by Jenny Nelson
When the film was released, Abrams explained why Giacchino was his only choice of composer for his leap from television to cinema: ‘For some reason Michael and I see things very similarly. Whether it’s his commenting on a cut or a story point or a scene, or my commenting on a theme, we always push each other.’ Their discussions about the score would often involve a keyboard – played by the director: ‘I start to play around with things. Music is so important to me and I’m incapable of doing the kind of magic Michael does, but I definitely like to express it, try to get it out so I can find things.’ Abrams would communicate his ideas in this manner, with words and music, then Giacchino would record versions of temp tracks and deliver them for use during the edit, so the score ‘was informing the cut of the film as much as the other way around’.
Since Mission: Impossible III, Giacchino has earned a reputation as a worthy inheritor of iconic film scores. Jerry Goldsmith’s music for Planet of the Apes was bequeathed to him for the reboots Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (2014) and War for the Planet of the Apes (2017) – and, incidentally, Abrams has described the original Planet of the Apes as the film that changed his life. Giacchino has also been given the keys to two of John Williams’ musical kingdoms: Jurassic Park, for films Jurassic World (2015) and Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018), and, perhaps even more daunting, Star Wars for Rogue One: A Star Wars Story. Big shoes to fill is an understatement, but Giacchino has gained recognition from fans and critics for balancing creativity with a genuine respect for the original material. The same can also be said of Abrams, as both men have approached the challenge of remaking, or rebooting, film franchises with a strong appreciation of the original.
One franchise in particular stands out due to its long-standing success in both television and film, and its revered musical legacy by great composers including Jerry Goldsmith and James Horner, not to mention the impeccable TV theme by Alexander Courage: Star Trek.
As his work on Mission: Impossible III was coming to an end and he heard whispers about Star Trek (2009), Giacchino found it hard to believe he might actually be involved in a reboot of this cherished series, in what would be the eleventh film in the franchise. Star Trek is nothing short of a cult phenomenon – after all, few popular shows can boast their own constructed language – and for over more than half a century, Trekkies have been treated to a variety of television series, spin-offs and films about the USS Enterprise.
A fan from childhood, the composer tried to keep a clear head during initial discussions: ‘As with anything, until it happens, I try not to get too excited about it, because anything goes south in this town very quickly . . . but I have to say, J.J. has great instincts and a great track record . . . It’s no wonder they went to somebody like him to take it, respect it, but also do something different with it.’
Abrams’ aim was to bring the story back to the basic elements that had made the show popular in the first place and, along with writers Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman, he created an origin story for James T. Kirk and Spock, albeit one with an alternate timeline. Fittingly, Abrams showed early footage of his first Star Trek in the same screening room in Paramount Studios where, as a thirteen-year-old, he had watched Star Trek: The Motion Picture along with his television producer father when it was unveiled to a select audience by director Robert Wise.
Giacchino initially struggled under self-imposed pressure, aware that he was inheriting the Star Trek baton from a range of composers who had each contributed an individual vision to the franchise. He felt the need to honour their work in his music: ‘When I first started working on Star Trek, it was the hardest thing I had ever done because there were all these expectations, many of them fabricated in my own head . . . I wrote about twenty themes . . . and each and every one of them may have been nice musically, but just never felt like our Star Trek.’ He would play his work to the director, who shared his concerns: ‘J.J. kept saying, “I like it but it doesn’t feel like our Star Trek”, and we were all struggling to figure out what was “our” Star Trek. We didn’t know because we were so hung up on everything that came before that was Star Trek.’
With both director and composer at a rare creative impasse, it took another regular collaborator, co-producer Damon Lindelof, to offer a new perspective: ‘He said, “Think about this as a story between two people who meet, become the best of friends and then are going to spend the rest of their life together on these incredible adventures. They’re going to get to know each other and they’re going to not be able to live without each other by the end of it.” . . . And at that point I just let go of everything that was Star Trek.’ The resulting score was hailed by Abrams, and Giacchino recalls feeling that the whole experience was a ‘huge lesson for me’.
Listening to the music now, there’s no hint of the internal battle the composer went through. Two highlights – ‘Enterprising Young Men’ and ‘That New Car Smell’ – are so self-assured, with their brass fanfares and triumphant resolutions, it’s hard to believe he felt any pressure at all. Another piece, ‘Labor of Love’, is the heart-breaking musical accompaniment to a scene when the USS Kelvin is being attacked. First officer George Kirk sacrifices himself to ensure his wife and child survive and Giacchino chose to focus on the personal sadness rather than pen a typical ‘action’ cue.
However, there remained the matter of the original television theme. Should Giacchino incorporate the famous tune within the score, as he had been able to do with Schifrin’s work in Mission: Impossible III? He discussed it at length with Abrams: both wanted to include it somehow, but felt that it didn’t fit into the actual film that they were making. As Giacchino puts it, ‘It’s a very particular type of theme and it needs a certain sort of scene to work and we just didn’t have that.’ Their solution was to use it for the end credits, which gave them the freedom to ‘do it as big as we’ve ever heard it and make it a celebration of what Star Trek is and where it came from . . . There’s a hint of the opening tunes in one cue, but it’s just a hint – and then at the end you get this huge version of that Alexander Courage theme which I love so much, and it was fun to mash that up with my theme as well. It was just our way of saying thank you to those guys who did that show.’
One aspect of Giacchino’s approach wasn’t wholly appreciated by the fans, however: ‘If you know anything about my soundtrack CDs, they all have these crazy titles that my music editors and I come up with. We do insane, funny titles that are puns, and I remember after the Star Trek album was released, on some of the message boards there were some arguments about whether or not I should have done that on Star Trek. People were saying, “Does he not take this seriously? This is Star Trek!”’
Each to their own. For many, the wordplay within Giacchino’s scores is a delight. Playful, goofy, sometimes smart and mostly ridiculous – think ‘Nero Sighted’ from Star Trek, ‘Brigadoom’ from Star Trek: Into Darkness and ‘A Swarm Reception’ from Star Trek Beyond, and that’s just the tip of the pun iceberg. Perhaps part of his strength is that he doesn’t take his job too seriously, or rather he knows to remind himself to keep enjoying it. He may however have learned a lesson from the Trekkies when he named the music for Rogue One: A Star Wars Story because the official titles are comparatively conventional, although he couldn’t resist creating an alternative track listing, including ‘Takes One to Rogue One’ and ‘Live and Let Jedi’.
It may be tempting to dismiss Abrams’ and Giacchino’s film collaborations as a series of reboots or inventive contributions to blockbuster franchises rather than anything more ambitious, but one original project suggests otherwise. Super 8 (2011) is a stand-alone, coming-of-age film that pays homage to the sci-fi films of their childhood, most notably the works of Steven Spielberg such as E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. How perfect, then, for their inspiration to get on board and co-produce it. Looking back, it might seem as though that was all part of their plan, but Giacchino is keen to point out that that’s far from the truth. When Spielberg att
ended the recording sessions, ‘J.J. and I would look at each other and go, “Can you believe this? This is crazy that we’re sitting here and Steven’s right over there. He’s standing right there!”’
The story of teenagers who are filming a homemade movie when a mysterious presence enters their town, Super 8 is a nostalgic sci-fi thriller, made with love. Abrams showed Giacchino the script early on and they discussed the music, scene by scene, before shooting had even begun. Just as the film pays tribute to Spielberg, the score is clearly imbued with respect for John Williams’ 1980s works, and with its sense of childlike wonder and nostalgia, it feels instantly recognisable. Of all his film scores for Abrams, this is perhaps the most satisfying as a stand-alone listen, combining sweeping, cinematic orchestral cues with an openly referential nod to Williams, and it feels like a heartfelt thank you to both the director and composer. As Giacchino said of Spielberg, ‘We all have people that as a kid we looked up to and loved, and never did I think I would be lucky enough to actually be there working with him.’ When he conducted a performance of one of the score’s stand-out tracks, ‘Letting Go’, at his own fiftieth-birthday concert at the Royal Albert Hall in October 2017, the footage of his early films accompanied the music, and watching a young Giacchino and friends re-enacting scenes from E.T. and Raiders of the Lost Ark, it was clear how personal a project this film had been.
The composer had a cameo role in Super 8 as Deputy Crawford, and another on-screen part in Abrams’ later film, Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Some believed the director cast the composer as First Order Stormtrooper FN-3181, seen briefly during the opening sequence of the film, as an apology for not hiring him to score the movie, but this would not have been necessary. Giacchino explained in 2015, before the release of the film: ‘As a fan of the series, I want to go into the theatre and hear Star Wars music, which means John Williams needs to write it.’ Abrams will be back behind the camera for Episode IX, due for release in December 2019, and there must be a likelihood of Giacchino being involved in some capacity, either on or off the screen.
Williams’ and Spielberg’s long-standing collaboration has thrived despite – or perhaps because of – the composer’s great achievements with other directors, most notably with George Lucas on Star Wars. In the same vein, Giacchino’s extensive extra-curricular work, particularly on Disney Pixar films, has arguably injected freshness into his partnership with Abrams. Both director and composer are talented storytellers, adept at developing existing franchises as well as creating original works, and more unusually they both have experience in film-making and film scoring so each has a proper understanding of the different skills required. Abrams has described his composing work as a ‘hobby’ in comparison to Giacchino’s, yet his respect for movie music is central to their collaboration because he fully appreciates the significant role it plays: ‘If you remove the music the film doesn’t exist the way it does normally, but if you remove the film you can still feel the story.’
Perhaps most crucially, Abrams and Giacchino treat their audiences with respect, which is particularly vital in the world of remakes and reboots as they are inheriting stories and characters that are already beloved. They are self-confessed movie nerds who can relate to passionate fans because they belong in that world too, and they are mindful of not abusing their position of power by adding to the canon of, say, Star Trek, with a story that doesn’t meet expectations. As the composer notes, ‘We still have this very boyish quality about what we do’, and the combination of this with their impressive work ethic and limitless creativity is extraordinarily powerful.
On stage for Giacchino’s fiftieth-birthday concert, Abrams described the composer’s scores as a ‘litmus test’ for him as a director: if the music doesn’t fit a scene, he knows the scene is at fault and needs more work, not the other way around. Giacchino attributes their harmonious and successful partnership to an honesty pact they made, which allows them to raise and address concerns: ‘When you stop listening to other people, when you think that, no, your idea is the only good idea, that’s when you find yourself in trouble because that is a terrible place to be. J.J. and I have talked about this many times over the years and . . . we will always be honest with each other, no matter what it is, because it’s not personal . . . Sometimes it will change, sometimes it doesn’t, but it’s being able to have that open dialogue that is so important.’ Abrams praises the ease of their working relationship: ‘There is an absolute fluidity, there’s an effortlessness to it.’ Giacchino pinpoints the end result: ‘True collaboration is what makes things better.’
Collaboration History
Alias (2001–6), created by Abrams
Lost (2004–10), co-created by Abrams
Mission: Impossible III (2006), directed and co-written by Abrams
Fringe (2008), co-created by Abrams
Cloverfield (2008), co-produced by Abrams
Star Trek (2009), directed and co-produced by Abrams
Super 8 (2011), directed, written and co-produced by Abrams
Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol (2011), co-produced by Abrams
Star Trek: Into Darkness (2013), directed and co-produced by Abrams
Star Trek Beyond (2016), co-produced by Abrams
Suggested Playlist
Alias (season 2), Inferno
Lost (season 4), There’s No Place Like Home
Lost (final season), Moving On
Mission: Impossible III, Reparations
Mission: Impossible III, See You in the Sewer
Cloverfield, Roar! (Cloverfield Overture)
Star Trek, Labor of Love
Star Trek, That New Car Smell
Star Trek, Enterprising Young Men
Super 8, Letting Go
Super 8, Mom’s Necklace
Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol, Kremlin with Anticipation
Star Trek: Into Darkness, Kirk Enterprises
Star Trek: Into Darkness, The Kronos Wartet
Star Trek Beyond, Thank Your Lucky Star Date
Star Trek Beyond, Night on the Yorktown
‘Iconic’ is a word that’s used far too frequently in the world of cinema but when it comes to Alfred Hitchcock and Bernard Herrmann’s working partnership, nothing else does it justice. Theirs is the benchmark for every creative collaboration between director and composer, and perhaps its dramatic and abrupt ending serves to add to its status within movie-making history.
From The Trouble with Harry (1955) to Marnie (1964), Hitchcock and Herrmann, more often known as Hitch and Benny, worked on eight films together. Compared with some of the other collaborations in this book that may seem like a small number, but their impact and influence is vast. At the centre of their partnership is the unmatched sequential triumvirate of Vertigo (1958), North by Northwest (1959) and Psycho (1960), each considered to be among the finest films ever made. The score for one of their films, The Birds (1963), was far from typical, so the composer was credited as sound consultant, and what would have been their ninth project, Torn Curtain (1966), turned out to be their last when Hitchcock famously turned up at the recording sessions, argued with Herrmann and dismissed the orchestra.
The names of few directors and composers have become adjectives, but even if you’ve never seen a Hitchcock film, you’ll know about the shower scene in Psycho and those jabbing strings. You would have some idea about what a ‘Hitchcockian’ movie would entail: a suspense, a thriller, a story in which the audience should expect the unexpected. Plot twists, distractions, an ordinary character placed in an extraordinary situation, often involving mistaken identity – these are some of the Hitchcockian tropes that film scholars and movie fans alike have discussed over the decades, and continue to do so. In the same way, a ‘Herrmannesque’ score conjures intrigue and melodrama, foreboding and dread, and is able to evoke romance laced with disquiet. Many composers owe Herrmann a debt; nobody could do ‘unsettling’ quite like him.
Hitchcock and Herrmann had very different perso
nalities, and neither was famed for being the easiest to work with. The director has been described as an urbane East Londoner with an unflappable disposition and a meticulous approach to film-making. He was very much the boss of his films and had a reputation for testing his actors, likening them to ‘cattle’ in a series of interviews with the director François Truffaut, as well as being particularly controlling of his leading ladies. Herrmann was considered to be difficult, even cantankerous, and he tended to be in conflict with various studios, directors and other composers throughout his career. However, he was fiercely loyal to his friends, and those who knew him well viewed him as a real softie.
Despite their contrasting personalities, the two shared a similar sense of humour and an appreciation for the macabre. As their bond became closer, Hitchcock would invite Herrmann to see early rushes of his films, something he had never done before with composers. Instead of writing out detailed notes and musical directions, he would trust Herrmann to write something that would not just fit the scene, but elevate it.
This is the key to their success: they both understood the importance of music to a film and recognised that it could be used to express what is not overtly shown or spoken. With that, they redefined cinema.
Putting Herrmann’s collaboration with Hitchcock to one side, the composer would still have an enviable scoring CV, considering it’s bookended by two masterpieces: Citizen Kane (1941) and Taxi Driver (1976).
