is a
straight forward domestic abuse drama that features practically none of
the author's usual supernatural elements. The 1995 adaptation stars
Kathy Bates as a maid to a wealthy New England family, a quietly
desperate woman beaten physically and emotionally by her excessively
drinking, molesting husband. In flashback format, she is revealed to
have been encouraged by the woman of the upscale home to kill her
husband via a convenient accident, which she eventually managed to
accomplish during an eclipse. When she is blamed for the later death of
her employer as well, she is forced to elude prosecution from
Christopher Plummer's detective and come to terms with her estranged
daughter. It's a movie about sexual abuse, vengeful feminism, and
repressed memories, with the violent portions of the tale pitching the
story towards the horror genre. Although satisfyingly bittersweet in its
conclusion,
is by no means an easy viewing
experience, the convincing performances by Bates, Plummer, and David
Straithairn (as the husband) serving as the main attraction. The coastal
Maine scenery (with Canada standing in), as well as the interior design
of the film, is made to de-emphasize vitality, intentionally sapping
much of the beauty inherent to the area in an attempt to accentuate the
disgust and distrust between the principle players. Also contributing to
bleak atmosphere and psychological terror of
is
Danny Elfman's somewhat uncharacteristically drab orchestral score, the
muted and troubled demeanor of his contribution matching the lack of
identity and dulled color palette of the tale and its scenery. It's a
work of extreme introspection that is met with either indifference or
admiration by the composer's collectors, the music functioning better as
an emphasis of the dichotomy between present and past on screen than as
an appreciable standalone listening experience.
The still-ascendant Elfman went through a period in the
middle to late 1990's during which he sought to shake the gothic fantasy
mould that had defined his early orchestral career, and he thus seemed
enamored with character dramas of a morbidly downbeat nature,
highlighted by his early and classic score for
Sommersby. In
terms of its orchestral techniques and depressing mood,
Dolores
Claiborne is the lesser sibling to that 1993 work, absent any of the
specialty instruments for location or a harmonious, melodramatic set of
thematic structures. Elfman's music in the film is largely restrained,
with the exception of a few exceedingly violent interactions between the
maid and her husband, a tool of subtlety to mark distinctions between
the two time periods. All of the creativity in wacky rhythmic and
instrumental usage by Elfman is completely drained from
Dolores
Claiborne, leaving it an exceedingly somber accompaniment that
produces its own set of challenges when attempting to define its
identity. It is a score well respected by Elfman collectors for its
integrity of spirit, consistency in disillusionment, interesting
spanning of extreme tones at the outer edges of the treble and bass, and
intelligent employment of strings, harp, and piano, but it, much like
Extreme Measures the next year, nevertheless remains one of the
composer's more difficult and potentially unappealing album
presentations.The foundation for
Dolores Claiborne is a weighty
string section of the orchestra, with long lines explored by seemingly
directionless players. (In reality, that are actually following simple,
very elongated thematic progressions). Skittish violin accents true to
Elfman's slightly more eccentric tendencies exist throughout the score
as well, highlighting "Vera's World." Deep piano and timpani hits ground
the score in the bass while brass only provides depth in long, often
incongruous counterpoint roles. Occasional woodwind solos attempt to
offer some warmth to the relationships in the picture but usually fail.
Elfman's usual light choral touch punctuates the few moments of victory
for the maid, eerily mystical during the conclusion of the "Eclipse"
scene and settling the heart with a sense of resolution in "End
Credits."
There is a primary theme for
Dolores Claiborne,
established in "Main Title" and a defining factor thereafter, though it
takes so long for its deliberate progressions to unfold that listeners
will have significant difficulty recalling it after the score has
finished. This decision by Elfman was surely intentional, as it takes
the entire picture for the audience to truly know and trust the
characters. Not helping the melody is Elfman's tendency to reinforce his
unsetting atmosphere by inserting occasional notes well outside of the
already strained tonality of the theme. There are a few moments of
outright dissonance or atonal force in the score, a few exploding with
excessive volume, but there is a perpetual sense of unease that results
from Elfman's frequent layering of slightly incongruous lines. Easier to
remember from the score is a rising and falling four-note sequence
usually performed on piano that extends out of the main theme and is
applied as its own motif. An octave-spanning motif for piano and plucked
strings contributes a touch of intrigue. Only in two scenes in the film
does Elfman's score really assert itself in the mix, and, as mentioned
before, both involve the domestic violence between the maid and her
husband. The sudden burst of anger in "Getting Even," an incomplete
version of which provided on the initial album, keenly balances
tumultuous bass string rhythms and pounding piano with delicate chimes
of music box tone. In "Eclipse," Elfman finally offers brass an
interesting performance, allowing it to follow an almost
Nightbreed-like chase sequence with rapping and tapping
percussion and blurting a prominent, seemingly distorted set of figures.
These two scenes are aided significantly by these cues in the film,
though the rest of the score tends to wash away in the background of the
many quiet dialogue scenes. It has been noted that international dubs of
the film drastically increased the volume of Elfman's score, almost to
distracting levels. The 1995 album from Varèse Sarabande offered
a scant 30 minutes of music out of film order, but the label eventually
atoned with a limited, 2-CD expansion in 2020 that includes the bulk of
the score with three alternate takes. Expect this oppressive
presentation to fill some voids in the narrative but challenge your
patience with redundancy. The "End Credits" cue remains a strong suite
representing the work. On either product, you have to respect Elfman's
careful approach to
Dolores Claiborne, but the experience could
either bore or depress you with little reward.
@Amazon.com: CD or
Download
- Music as Written for the Film: ***
- Music as Heard on Album: **
- Overall: ***
| Bias Check: |
For Danny Elfman reviews at Filmtracks, the average editorial rating is 3.16
(in 85 reviews)
and the average viewer rating is 3.26
(in 146,678 votes). The maximum rating is 5 stars.
|
