Sounds on the screen
By Heather Murphy
CNN Headline News
(CNN) -- Movies have come a long way in 100 years. People used to pack halls to see "moving pictures" of people just walking down the street. In the early days, the sight of a gunslinger pointing a six-shooter into the camera in "The Great Train Robbery" was enough to cause a temporary panic in theaters.
Now, even the most stunning special effects quickly become passé, but one thing has remained consistent throughout movie history: music.
The earliest movies were silent, so theaters hired musicians to evoke what the actors could not. Pianists poked out a sugary sweet twitter in place of a flirty giggle, a low-threatening rumble stood in for a villain's cackle, a light tune might signify a joke. Audiences got it, and they appreciated the musical cues.
The cues continue today. What do you think of when you think of "Jaws"? Two musical notes, played slowly at first, then growing slightly in speed and intensity with each repeat. Composer John Williams thought it was a pretty good musical cue that something really bad was about to happen. It worked. When you hear those two notes today, what kind of image does it conjure up? A big dorsal fin and nothing but trouble.
Can you think of "Psycho" without hearing the screeching violins in the shower scene? It's a musical scream more frightening than anything Janet Leigh could have worked up. On the big screen, we know trouble when we see it, and hear it.
Where villains get the ominous rumble of the bass, heroes get the rush of trumpets. On film, any archaeologist can swing across a chasm or fend off bandits with a bullwhip, but he's not Indiana Jones until the music tells us to cheer. Admit it, you're hearing the theme song in your head right now. The same goes for "Star Wars" and "Superman" -- you can't think of the movies without hearing the music. It's the music of hope, valor and all that is good in the universe. The musical cue means you can smile and that everything is going to be all right.
But not every song on a soundtrack has to stand out like a hero's flourish or a bad guy's swoop. Some of the best scores sneak up on you. They help illustrate a scene without taking center stage.
Imagine Meryl Streep and Robert Redford dancing together in the moonlight in "Out of Africa." In the background, a Victrola plays a melancholy waltz. Without the music, the scene would have been just another end to a love affair. But that song in particular gave it all the emotion that couldn't be expressed by two aching souls. The title alone says it all: "Let the Rest of the World Go By." I watched that movie for the first time when I was 16, and that song made it clear to me that there was more to a movie than costumes, characters and scenery.
Then there are the soundtracks where the music is everything. The Motown standards woven throughout "The Big Chill" became the soundtrack for a generation. It even helped name the generation. They weren't just yuppies anymore, they were members of the "'Big Chill' generation."
Movies for Generation X set themselves apart by using alternative artists. Think of the John Hughes movies, with soundtracks full of songs by Echo & the Bunnymen and The Smiths. If you're my age and you think of "The Breakfast Club," you probably hear the Simple Minds song "Don't You (Forget About Me)" in your head.
I doubt anyone goes to the movies just for the soundtrack. But can you imagine a movie without music? No soaring strings in "Gone With the Wind," no thumping electronica in "The Matrix," no creepy strains to frame "Edward Scissorhands," no "Ride of the Valkyries" in "Apocalypse Now."
The "moving pictures" just wouldn't be the same without music.
