Overture for a Tortured Artist
Design by Heidy Hur. See the full spread in Issue 76.
It’s a tale as old as time: an artist can be driven mad by their work. These films have emerged as fan-favorites among cinephiles, but not only because their characters are so bold and memorable. Without music, these characters are almost incomprehensible. As they are paired with classic films of their genre, these scores are perfect examples of how to use music to capture the delusion and grandiosity of a “tortured artist.” With the insight these scores provide, the audience has a familiar language to work with while inhabiting a new, uncomfortable skin. Here are five movie scores that crawl into the twisted minds of their complex main characters:
“Black Swan” (2010)
From the first moments of the film’s score, the audience can tell that this story is a tragedy.
Using the music and narrative structure of the classic ballet “Swan Lake” to build tension through the eeriness of distant familiarity, composer Clint Mansell corrupts the recognizable, beautiful themes of Tchaikovsky’s magnum opus with fresh pangs of madness and intrigue. “We had this idea to deconstruct [Swan Lake], to rip it apart, to find the core of it,” said Mansell of his unique approach to scoring the film, which included rearranging portions of the ballet to emphasize its darkest qualities while leaving others untouched. Mansell uses a chilling, well-refined palette of piano and strings to communicate the severity and terror of Nina’s transformation into the Swan Queen. The disturbing onset of such familiar themes feels almost hallucinatory, blurring the line between fantasy and reality and making the viewer react as if they too are possessed by the immensity of Nina’s role. The undeniable beauty of the score paints Nina’s fate as inevitable, and in a sick way, justified. As the score climbs to its final climaxes, we understand the gravity of what Nina was chasing. Mansell’s use of Swan Lake is an ode to perfection, a lesson Nina is all too familiar with.
“Whiplash” (2014)
Neiman, an emotionally distant and abused young student, hardly belongs in the same league as some of the other characters on this list. But his twisted relationship with Fletcher, his instructor, bleeds into the film’s score. Justin Hurwitz and Tim Simonec’s jazzy compositions allow Neiman to lean into his darkest impulses, eventually driving himself to a breaking point (quite literally), while creating space for Fletcher to disarm the audience with tender piano performances that unearth a sensitivity to an otherwise brutal character. At other moments, atmospheric electronic music underscores the characters’ private life, revealing a layer of delicacy the film otherwise neglects. By blending these genres, the composers expand the conflict between the image the film’s characters wish to present and the way they truthfully feel about themselves. These moments contrast sharply with the loud, heavy sounds of rehearsal scenes with the full band as performed in the film. Instead of leaning into the bombasity of jazz, Hurwitz and Simonec build these tracks one note at a time, using the textures of a jazz band in a new way, creating a result that feels like earthly electronic music. The blend of classic ingredients and new techniques perfectly captures the push-and-pull of Neiman’s addictive passion for jazz and sadistic attachment to Fletcher’s instruction.
“Phantom Thread” (2017)
Jonny Greenwood’s lush and tender score for “Phantom Thread” subtly builds tension and emotional drama as the audience realizes how harmful the dynamic between Reynolds, the well-established fashion designer, and Alma, his lover and muse, really is. Greenwood, Radiohead guitarist turned film composer, was inspired by the dense orchestration of love ballads of the 50s and 60s, recording the score with a full 60-piece orchestra. The film, and its score, operates in the cross section between erie and alluring, exploring the ways that beauty and aesthetics can mask darker truths. The sheer devotion, controlling nature, and passion of Reynolds comes through in the score’s intense swells of string instruments. Neurotic and deceptively charming, this score plays up the main character’s knack for aesthetics and appreciation of beauty.
“Tár” (2021)
Hildur Guðnadóttir set out to capture "the messiness of the work involved in preparing classical music for performance” in the score for “Tár.” Posed with the unique challenge of needing to literally embody the film’s titular character, Guðnadóttir created the fictional music that highly-acclaimed composer Lydia Tár is working on in the film. In this metastructure, Guðnadóttir repurposes Mahler’s Fifth Symphony as performed and conducted live by Cate Blanchett and the Dresden Philharmonic. Juxtaposed with Guðnadóttir’s sparse non-traditional compositions, these rehearsal scenes are particularly memorable. The film’s score and narrative both rely on Mahler’s work for a heightened sense of credibility and tradition while leaning into the titular character’s wandering, corrupt nature in its original compositions.
At points in “Tár,” the score is almost undetectable, drawing the audience’s attention to the sheer magnitude of the Mahler’s Fifth in roaring rehearsal and performance scenes. “It's like having a ghost in the room that you can't see, but you can feel,” said Guðnadóttir of her unconventional score. “For Petra” is delicate and fleeting, unlike basically everything else in the film, while the very stern “Tár” three-part composition reveals the titular character’s mastery of tension and discomfort. Guðnadóttir includes Tár speaking German to her orchestra in recordings of rehearsal scenes to weaponize the exclusivity of classical music and displace the audience. We are left out of the action just as we are finally able to hear what Lydia has been preparing, forced to sit back and let the experts work in private. These moments are a reminder of how Lydia sees herself and the world of classical music: an elite club, to which the entry fee is blood, sweat, tears, and the right connections.
“May December” (2023)
The score of “May December” is best captured in a brief description from director Todd Haynes: “exciting, juicy, strange and excessive.” Throughout the film, Natalie Portman’s Elizabeth makes moves as bold as the score while she navigates how to portray a complicated, widely-hated figure in a manner that is digestible to Hollywood’s audience. Marcelo Zavros, the score’s composer, repurposes the theme’s chords from the score of the 1971 forbidden-romance drama “The Go-Between” composed by Michael Legrand, building a sense of horror in an otherwise calm film. The film’s music belies a sense of discomfort and evilness, meant to serve as a counterpoint to what is happening on screen: with the addition of music, the film's most serene, domestic moments easily become some of its most intense. Only in “May December” can the line “I don’t think we have enough hot dogs” send a pit to the audience’s stomach, aided by the spectacle the score creates. The score is designed to take the viewer out of the film and pressure them to sit with the grotesque and contradictory characters with a renewed sense of reality. As the film progresses, the viewer begins to anticipate the next thrum of a dark, rich chord, but is left on their toes as Zarvos leans into the delicacy that the emotional world of the film’s characters require, keeping the audience firmly in the role of “spectator.” The film’s viewers are forced to make judgments and participate in the delusions of Gracie, and eventually Elizabeth, by the omnipresence of the score. “May December” is the “tortured artist” score in its final form, using its meta structure and campy style to sow villainy and outrage among its audience.