Why Music Makes Killing Easy [Spins and Needles]
R.C. Jara
|
In the year that this column has been published, the films I’ve covered so far boast a charming array of horror staples, such as eviscerations, beheadings, cannibalism, an epidemic of blood-puking zombies, stabbings, pre-9/11 butt rock fashion, a chimpanzee who is slick with a straight-razor, post-9/11 butt rock fashion, and more. The one thing tying these films together is the wonderful gift of the needle drop, itself determined by good taste and a studio’s willingness to pay those sweet music licensing fees.
Rewatching these films illustrated to me that horror has always been suited to the combination of popular music with the most horrific images one is likely to see. If we count Un Chien Andalou (and we should), its non-diegetic usage of Wagner’s “Tristan and Isolde” is as romantic as it is unsettling. These are qualities that Bernard Hermann no doubt took to heart when composing music for Hitchcock’s psycho-sexual classic Vertigo. Then there’s the best usage of Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake” to this day in Tod Browning’s 1931 Dracula, a piece which binds a chilling atmosphere to the film before we even get a hint of those inky shadows trailing dark corridors and that ever-so exotic armadillo.
Forcing classical music into the modern age, pioneering trans composer Wendy Carlos aided Stanley Kubrick in the construction of two of the best horror films ever released. To say that Carlos’ synth-based music is game-changing would be an understatement. Had Kubrick been granted a license to use Pink Floyd’s “Atom Heart Mother” the way he intended, A Clockwork Orange would feel like it was missing the distinctly menacing ambiance that accompanies Alex’s unbroken glare at the audience during the opening narration. No offense to the prog-rock outfit or their underrated epic, but nothing beats the act of defiling ol’ Ludwig Van’s “Ode to Joy” with a vocoder or the gloriously wicked rendition of Purcell’s March from “Music for the Funeral of Queen Mary”.
Carlos, along with producer Rachel Elkind, would expand her musical quotation of the 13th century “Dies Irae” for the main title of The Shining and go two for two on legendary horror movie soundtracks. I only wish Carlos’ Switched On Bach was more accessible so I could tell you all to stuff your head cavities with it.
Inspired curation of music in film speaks to symbiotic relationships across mediums. When popular music is used to embellish a film, it feels spontaneous and lived in. Horror, by nature, is a genre that snatches away the things we take for granted and slowly pulls them apart so that we see what they’re truly made of. To put a piece of music in a horror film thoughtfully is to create an emotional tether between it and the audience that goes beyond passive consumption. Recalling a conversation I had with a friend about Merle Haggard’s “Mama Tried” and its usage in The Strangers, their reaction to hearing a musician play the song live was a mix of anxiety and fear. The human in me was alarmed at the experience of being caught off guard in such a violent fashion. The horror fan in me thought: mission accomplished.
On the flip side, the most recognizable tracks on The Strangers: Prey at Night are trivial compared to the film’s most impactful scene, which makes better use of its score than anything else. It’s a matter of personal taste whether things land or not. It just tastes better coming from a filmmaker who really knows how to lay a nest in your psyche.
Many recent needle drops have leaned in a particularly cute direction, which does not always detract from the overall product. Andy Muschietti’s It balances emotional gratification from nostalgia and narrative drive in both the score and needle drops. The judgemental faces adorning a NKOTB poster that follow Ben as “Hangin’ Tough” plays in his head is a great callback to his encounter with Beverly early on. Hearing The Cure’s “Six Different Ways” melt into Benjamin Wallfisch’s achingly sweet music while the Losers work together is a dream for dorky goths everywhere. Likewise, there was a collective pop across horror Twitter (and Orange Cassidy fans) when Malignant first came out and we realized that Joseph Bishara’s score was slowly mutating into the Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind?” in a way that mirrors the mystique surrounding Gabriel.
Without a doubt, nostalgia as an emotional driver has taken complete hold of the current wave of slasher reboots and homages. The Final Girls’ usage of Kim Carnes’ “Bette Davis Eyes” grows increasingly meaningful in repetition, especially in a film that explores a cross-generational appreciation of music and movies. Tragedy Girls, by far the best Gen-Z slasher, has a completely opposite approach. The film’s icy relationship with music can be attributed to its role as background fodder aiding McKayla and Sadie in their roles as prominent content creators. And while certain songs catch fire with the public after seeing a viral TikTok video, the film quietly predicts the relegation of an entire profession as merely in service of an aesthetic for likes.
The world of slasher music does not just consist of throwbacks, however. Easily the best slasher of the last decade or so, Death Drop Gorgeous immerses its viewer in the heart of the queer art scene in Providence, RI. Paying tribute to legendary noise rock label Load Records, along with the inclusion of local bands and drag bars, the film is a giant love letter to the genre and the community from which it draws inspiration. It’s difficult to name any other recent slasher that takes absolute pride in where it comes from, while also committing to screen some of the nastiest bits of violence in this current wave. A film like Death Drop Gorgeous hardly comes around every minute in this “back to basics/for the fans/updated for modern sensibilities” climate of studio filmmaking. But that’s why we fuck heavily with the filthy indies! A beautifully written manifesto from co-director/scribe Brandon Parras showcases exactly why this film has earned its place in my heart from now till infinity.
Pop music and slasher movies may be the ultimate combination in horror. The subgenre is geared towards wide audience appeal and I can’t think of a simpler pleasure than seeing two women drive around getting stoned to “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper”, mouth-breathing maniac be damned. Similarly, there is something comforting about following a group of teens road-tripping at their own peril, music at high volume, only to get butchered in quick succession. Moments like this can be jarring.
Jeff Lieberman’s Just Before Dawn shows us this exact group of All-American youths traveling in an RV and listening to Blondie’s “Heart of Glass” as they venture away from the glamor of their personal lives and into the unforgiving wilderness ahead. It’s an oddball needle drop that is all but crushed by the atmosphere in Brad Fiedel’s oppressive score. That kind of restraint can be an asset to a film, reminding its audience that they’ve paid to be sequestered with their own unease for upwards of an hour and a half. And yet slashers can be tonally malleable in a way that allows for dorky modes of self-expression while jamming along to your favorite tracks.
Short of being a musical, a great selection of pop in your horror film is a surefire way to get asses shaking before scaring them completely off. We can juggle the silly with the sublime, but it’s been a while since movie soundtracks really captured the zeitgeist (whatever that means anymore). I lament the silent death of the “music inspired by” albums that fed entire generations, even when those songs didn’t feature prominently in the film itself. For a second it seemed like 21 Savage’s flip of “Hello Zepp” might have built a bridge toward a larger collab between elder noise rockers and trap artists. Alas, we shall see what the next Saw film holds and be rest assured that no matter what, Charlie Clouser will always deliver on those grimy metallic soundscapes. As for this column, wherever there is serendipity between a song and the themes of a given film, I’ll be there to make sure y’all know.
Categorized:Editorials News Spins And Needles
