islanded in a stream of stars

Bernard Herrmann's Vertigo score is like romanticism and minimalism attempting to have a threesome love child with the Cuban habanera.

I've been on a Vertigo binge for the last few days, playing it over on end for some reason known only to the cosmos, and the more I listen to Vertigo the more I'm convinced that Herrmann is probably the last romantic film composer of the late 20th century. Not that John Barry's Out of Africa and other works and John Williams don't capture a lush epic feel, but they are decidedly more modern in their approach when it comes to orchestrations. With modern film music, there isn't as much pressure to borrow thematic material from classical and Romantic works unless it's for a period film. And even period films with mostly original scores tend to be rather anachronistic in their approaches; George Fenton's Dangerous Beauty is a prime example. The string minuets sound highly out of place for 12th century Venice when surely the orchestras wouldn't have at least twenty people in attendance.

The Romantic homages are highly apparent from the first listens. Herrmann borrows heavily from Wagner's Tristan und Isolde, particularly in his obsessive usage of the leitmotif and the usage of the Tristan chord during key scenes. It wouldn't be the first time he references Romanticism; Herrmann borrows elements from Ravel's Bolero (why do I always compare everything to Bolero?) and Borodin's Polovitsan Dances (sp?) from Prince Igor for his work on North by Northwest for example. I'm not sure how to explain this, but the odd repetition of having the stress held on a measure long first note followed by a waltzy triplet as the love theme rises up the scale (as in "Scene d'Amour") just screams Romantic "unrequited longing." In many respects you can see Vertigo as a programmatic symphony divided into three acts: Scottie meets Madeleine, Scottie finds and shapes Judy as Madeleine, Scottie's post-transformation realization. Recurring themes (the "vertigo" effect, Madeleine, love, Carlotta) are interwoven throughout all three movements, but there's a very precise employment and development of each as the story progresses. When Scottie first spots Judy, the love theme thankfully doesn't cue in right away. We hear elements of Madeleine's theme but it isn't fully developed-the audience wonders if this is really Madeleine, rather than "Scottie wants to have another passionate love affair." When certain movements or segments of movements end in a major cord ("the Beach," "Farewell and the Tower," "Scene d'Amour"), they aurally cue in the development of the characters and their relationships. The undulating chromaticisms of the Prelude already foreshadows that Scottie's relationship with Madeleine/Judy isn't meant to be, and that Scottie's vertigo has much deeper metaphorical implications than it first appears.

Ugh, I'll finish this later when I get more sleep and have more time to ramble about my monothematic obsessions. It's only a rough outline of the beginning. I can't wait until I can take music history so I actually know what I'm talking about.