During the last two years of Filmbobbery‘s print run, I wrote reviews of instrumental movie soundtracks, culminating in a final article which summarized my favorites. Those eight reviews are included below, along with scans of the selected CD covers, front and back, that illustrate movie artwork and track listings of the titles discussed. The numbers which follow the titles are volume and issue numbers of the original articles.

Movie images and music have been intertwined since silent film days, when live piano and organ music accompanied the flickering films that audiences watched. Occasionally movie music is more special to me than the movies themselves; Roy Budd and John Scott seemed to specialize in terrific scores for films that were, well, not so terrific.  And of course a great score can make a great movie even greater.

It has been my intention to write about this music that means so much to me, in (hopefully) an eloquent, intelligent fashion.  Writing about music is much more difficult than about the movies themselves, I think.  I plan to continue this column, even if to only recommend cool CDs that arrive from the specialized companies that make them (Intrada, Varese Sarabande, La-La Land, Film Score Monthly, Kritzerland, GNP / Crescendo, Milan, Castle, etc.).  Whether this column becomes much more than that depends largely on the feedback I receive about it.  So let me know what you think — what your favorites are, who your favorites are, the state of film composing as it stands now, anything about movie music.  You’re about to read some of my opinions about it; now lets hear some of yours.

For this, my final issue, I have set myself the task of selecting my top ten favorite soundtracks, which is something I’ve never before undertaken.  The following parameters are in place:  they must be predominantly instrumental scores, not song scores; these selections are my favorites, the ones I listen to again and again; I’m only choosing soundtracks which I own; and the selections are for the soundtracks as a whole, not just one or two particular themes.  There are certainly themes or sequences, such as Airport’s main title, the climactic showdown in The Good, The Bad and the Ugly, or the desert chase sequence from Raiders of the Lost Ark, that would be included on a “favorite themes” list.  Perhaps that list would be more interesting, but I didn’t have the time or the inclination to attempt it.  So instead, below is a list of my favorite film soundtracks, in ascending order.

# 10: Predator  (1987)  Alan Silvestri

Dark, muscular and rhythmic, Alan Silvestri’s music for the action film Predator — and for Predator 2 a few years later — is dynamic, tough and full of drive.  It’s the same type of music that Jerry Goldsmith wrote for the Rambo movies, but with increased vigor and flair.  Silvestri’s score fits the movie precisely, detailing the characters’ mounting desperation while enhancing their flight from an otherworldly hunter with suspense and an underlying dignity.  It’s an absolutely terrific action movie music score, one that doesn’t overwhelm its subject but rather augments its effectiveness.

Prime Cuts:  “Main Title,” “Jungle Trek,” “Blain Gets Killed,” “Goodbye,” “Billy,” “The Chase,” “Preparations,” “Bad Idea,” “The Trap,” “End Title.”

# 9: The Natural  (1984)  Randy Newman

Another score that fits its subject like a glove is Randy Newman’s magical, sensitive, nostalgic score for the baseball film The Natural.  Gloriously mythic, playful, tender and dramatic, the music evokes a golden Americana that may have never been, yet which somehow feels like a treasured part of our past.  This score not only fortifies the movie’s dramatics, it also establishes its mythos, heroic structure and jazz age foundation.  The majestic main theme will live forever enhancing sports highlight reels; it is very possibly the ultimate anthem in sports-related film music ever written.

Prime Cuts:  “Prologue 1915-1923,” “The Whammer Strikes Out,” “The Majors: The Mind is a Strange Thing,” “Knock the Cover Off the Ball,” “The Natural,” “Wrigley Field,” “Winning,” “The Final Game,” “End Title.”

# 8: The Big Country  (1958)  Jerome Moross

My favorite Western film score is Jerome Moross’ majestic, exuberant and poignant score for The Big Country.  As full of life as music can be, Moross’ score is, like the music of Aaron Copland, steeped in the tradition of Americana, brimming with bold brass, tight syncopation, vivid harmony and dynamism that propels the film’s action forward.  It is, I think, the second greatest soundtrack I have ever had the pleasure to hear.  Moross only wrote fifteen film scores during his career; this is his masterpiece.

Prime Cuts:  “Main Title,” “The Welcoming,” “Old Thunder,” “The Raid and Capture,” “Polka,” “The Big Muddy,” “Cattle at the River,” “War Party Gathers / McKay in Blanco Canyon / The Major Alone.”  (1988 Silva Screen CD version).

Prime Cuts:  “Main Title,” “The Welcoming,” “Old Thunder,” “The Raid (parts 1 and 2),” “McKay’s Ride,” “Big Muddy,” “Pat’s Mistake,” “The War Party Gathers,” “McKay in Blanco Canyon,” “The Major Alone.”  (2007 La-La Land CD version).

# 7: Live and Let Die  (1973)  George Martin

As a teenager I began collecting music albums through Columbia House, and Live and Let Die was in the introductory order I made.  I love John Barry’s early James Bond scores yet feel that George Martin, who was best known as record producer for the Beatles and who only composed eight soundtracks in his career, actually improves upon the Bond sound.  Perhaps my feeling is due in part to nostalgia (though I don’t have nostalgia for the film itself, which is not very good), but I do listen to this soundtrack more than any of the other Bonds, marvelous though they are.

Prime Cuts:  “Live and Let Die,” “Bond Meets Solitaire,” “Whisper Who Dares,” “Snakes Alive,” “Bond Drops In,” “Trespassers Will Be Eaten,” “Solitaire Gets Her Cards,” “James Bond Theme.”  (1988 EMI-Manhattan CD version).

Prime Cuts:  the same as above, plus “Boat Chase.”  (2003 Capitol CD version.  While the music is essentially the same on both of these releases, this version’s tracks are usually a few measures — and seconds — longer).

# 6: E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial  (1982)  John Williams

The greatest film composer of our time is John Williams, and E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial astutely displays his incredible virtuosity in creating an score that firmly and quite grandly connects its otherworldly story to shared human experience.  Actually, this is one of Williams’ less complex scores, yet it is among his most emotionally powerful, particularly during the first flying sequence and the final, epic fifteen-minute suite.  As the alien ship rises into the night, the score reaches its zenith, the most triumphantly sustained twenty-second crescendo of pure emotion I’ve ever heard.

Prime Cuts:  “Three Million Light Years From Home,” “Abandoned and Pursued,” “E.T. and Me,” “E.T.’s Halloween,” “Flying,” “Over the Moon,” “Adventure on Earth.”  (1982 MCA CD version).

Prime Cuts:  “Far From Home / E.T. Alone,” “The Magic of Halloween,” “Escape / Chase / Saying Goodbye,” “End Credits.”  (1996 MCA CD version).  (This version is more complete and comprehensive; I like the original better anyway).

# 5: Hoosiers  (1986)  Jerry Goldsmith

Sadly, this soundtrack has only been issued on a British disc for which the movie was titled Best Shot, but Jerry Goldsmith’s music remains phenomenal.  Hoosiers contains two distinct themes; one bouncy, propulsive, action-packed theme for the basketball scenes, and a stirring, haunting main theme (and love theme) which is one of the most beautiful themes Goldsmith ever composed.  It is the love theme, played in the movie when Gene Hackman first drives into town, and again when his voice-over repeats “I love you guys” as the end credits begin, that thrills my heart.  It finishes “The Finals.”

Prime Cuts:  “Theme From Hoosiers,” “The Coach Stays,” “Get the Ball,” “The Finals.”

# 4: Hatari!  (1962)  Henry Mancini

Henry Mancini probably composed more memorable themes than anyone else in cinema history.  Hatari! boasts at least three of them.  Mancini’s adventure music, accompanying sequences of John Wayne and company capturing African animals for transport to zoos around the world, is outstanding.  It’s rhythms are remarkable, supporting the action without overwhelming it in any way.  Even better are the comic themes, one of which, “Baby Elephant Walk,” became an unforgettable, international hit.

Prime Cuts:  “Theme From Hatari!,” “Baby Elephant Walk,” “Your Father’s Feathers,” “Big Band Bwana,” “The Sounds of Hatari!,” “Crocodile, Go Home!”

# 3: Our Man Flint  (1966)  Jerry Goldsmith

My love of film music starts with this movie, which is probably significantly better than the movie itself.  Our Man Flint satirizes James Bond spy movies yet its Jerry Goldsmith theme music is not jokey at all.  It is stylish and sly, a simply constructed three-note motif that resolves over eight measures repeated in inventive variation throughout the film.  At its best, when it accompanies hero James Coburn as he destroys Galaxy’s island fortress, it is simply great action music.  My all-time favorite single cut is in this sequence:  “You’re a Foolish Man, Mr. Flint.”  It’s my personal daydream music.

Prime Cuts:  “Theme From Our Man Flint,” “Galaxy-a-Go-Go,” “You’re a Foolish Man, Mr. Flint / It’s Gotta Be a World’s Record / Stall! Stall! Flint’s Alive! / End Title.”  (1994 Tsunami CD version; paired with the In Like Flint score).

Prime Cuts:  “Our Man Flint,” “New York Skyline,” “You’re a Foolish Man, Mr. Flint,” “End Titles.”  (1998 Varese Sarabande CD version; paired with the In Like Flint score; this disc has better quality, separated tracks and is the better of the two available versions).

# 2: In Like Flint  (1967)  Jerry Goldsmith

The sequel to Our Man Flint isn’t as good a movie, but Jerry Goldsmith’s music is even better.  The familiar Flint three-note motif is present, but a more lyrical theme pervades the action.  Variation is in abundance, keenly displayed in the Russian sequence and as Flint blasts off into space to save the world.  Goldsmith was clearly having a blast creating the backdrop for Flint’s adventures because his music is endlessly spirited, inventive and, above all, loads of fun.

Prime Cuts:  “Where the Bad Guys Are Gals,” “Ahh, Your Father’s Bob-Lip / Mince and Cook Until Tender / Odin, Dva, Tri, Kick,” “Westward, Ho-o-o,” “Lost in Space,” “Your Zowie Face,” “Hail to the Chief / Main Title.” (1994 Tsunami CD version; paired with the Our Man Flint score).

Prime Cuts:  “Where the Bad Guys Are Gals,” “Ahh, Your Father’s Bob-Lip,” “Mince and Cook Until Tender,” “Odin, Dva, Tri, Kick,” “Your Zowie Face,” “Westward Ho,” “Lost in Space,” “Flint is Alive,” “End Titles.”  (1998 Varese Sarabande CD version; paired with the Our Man Flint score; this disc is the better of the two available versions).

# 1: Superman  (1978)  John Williams

My favorite film soundtrack is also the greatest score I have ever heard.  It is John Williams’ score to Superman.  As great as Williams’ scores for the Star Wars, Indiana Jones and Jaws movies are, it is his score to the 1978 Christopher Reeve Superman adventure that I feel is his best.  It is truly epic, with a memorable main theme / march, meaningful and sometimes cute themes for secondary characters and scenes, and an absolutely gorgeous love theme that takes center stage during Lois Lane’s flying sequence.  This superhero movie is emotionally grounded by Williams’ brilliant scoring; he transforms ordinary scenes into grand drama.  Coming the year after his Star Wars and Close Encounters of the Third Kind scores, Williams didn’t receive the credit, or the Oscar, that he deserved.  This is his penultimate score, and it is my favorite movie soundtrack of all time.

Prime Cuts:  “Main Title,” “The Planet Krypton,” “Destruction of Krypton,” “Love Theme From Superman,” “Leaving Home,” “The Flying Sequence and Can You Read My Mind?,” “Super Rescues,” “Superfeats,” “The March of the Villains,” “End Title.”  (1978 Warner Bros. CD version).

Prime Cuts:  “Prelude and Main Title March,” “Star Ship Escapes,” “The Trip to Earth,” “Growing Up,” “Leaving Home,” “The Big Rescue,” “The March of the Villains,” “The Flying Sequence,” “Superfeats,” “Finale and End Title March,” “Love Theme From Superman,” “The Flying Sequence / Can You Read My Mind? (film version),” “Theme From Superman (concert version).”  (2000 Rhino CD version).  (This is a 2-disc British import of the complete film score, plus alternate cues).

Prime Cuts:  “Theme From Superman,” “Prelude and Main Title,” “The Kryptonquake,” “The Trip to Earth,” “Growing Up,” “Leaving Home,” “Helicopter Sequence,” “The Flying Sequence,” “March of the Villains,” “Superfeats,” “The Prison Yard / End Title,” “Love Theme From Superman,” “I Can Fly (alternate),” “Can You Read My Mind? (alternate),” “Prelude and Main Title (film version),” “The Flying Sequence (album version).”  (2007 Film Score Monthly CD version).  (This is an 8-CD box set of music from all four Christopher Reeve Superman movies and is astonishingly comprehensive).

These are my favorites.  They may not be among the greatest ever made — though some of them undoubtedly are — but they’re the ones that float my boat.  I’ve come to the understanding that I often like movie music even more than the movies themselves.  That isn’t necessarily a contradiction; the best movie music can certainly stand on its own merits and is often played, concert style, by bands and orchestras both locally and nationally.  Many of the images we’ve watched over the years would simply be incomplete without the aural support these fine composers have provided.

To create this list I culled through my large soundtrack collection and quickly narrowed a favorites list of thirty titles.  Scores that I really, really like but which didn’t quite make the cut include, in no particular order, Duel at Diablo (Neal Hefti), Jaws, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back, Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Cowboys (John Williams), North by Northwest and Vertigo (Bernard Herrmann), The Wild Geese (Roy Budd), Conan the Barbarian (Basil Poledouris), The Right Stuff (Bill Conti), From Russia With Love and Goldfinger (John Barry), Cousins (Angelo Badalamenti), The Bride of Frankenstein (Franz Waxman), The Magnificent Seven (Elmer Bernstein), Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (James Horner), The World is Not Enough (David Arnold) and The Blue Max and Star Trek: The Motion Picture (Jerry Goldsmith).  These are my twenty semi-finalists, which represent a classic cross-section of cinema history in themselves.

Still others, like Mysterious Island (Bernard Herrmann), Once Upon a Time in the West, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly and The Untouchables (Ennio Morricone), Lone Wolf McQuade (Francesco De Masi), The Pink Panther, Arabesque, Touch of Evil and The Pink Panther Strikes Again (Henry Mancini), Capricorn One, Rambo: First Blood Part 2, The Swarm and The Great Train Robbery (Jerry Goldsmith), Cool Hand Luke (Lalo Schifrin), Lawrence of Arabia and Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (Maurice Jarre), King Kong (Max Steiner), Crocodile Dundee (Peter Best), Ragtime (Randy Newman),  King Kong Lives (John Scott), Around the World in 80 Days (Victor Young), Bram Stoker’s Dracula (Wojciech Kilar), Cat People (Giorgio Moroder), Thief (Tangerine Dream) and The Alamo (Dimitri Tiomkin) are nearly as wonderful, but I am not quite as personally attached to them.  That makes fifty-five outstanding examples of film music composition.

I freely admit that there aren’t many older, Golden Age of Hollywood scores in this pantheon.  I like composers such as Erich Wolfgang Korngold, Miklos Rozsa, Leith Stevens, William Alwyn and Ernest Gold and I appreciate their work, but I find it, for the most part, rather short on melody.  For me, the greatest era of film music begins with Bernard Herrmann and Henry Mancini in the 1950s and lasts into the 1980s before it starts to fade.  The beauty of Williams, Goldsmith, Barry, Conti, Schifrin, Morricone, Budd and others is that they write melodies and harmonics to match and reinforce the visual action, not just support it as mood music in the background.  Listen to most scores today by people like James Newton Howard, Harry Gregson-Williams, Trevor Rabin or Howard Shore and it seems that melodies are almost accidental.  That shouldn’t be.  Of course there are many ways to write film music.  Mood music has its place.  What cannot be argued is that cinema offers incredible opportunity to mate image and music in fundamentally powerful, exciting ways.

The ways in which these composers fulfill that opportunity is what stimulates my passion for cinema as a whole and these marvelous film scores in particular.  There’s nothing better than a great soundtrack!  (10:4).

For this issue I have decided to spotlight two seminal soundtracks by the late, great Henry Mancini.  In the late fifties / early sixties, he was The Man for creating hip, melodic, popular film soundtracks.  Weaned on Universal product throughout the ’50s under the tutelage of Hans Salter and Herman Stein, Mancini wrote or contributed to the scores for and orchestrated dozens of films during that time, mostly uncredited. His big band experience proved invaluable and his penchant for big band jazz landed him the gig for scoring TV’s “Peter Gunn” and Orson Welles’ film Touch of Evil (1958).

Had Touch of Evil been a prestigious project, Mancini would in all likelihood not have received the assignment.  But as Orson Welles took over and turned a B-movie into a minor masterpiece, Mancini rose to the challenge, contributing a moody, jazzy score that enhances the action as surely as Welles’ direction improves the film.  Mancini’s score is Elmer Bernstein-like, but with more melody and reliance on rhythm and syncopation.  A preponderance of bongo drums and brass is heard early and often, yet they do not overshadow the score’s more nuanced passages.

The “Main Title” begins darkly, then moves into a sweeter sound with trumpets, saxophones and bongos mixing melody, harmony and a noirish atmosphere while we wait for the bomb that was planted in the car at the beginning of the most famous extended shot in cinema history to explode.  ”Borderline Montuna” is the opposite; it starts sweetly and then bursts into jazz fusion with a galloping trumpet solo and an intense climax.

Welles dictated that Mancini’s music should sound as if it was coming from radios and other sources, so the score offers several “Afro-Cuban rhythm numbers,” as the director referred to them.  Using electric guitars and a minimum of instruments, Mancini turned tracks like “Strollin’ Blues,” “Orson Around,” “Rock Me to Sleep,” “The Big Drag,” “Ku Ku,” “Son of Raunchy” and “Bar Room Rock” into numbers you might hear at a jazz-oriented sock hop.  ”Lease Breaker” is a bit more ambitious but in the same vein.  However, other cuts like “Flashing Nuisance,” “The Boss,” “Something for Susan” and “The Chase” continue to emphasize the danger that awaits cop Charlton Heston as he investigates corruption on the Mexican side of the border.

Two tracks are really striking.  ”Background to Murder” is a seven-minute recap, extrapolation and reconstruction of the main theme with a gradual crescendo that evolves into a semi-discordant, free-form fulmination of sound as it accompanies the murder of Joe Grandi (Akim Tamiroff) in a darkened bedroom.  The other is my favorite cut of the album: a slow, smooth ballad called “Susan,” with a bouncy bass line and with a melody played skillfully on piano, xylophone and guitar.  The more I hear this track, the more I like it.  But that’s true of the entire album, a Mancini classic.

More mainstream is Mancini’s largely comic score to Hatari! (1962), a largely comic movie.  One track in particular, “Baby Elephant Walk,” with its catchy melody and unusual instrumentation (clarinets and flutes to represent the elephants) was a worldwide hit and remains one of Mancini’s most recognizable musical motifs.  Just about as catchy and enjoyable is “Your Father’s Feathers,” played while John Wayne, Hardy Kruger, Red Buttons and company chase some ostriches around their African camp.  Other cuts such as “Big Band Bwana” and “Crocodile, Go Home!” prove that nobody was as adept at moving between and combining easy listening sounds, jazz riffs and big band orchestrations as Henry Mancini.  Ever.

I love the movie Hatari! and a prime factor is its music.  Aside from the brilliant, unforgettable “Baby Elephant Walk,” my favorite cuts are not, however, from the comic side of the film.  The main “Theme from Hatari!” and “The Sounds of Hatari!” are the tracks I love the most, especially the latter.  The main theme is somewhat sad yet exhilarating, promising adventure and excitement.  ”The Sounds of Hatari!” is almost entirely percussion for a while, adding rhythmic bass notes on beats 5 and 8 of the measure and gradually increasing the tempo until the drumming sounds like a herd of wild animals charging at the speakers.  It’s just what the movie calls for, which is the sound that great composers deliver.  Henry Mancini was a master. (10:3).

The three greatest Western soundtracks, in my view, are those for The Magnificent Seven (Elmer Bernstein), The Cowboys (John Williams) and The Big Country (Jerome Moross).  And at the top of that very short, very exclusive list, is Jerome Moross’ wonderful, brilliant score for The Big Country.

As with most great scores there are several independent themes which run through the work, sometimes alone, sometimes grandly intersecting, creating a tapestry of intertwining melody, harmony and euphony.  The “Main Title” is a perfect example. It begins with the whirling, twirling strings suggesting wagon wheels racing across the frontier and brass in a major key establishing a broad base for the action to come. The music then segues into a syncopated rhythm of the main theme, a climbing, soaring melody both majestic and poignant, before restaging the opening brassy foundation, and then easing into the story’s beginning.

Moross’ music, like so much Western movie music, reminds one of Aaron Copland’s — bright, crisp, flavorful and exuberant.  In fact, Moross had worked with Copland during his early days in Tinseltown, and the two had great mutual respect for one another.  Nowhere in the score is Copland’s influence more apparent than in “The Welcoming,” Moross’ brisk, bold and deft chase theme as sea captain Jim McKay (Gregory Peck), coming to the West for the first time, is hazed by Buck Hannassey (Chuck Connors).  A sly humor to the music is present as well, reiterating to the audience that this hazing is not particularly serious, though McKay’s fiancé Pat Terrill (Carroll Baker) considers it so.

A gentle highlight is the almost whimsical theme used when McKay declines to ride the bronco “Old Thunder.”  Only parts of this theme were used in the film; it is heard here in its entirety.  While some of the score consists of action cues, much of it reflects Jim McKay’s view of the West (which, in turn, reflects his view of the sea): a vast, unspoiled, pristine area with depths of beauty and wonder that promise exploration and fulfillment for years to come.  Moross’ music for this mindset is lyrical and serene, as evidenced in “McKay’s Ride” and, especially, “Big Muddy,” the score’s most evocative expression of the main theme.

I love the gentle side of the score, but Moross also excels at building tension in other cuts such as “The Raid” (Parts 1 and 2), “Pat’s Mistake,” “The War Party Gathers,” “McKay in Blanco Canyon” and, most triumphantly, in “The Major Alone.”  To be truthful, there’s not a whole lot of action in the movie, but Moross skillfully creates the aural illusion that shooting will erupt at any moment throughout the film.  And when violence erupts, as in “The Fight,” “The Attempted Rape,” “The Duel” and, especially, “The Stalking,” melody is subordinated to urgent musical strains of warning and calamity, most often expressed by sharp, staccato, minor key phrases that continually climb in pitch until the penultimate moment of cathartic savagery.

This CD contains Moross’ complete score, including some music not included in the final edit.  It is not the only version available; a terrific 1988 18-track Silva Screen Records recording of the score by the Philharmonia Orchestra is also very worthwhile.  In any case, this is one of the finest soundtracks ever recorded.  (10:2).

Slightly behind Jerry Goldsmith and John Williams, I think my next favorite composer is Roy Budd.  A jazz pianist, Roy Budd was a familiar sight in London night spots in the 1960s before he was persuaded to try his hand at writing music for movies.  His scores for Soldier Blue (1970), Fear is the Key (1972) and especially Get Carter   (1971) made him an indispensable part of the 1970s film scene, particularly later, under the aegis of producer Euan Lloyd.

Most of Budd’s scores are fluid jazz, flavored with dynamic melodies and incomparable orchestrations.  Scores like The Stone Killer (1973), The Marseilles Contract (1974) and Diamonds (1975) are exercises in silky funk, while Kidnapped  (1971) and The Sea Wolves (1980) feature more traditional orchestral arrangements.

However, my favorite Budd themes are military in style.  I love his theme for Zeppelin (1971), and it is a crime that a complete soundtrack for it has never been released.  Then there is The Wild Geese (1978), a mercenary war adventure which spawned a belated sequel seven years later.  The Wild Geese has a dual distinction for Roy Budd in my mind: it’s among the best films on which he ever worked, and among the finest soundtracks he ever wrote.  Of course, that’s just my opinion.

Budd’s main theme for The Wild Geese – which, admittedly, comprises most of the soundtrack — is a glorious, major key melody that soars with grace and majesty, played by a full orchestra led by a splendid brass section.  It perfectly captures the movie’s joy of adventure.  The “Overture” sets the tone, showcasing the main melody without a great deal of metronomic percussion or bass, then segues into the secondary theme, the jaunty march of the enlisted men.  Then, “Main Titles” slows the melody and sets it to a stately rhythm.  ”Reunion” slows it even further and adds some emotional coloring before resuming a more exciting pace.

“The Wild Geese Theme” is played twice: once as a resplendent theme for the mercenary heroes (Richard Burton, Roger Moore, Richard Harris, Hardy Kruger) and again as the fifteenth track, a live orchestral version not used in the film, using a slightly different orchestration.  Other themes are explored in “Rescue of Limbani” and “Compound,” but both are suspenseful, rhythmic action cues.  My favorite cut remains the “Main Titles” because it stands apart from the rest of the score, yet still retains its brilliance.

Budd’s music for the sequel, The Wild Geese II (1985), is more akin to his usual scoring.  It’s suspense music and action cueing.  His “Main Title” theme is somewhat similar to that of the first film, but not nearly as melodic or majestic.  Much of this score is in a minor key and involves string instruments rather than brass, with an emphasis on bass guitar.  My favorite cut from this score is “Solitary Confinement,” a dirge-like morif with several striking key changes and an ever-increasing intensity.

The final cut on this CD is a suite from another action thriller, The Final Option  (1980).  Budd’s theme is a simple descending three-note motif repeated four times, surrounded by lots of ’70s style funk and bass guitar.  It’s similar to Goldsmith’s Our Man Flint theme, which I love.  The final two minutes showcase the pianist’s fingers dancing in and out of the melody with virtuosity.  This is cool stuff.  (10:1).

Big band swing music is the focus of The Glenn Miller Story soundtrack.  Because Miller’s original recordings were not made utilizing stereo it was decided by the producers to recreate them, so Universal’s music men, Joseph Gershenson and Henry Mancini, transposed Glenn Miller’s music, including solos and ad-libs.  They then re-recorded the music using a new orchestra which featured no less than seven original members of Miller’s band.  The result is an album which recreates Glenn Miller’s music while adding the aural dimension of stereo recording.  It’s a fabulous album!

As James Stewart (who portrays Miller in the movie) mentions in the liner notes, “‘Moonlight Serenade’ perhaps accompanies more marriage proposals and declarations of love than Wagner’s ‘Wedding March.’”  Miller’s signature tune leads off the musical lineup of this CD, which encompasses ten of the two dozen or so musical numbers sampled in the film.  Perhaps someday a truly complete soundtrack will be made available, but until that time, this one will do quite nicely.

Glenn Miller was a master arranger, as “Moonlight Serenade” proves, with its tight harmonies, woodwind and brass blends, smooth clarinet solo and dramatic pause in the middle of the song.  Friskier highlights are found with “Little Brown Jug,” which jazzes up the old standard with flaring trumpets, jumping percussion and solos by alto sax, trumpet and trombone; the scale-climbing piece “A String of Pearls,” with its beautifully tricky, key-jumping trumpet solo; “St. Louis Blues – March,” a jazzy track dominated by drums and trumpet and odd, minor keys; and especially another signature Miller piece, “In the Mood.”  Few tunes have ever proven to be as timelessly popular as Miller’s reshaped version of Joe Garland’s music.  Virtually every recording of it since then has taken Miller’s upbeat approach and the movies which have utilized this rousing music are innumerable.  The final refrains, in which two gradually fade before the final one blasts to glory, are musical Heaven.

Period influences are to be found in two standards: “Tuxedo Junction,” which recalls the railroads of the era with its harmonic “doo-wop” low brass line and soft, rhythmic drum keeping perfect time, and “Pennsylvania 6-5000,” with its ringing telephone bells and chorus announcing the title telephone exchange, a system that probably means nothing to anyone under the age of 40.

Louis Armstrong and his All-Stars make lengthy appearances in two songs: the New Orleans-flavored “Basin Street Blues,” and the traditional Russian “Otchi-Tchor-Ni-Ya.”  These tracks offer aural variation, featuring Satchmo’s raspy vocals, piano solos and looser orchestrations than Miller’s band.  This is jazz!

I’ve saved my favorite track for last.  ”American Patrol” is, like “In the Mood,” an upbeat song that intensifies as it builds.  The reason it is my favorite is because I used to play it when I played cornet in the Gower School band.  When we were assigned this song, I listened to the Glenn Miller recording and patterned my own playing after it.  There is no doubt that it made me a better cornetist.  Every time I hear “American Patrol” I am reminded of those days and the thrill that I felt when playing music in public.  I can think of few other musical compositions that I enjoyed playing more; it is one of my favorite pieces of music.  I hope you enjoy it as well. (9:4).

As opposed to regular soundtracks, compilation soundtracks offer listeners the opportunity to sample music from various composers or movies, centered around a particular theme, performer, genre or other element.  The compilation I have chosen to highlight in this issue is titled “The Longest Day - Music from the Classic War Films.”  It was recorded in 1994 by conductor Paul Bateman and the prestigious City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra.  And while these are not the original film scores themselves, this is a very clear and accurate rendition of their music.

The majority of the war films represented on this disc are from the 1960s and 1970s, with an emphasis on British composers and films.  Thus, Ron Goodwin authors four of these tracks, while more obscure composers such as Clifton Parker and Eric Coates are also heard.

Ron Goodwin is an excellent choice for this collection, as his best work is to be found in the movies noted here, as well as Operation Crossbow and the wild comedy Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines.  Goodwin’s theme for 633 Squadron, with a soaring melody that suggests flying and repetitive, echo-like verse endings that indicate infinite space, is often included in war and aviation music compilations.  His “Aces High” from The Battle of Britain, is a regal, stately tribute to flyers engaged in that conflict — it’s actually the Luftwaffe March, but it proved to be so popular as a concert piece that Goodwin gave it a more patriotic name for British venues.  Perhaps more familiar is his rhythmic, dark-toned, ever ascending theme from Where Eagles Dare.  There isn’t much melody to it but it is devilishly effective as a musical backdrop.  Finally, Goodwin’s theme to Force 10 from Navarone is featured.  Much lighter in tone, the theme is one of my favorites, one which I prefer to Dimitri Tiomkin’s original Guns of Navarone theme, the third track on this album.

Some of this music will be instantly familiar, such as Tiomkin’s Guns of Navarone theme, the “Colonel Bogey” March from The Bridge on the River Kwai (it’s sometimes credited to Malcolm Arnold, but was written by Kenneth Alford), Elmer Bernstein’s iconic, jaunty theme to The Great Escape and John Addison’s melodic overture to A Bridge Too Far.  This album’s greatest asset, however, is the inclusion of more obscure themes such as Eric Coates’ bouncy Dambusters theme, Bernstein’s almost-Western style theme to The Bridge at Remagen and the rarely heard, nautical sounding imperial march to Midway by John Williams.  It’s hearing this music, often for the first time since seeing the movies, that is such a treat.

My favorite composer, Jerry Goldsmith, is represented twice, once in medley form. In concert, Goldsmith often combined his stately MacArthur and Patton themes together as they are heard here; it’s remarkable how well they fit into each other.  Two of Goldsmith’s themes from In Harm’s Way are paired back to back in the fifteenth cut, demonstrating his versatility for heroic and dramatic scoring.

As is proper for war films, marches dominate the musical landscape, yet other motifs appear as well.  Klaus Doldinger’s Das Boot theme is electronic in nature, played on a synthesizer.  Maurice Jarre’s theme to Is Paris Burning? transforms from dark music of invasion into a waltz, and is actually quite beautiful.

The only quibbles I have with this CD are the omissions (where are The Caine Mutiny or Tora! Tora! Tora!?) and that some of the tracks sound too similar in terms of orchestration.  Yet this compilation is a great introduction to grand themes of glorious war movie music.  (9:3).

For my second foray into the world of instrumental soundtrack reviewing, I have chosen another double feature, again from the psychedelic era of the mid-1960s. This duo features two composers, one of whom has gone onto greatness, while the other is not well known outside of cinema circles.

Vic Mizzy was a prolific scorer of comedy features in the 1960s; he most often scored Don Knotts comedies like The Reluctant Astronaut, The Ghost and Mr. Chicken and  The Shakiest Gun in the West, with bouncy melodies, whimsical motifs and sound effects.  Mizzy also did a great deal of television work, supplying the medium with the themes to “The Addams Family,” “Green Acres,” “Temperatures Rising,” and “The Don Rickles Show,” among others.

His work on Don’t Make Waves (1967) is similar to the scores he wrote for the Knotts comedies, yet deeper and more profound.  A few of the tracks in the middle of the score are lighthearted, jaunty cuts that recall the Knotts work because star Tony Curtis has his share of slapstick moments as he tries to woo lovely beach bunnies. But Mizzy could rock out as well, and his main title theme, “Daybreak at Malibu” proves it.  A snazzy mix of guitar, strings, brass and percussion, this track is my favorite Mizzy track of all time, with my only complaint being that it ends too soon, when the titles do.

That theme is reprised in the eleventh track with interesting variations, while the final track, “The Girl on the Trampoline,” is an ode to Sharon Tate bouncing in slow motion on a trampoline at the beach.  Tate would be murdered soon after the release of this movie, which gives this track a somber, nostalgic quality unintended at the time of its writing.  Mizzy’s soundtrack is a good one, but those three tracks are the standouts to me.

John Williams, still being billed as Johnny Williams, is the author of the score for Penelope (1966), a kleptomaniac caper comedy with Natalie Wood.  It’s one of his earliest features and highlights his skill with melodies and the variations which reflect the changing moods of the motion picture.  He wrote a catchy title tune (with lyrics by Leslie Bricusse) which is performed by the Pennypipers.  Variations of this theme are heard in the instrumental version and the love theme.

The love theme establishes the title theme’s “Who is Penelope?” refrain as a free-standing melody and other lushly orchestrated tracks such as “Penny’s Arcade” and especially “The Girl in the Yellow Dress” use this truncated theme as a basis while charting their own lyrical courses.  These tracks fully demonstrate John Williams’ delightful versatility, as they effectively develop one basic theme into an interrelated mix of music, using techniques like dramatic key changes, tempo variations and an eclectic mix of instruments, from traditional strings and brass to high woodwinds, guitars, percussion and a xylophone to create a bouncy, sunny sound.

My favorite track is the moody melody “Poolside,” a dreamlike composition with a swirling counterpoint and a soft, jazzy saxophone solo.  Perhaps the most notable track, however, is Natalie Wood’s rendition of “The Sun is Grey,” sung at a beatnik club.  Remember, it was five years earlier that Wood was famously dubbed for her role in West Side Story.  This song illustrates that Wood could sing, though not with any great range.  Thus, this soundtrack not only offers the rare chance to hear her sing, but John Williams’s best early effort.  (9:2).

This is the inaugural segment of a new feature in which I will discuss some of my favorite movie soundtracks.  Most of these will be instrumental soundtracks, for that is my preference.  Instrumental soundtracksare composed like classical music, except that they accompany visual motifs.  And except for a few exceptionallytalented individuals who have scored their own movies — Charlie Chaplin, John Carpenter, Clint Eastwood — film composers match their musical ideas toother people’s visualizations.  Sometimes the results are jarring and don’t feel right, but when done well, the results are magical.

I could not begin this feature with anyone other than Jerry Goldsmith.  He is not the best in the field (I would rate John Williams and Bernard Herrmann as more talented), but he is my favorite composer nonetheless.  Goldsmith, who died in 2004, was a prolific, intense, passionate composer whose career spanned five decades of film and television work.  He was known for his science-fiction and fantasy scores but he could interpret music for any type of project.  I could — and perhaps will — discuss a couple of dozen classic Goldsmith scores, but I’ll start with a CD that encompasses my two all-time favorites of his:  Our Man Flint (1966) and In Like Flint (1967).

Made both to emulate and parody the James Bond cycle then at its peak, the Derek Flint films boast jazzy Goldsmith scores which not only support the action but take center stage on several occasions.  Flint’s main theme is a series of basic four three-note cadences which begin in a major key, move into minor keys and return back into major keys during the final cadence.  This simple theme comprises the majority of the Our Man Flint score, played in endless variations and motifs as superspy Derek Flint (James Coburn) saves the world from scientists bent on controlling the weather.

Goldsmith’s creativity led him to augment traditional symphonic instruments with electronic instruments, and this was more than a decade before synthesizers became popular.  The Flint theme is played by a pair of electric guitars in harmony, supported by a full orchestra.  Exotic variations of the theme are developed in “New York Skyline,” where the music changes styles when Flint changes dance partners.  Percussion-charged action music builds to full throttle in “You’re a Foolish Man, Mr. Flint,” one of my all-time favorite music tracks.  When I daydream about derring-do, it’s usually accompanied by this music.

The In Like Flint score (which, oddly, precedes the earlier film on this CD) uses the Flint theme extensively (most impressively in the Russian-themed “Odin, Dva,  Tri, Kick” action music cue), yet begins and ends with a new theme, “Where the Bad Guys Are Gals,” an incredibly lyrical ode to evil women when sung by a chorus as “Your Zowie Face.”

Goldsmith’s second Flint score is more assured and imaginative than his first, although the movie itself isn’t as good as the first one.  It’s more elegant and varied, and even jazzier than Our Man Flint.  More electric instruments are utilized and sounds get positively space-y at times with pulsating bass lines and Forbidden Planet-like tonalities.

This is definitely music of its era and may seem dated to some listeners, but I could, and do, listen to these scores often.  They, more than any other music, fueled my burgeoning love of movie music during my formative years.  I couldn’t live comfortably without them.  (9:1).