6 Postscript for the Scoreboard

Twenty-six years after MSNL’s printing of the little For Your Inflammation piece, the formal work of music supervision has evolved a comfortable place for itself in the workflow of nearly all feature films. When record companies and movie studios were first merged under common corporate umbrellas in the 1980s and 1990s, their goal was always mutual promotion. Even though Hollywood has always associated movies with attached hit tunes, themes, and songs, the first era of 1980s music supervisors saw a lot of unconnected entertainment being handcuffed together in films, where the only connection between song and story was corporate ownership. Good movies could sometimes choke when force-fed a diet of irrelevant pop music. Given enough bad choices and the profit motive, any production might have songs stuffed into every open orifice in its soundtrack, including the invasive superimposition of song lyrics on top of spoken dialogue.

But the discography connected with a movie may be of a much more benign origin than that forced marriage of hit records and popular movies: A director/producer team, often with a film editor, might make a sincere effort to “score” the dramatic narrative of a story by applying existing music in a thoughtful or ironic way. Sometimes, (as in American Graffiti, for example, or in O, Brother, Where Art Thou?) the story relates inextricably to existing recordings, and those recordings might be antiquated and obscure, not at all faddish or popular. For instance, Woody Allen’s movies have been well served by his knowledge and taste in traditional and classic jazz; the recordings are either antique rarities or modern performance recreating period arrangements. In no case are they similar to the contemporary mainstream taste, but their consistent presence is part of Allen’s artistic brand.

Where a director takes great pains to apply existing records to the film in this way, the arc of a story may be enhanced by a narrative stream of music. That thread that runs parallel to the more mundane or textual streams of dialogue and effects. Music cues that are scored by a composer should be well integrated with these recordings. It is not a simple task, and directors never want to “pull the audience out of the picture,” with some awkward contrast between “songs” (records) and score (as in original composition). Music at this point lives in the realm of the music editor, whose underappreciated skill creates continuity between disparate musical elements, and between music and image, music and dialogue, or music and story itself. Like all good editing, those skills must be entirely self-effacing. Music editing work must follow the logistics of picture changes and developments throughout the re-recording period. Independently, music editing may even (though rarely) suggest its own picture changes, as the character of a music track begins to advance a movie’s unique artistic identity. This finessing and tinkering, more often than not, continues into the last hours of a Final dub’s Print-mastering.

By now, audiences understand that an album of movie music might include composed cues that never made the movie’s final cut, and they accept some unrelated songs on CDs or downloads of what can be re-sold cynically as “music from the film.” Everyone has heard a friend express astonishment that some song “was never even in the movie!” It probably was on the credits, however:

Most likely, legal clearance for all the acquired music would have been procured well in advance of the Final mix period, and accounted for in a budget. It would be a nightmare (a fool’s errand, at least) to attempt to get music cleared at the last minute, potentially holding up the film’s release. Independents and students may continue to make that mistake, but professionals will have learned better time management. Many modern film credit “crawls” show specific music and song attributions, including composer, performer, and mechanical rights notices, many times over the amount of music actually heard in the film. We have all seen this: Twenty-five or thirty songs completely credited, yet the audience only heard three or four, at least that they can remember. But where did those songs go? They were not heard subliminally, or mixed below the threshold of audibility. It is reasonable to speculate that they all were legally licensed to play, well before the legal and graphics teams created those credits. Scenes are cut, and other editorial changes will negate the placement of a song. Alternate placement may have been attempted to no avail, and finally a song or recording must be dropped completely. Film and music editing eliminated those choices, even if they had been worthy experiments. Most likely, the missing songs were paid for and will earn some royalties for the talent involved, whether or not there is a CD or download release of the music.

Music supervisors coordinate movies with the record business, and their proliferation since the 1980s has sold records, helped the entertainment industry to remain strong, and often enhanced a film artistically. But many films are better off entirely without prerecorded records.

Postscript on Spike Jones: Music with sound effects

Spike Jones is not to be confused with Spike Jonze (née Adam Spiegel) the director of Being John Malkovich (1999). This refers to the satirical bandleader of the 1940s and ‘50s. Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia, describes the work of Spike Jones and His City Slickers accurately: “Ballads and classical works receiving the Jones treatment would be punctuated with gunshots, whistles, cowbells, and outlandish vocals.” Of great interest to Hollywood Sound Design and Moviesound Newsletter readers is the fact that a large number of comical sound effects (both percussion and vocal) made their way from Spike Jones’ realm into the MGM cartoon sound library and subsequently migrated to the Hanna-Barbera’s. When William Hanna and Joseph Barbera left MGM Cartoons to set up their own company in the earliest days of television, they brought along several writers and animators, copies of MGM sound effects, and the film and sound editor Greg Watson. Earl Bennett, one of the band’s comic vocalists, worked as a sound editor at Hanna-Barbera through the first half of the 1970s. Joe Siracusa was a drummer in the band, and was an active music editor and music supervisor until the middle 1980s. When I was a rookie sound effects assistant at Hanna-Barbera in 1976, I asked one of the editors why a certain library sound effect was called “Ear’s Spluts.” Cartoon sound effects are apt to be named with wildly creative onomatopoeia (e.g., squidge, squinge, crabquacks) so I instinctively understood “spluts.” But why “Ear’s”? What did that mean? My mentor explained that the name had originally been “Earl’s Spluts” because Earl Bennett had contributed the FX, along with many others. A hurried assistant had probably left the “L” off the handwritten label, and every assistant after that had carefully copied the mistake. Thus is the folklore of naming comic sound effects.

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The animated Rich Stone conducting in Animaniacs. © Warner Bros. TV Animation

Notes

1. There was a second part of Welcome to It, about the concept “sound is half the movie,” which is reprinted in the introduction to Reel Eleven, the Letters section. What is Post-production Sound? is reprinted entirely in these pages as part of the introduction to Reel Four, the Articles section. Don’t ask me if this is going to be on the exam. There is no exam.

2. Lee, W. (1972). Reference Guide to Fantastic Films. Los Angeles: Chelsea Lee Books.

3. Stalling worked first for Disney, then Warners.

4. Now called the Eastwood Scoring Stage at Warner Bros.’ Burbank studio, it bears two memorial plaques: one honoring Stone for his work, and one for Shirley Walker (1945–2006), known for Batman: the Animated Series and other top-quality super-hero series produced by Warner Bros.’ TV Animation department.

5. The quick convenience of the IMDB was not available to my brother when he wrote this piece. It was born about a year later. I haven’t seen the film either, but the IMDB tells us that Zelly and Me was a 1988 Columbia Pictures release (apparently an independent production), shot partly in Virginia and mixed in New York. The writer/director was Tina Rathborne. The excellent cast includes Isabella Rossellini, Glynis Johns, and Joe Morton. There is also an acting role played by director David Lynch.

6. See the postscript on Spike Jones at the end of this section.

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