Danny Elfman: Wunderkind of Filmmusic
A profile by Frederic Silber
Fanfare, 1989
He has been known for over ten years by pop and rock audiences
for his boisterous work as the leader of the delightfully eccentric rock group
Oingo Boingo, but in the past four years Danny Elfman has become one of the
freshest, most innovative and highly sought after film composers in Hollywood.
Having followed (and reviewed) Elfman's soundtrack work from its very origins,
I recently had the pleasure of an extensive conversation with Elfman, whom I
found to be as personable and charming as he is knowledgeable and informed about
film music.
Although Elfman first came to prominance in film music circles
with his wonderful score for Pee-wee's Big Adventure in 1985, his first
film score was actually composed several years earlier, for Forbidden Zone,
a film Elfman describes as "very much a family project." In addition to his
brother Richard having written, directed, and produced the film, both Elfman's
father and grandfather appeared in the film, and Richard's wife was the art
director. The score was performed by an earlier incarnation of Oingo Boingo,
called the Mystic Knights of the Oingo Boingo, and although the score contained
a good deal of "pop" material that was an extension of what the Mystic Knights
had done on stage, Elfman estimates that there were a good thirty or fourty
minutes of instrumental music. "It was probably the first time I ever found
myself looking to other types of music for inspiration, like Erik Satie, and
it's probably the first time I brushed up against Nino Rota."
The specter of Nino Rota would come back several years later
as the guiding influence on Elfman's first major Hollywood score, Pee Wee's
Big Adventure, a surprise commercial and critical success, and, more importantly,
the beginning of the collaboration between Elfman and director Tim Burton. Citing
both Rota and Bernard Herrmann as his two big influences while growing up, Elfman
was able to utilize references to both mentors in the film. "I was looking for
a type of music that was very innocent and light. Bringing in the Nino Rota
element felt right for me, because his music had a deeply European/Italian flavor,
and I really wanted to find an appeal for Pee Wee that had nothing to
do with the country or place that he lived in, because the character was very
much out of synch as an American entity, and so I wanted to find something that
immediately put him over as something from another world living here. And the
innocent and European quality of the music was something that I just thought
would work." As for the Herrmann touch, Elfman was able to draw from that reservoir
in some of the film's more inspires dream sequences. "There was some strange
and wonderful music of Herrmann's that influenced me, in particular, Jason
and the Argonauts, The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad, and Mysterious
Island. I was enamored of those three, and I'm constantly touching on those
scores whenever I am in a fantasy element."
Ironically, when director Tim Burton and Paul Reubens (aka Pee
Wee Herman) first discussed the type of score they wanted for the film, the
names of both Rota and Herrmann had come up. That, combined with their interest
in a "non-traditional" film composer, led them to give the job to Elfman, who
had never done an orchestral score, an who had no experience or training in
that genre. "I thing they wanted to find a musical approach that wouldn't be
the obvious route for comedy. And I have a theory as to why I became known and
successful in that field, in that a lot of composers just don't know what to
do with comedy, that they really put their major efforts into serious, dramatic
films, and that they think comidies are something they can do in their sleep,
and that's pretty much been the tradition of American comedy music, ever since
the Jerry Lewis movies. so to really apply yourself towards a 'silly comedy'
is something that not a lot of composers will do. I just know that for me, Pee
Wee's Big Adventure was my first real film, and that I was giong to apply
myself one-hundred percent."
Elfman is also gracious and generous in citing the help he
received on the score. "This was a movie that had a lot of hip points
and a lot of precise timing, and Steve Bartek, tha guitarist for
Oingo Boingo, who worked as an arranger with me on Pee Wee's Big
Adventure, and has since become my orchestrator on my other films,
also helped me out a lot."
Elfman is quite cognizant of the importance of the critical acclaim
which greeted his first major score, in that, like Randy Newman's score for
Ragtime and Mark Knopfler's work on Local Hero, he had succeeded
in distancing himself from his "pop" work with Oingo Boingo. "I don't know how
I would have gotten my first scoring assognment if it hadn't been for Tim and
Paul. I would have continued to have been offered the types of films that I
had been getting up til then, 'pop' scores, most of which I detest."
Elfman scored the follow-up to Pee Wee's Big Adventure,
the rather lamentable Big Top Pee Wee. Despite the sorely missed touch
of director Tim Burton, Elfman once again fashioned a delightful score, giving
fuller vent to his penchant for Rota-like themes, especially given the film's
circus setting. "The most frustrating thing about the second Pee Wee film was
that I couldn't use any of the same themes from the first film, because each
was released by a different film company. I would really have loved to use the
main theme from the first film, which already contained the circus motif."
But Elfman and Burton were reunited, and spectacularly so, on
one of 1988's biggest hits, Beetlejuice, which not only was a terrific
film but which contained that year's finest film score (at least according to
one noted Fanfare critic). In addition to having a wildly comic/horrific
symphonic music, there was the wonderful inspiration of using calypso music
in the score. "That idea came from Tim. We had talked about using more claypso
in the score originally, but I felt that it was better just to use it only in
regard to the characters of the Maitlands and the type of music they listened
to, so that's why "Day-O" had a reason to be there, but not to really use it
in the score itself, because I always follow the images and when I looked at
the final version of the movie, it just didn't have a 'calypso' feel to it."
Elfman's genius in scoring comedies in general, and Beetlejuice in particular,
is not to call attention to the comic aspects of the film. "I always believe
in playing it straight, whether it's a funny scene or not."
One of Elfman's best scores, before Batman, was written
for a non-comedy, Wisdom, a box-office failure directed and written by
and starring Emelio Estevez, who at least had the good sense to hire Elfman
to do the music. "It was a real departure when I did it, which is why I wanted
to do it. Also, I liked Emelio, and I still do, and for me, as a composer, he's
the kind of person that's really fun to work with. Absolutely open to ideas
in any way, shape, or form. He doesn't have a lot of preconceptions. Also, the
reason I wanted to do the score was that it was to be all synthesizers, and
this was my chance to do my totally inorganic score, something all done on synthetic
instruments. It was also my first non-comedy and I really enjoied doing it.
There was a lot of music, which all had to be performed, and I had to do it,
and I'm not a very good keyboard player." When it was suggested that the score
compared favorably to the type of electronic scores created by Tangerine Dream,
Elfman claimed that not only would that have been unintentional, but that he
isn't much of a fan of the eclectic German band. "I think they are the Muzak
of comtemporary film music. The idea of composing cues without having seen the
film, and sending it to the director who simply lays it into the film, just
rubs me the wrong way." However, like the Dream's best scores, Elfman admits
to have been looking for something "very tribal and hyptnotic."
Elfman's next significant score was for another box-office smash,
Midnight Run. "Finally," Elfman exclaims, "after all those years, I was
asked to do a 'contemporary' score. If it had been my first movie, I wouldn;t
have done it, but by that time, it was my seventh or eighth film, and I had
pretty solidly established myself as an orchestral composer. In fact, I only
got calls for orchestral scores, so I figured I was safe at that point in doing
a comtemporary score, because i felt I wasn't in any danger of pigeon-holing
myself as a pop composer. But it was difficult. Marty Breast, the director,
is a real stickler for details, and he was unlike any director I have ever worked
with. He's the kind of guy who knows just exactly what he want. He doesn't know
how to tell you to do what he wants, but you keep doing it unless it suddenly
makes him go 'Yeah'. And he really hears things, I mean he's got better ears
than ninety percent of the musicians I know. So it was very difficult finding
the music to make Marty kick in and engage, so for a relatively simple score,
it took a lot of work. But the end result was a good experience, because I don't
mind getten beaten up by a director." The score contains elements of rock and
roll, and old-fashioned blues music, but solidly crafted in a Hollywood action
mode, proving that Elfman could definitely handle the more routine and standard
film assignments, as opposed to just the occasional oddball comedy.
After a rather negative experience scoring Scrooged, another
comedy with horror and fantasy elements, in which much of his music was either
not used or simply buried, Elfman began his most ambitious project to date,
Tim Burton's dark and ominous take on the Caped Crusader, Batman. It's difficult
to ascertain whether Elfman would have been offered the film without Burton,
despite his glowing reviews and growing reputation, since he was still very
much viewed as a Hollywood outsider. As should be expected by now, Elfman's
score is terrific, but in unexpected ways. Diametrically opposed to the John
Williams "Superman/Raiders/Star Wars" type of score, the music, like Burton's
film, is dark, gothic, labyrinthine. Much of the music is intense and brooding,
decidely unheroic. According to Elfman, there are several facets to the score.
"Certainly there is the darker side, which I was very attracted to. In a way,
it was coming full circle, in terms of doing what I always wanted to do. It
always surprised me that I became successful in comedy, because my own instincts
are very dark, and so after ten films, I was finally coming home to where I
always figured it i ever had my way, that's where I would start. I always thought
my first movies would be horror films, because I thought that was where my instincts
were the strongest. The comedies were fun, and gave me a chance to relax into
a style that I really liked, so by the time Batman rolled along, I had developed
a lot of confidence and didn't have a lot of those insecurities." Indeed, Elfman's
music for Batman may be all the more astounding for its self-assuredness, and
although at the time of my conversation with Elfman, the Prince songs from Batman
were getting a lot of airplay and attention, many film critics went out of their
way to praise Elfman's original score (evev though some, like Vincent Canby
in the New York Times mistakenly gave Prince credit for the original orchestral
music, much to Elfman's understandable annoyance). "To be fair," Elfman adds,
ever the diplomat, "three times in the score, I did an adaptation of the ballad
that Prince wrote, using four notes from it. Mainly because the producers knew
that the song wouldn't come in until the end credits, and they wanted me to
give some recognition of the notes." Although Elfman would have every right
to be irked by Warner Brother's extensive exploitation of the Prince songs from
the film (even though only three songs are actually heard in the film itself,
the remainder of the album being songs "inspired" by the film, and all of it
fairly mediocre at that, in this reviewer's opinion), issuing an album simultaneously
with the film's release, while Elfman's original score did not reach the stores
until the second week of August, nearly two months after the film's opening,
Elfman is pleased that the decision was made to release two separate soundtrack
albums, one just devoted to his orchestral score, rather than to find just one
or two tracks from his score buried on the Prince album.
Although the film is now a commercial blockbuster as well as a
critical success, and Elfman's contributions have been rightly
praised, there was still an enormous amount of nervousness on the
part of the producers regarding Elfman's employment. "Normally, the
only person I ever work with is the director. But hereI had the head
of production, and Jon Peters [one of the film's executive producers]
over my house, many times, playing the themes, mocking up pieces,
because they really wanted to be sure. Here they have this enormous
movie, an action/adventure film, the type of score thet I have never
done. And it's the type of score where one's first impulse, if it
weren't for Tim having chosen me, would be, 'Call John Williams.' So
I think they were all very nervous, and they wanted to be sure that I
wouldn't screw it up. Also, because the production schedule was so
late, and fast, by the time we got to orchestra, if I had screwed it
up, there would have been no way to fix it."
"It's when Jon first heard the heroic Batman theme, the
element that I think he thought I couldn't do, that he started to relax and
get into it. His attitude was, 'I know you can write a creepy, dark score, now
can you give us a stirring theme.' And my attitude towards the heroic side of
Batman was to approach it really simply, like a Max Steiner approach, to come
up with a very simple theme and use it in variations, and to even score it in
the same way that I would imagine Steiner scoring an adventure pirate film.
And when I played the theme foe jon, all of a sudden he jumped up, had this
huge smile on his face, and I knew I was home free."
One of the pleasantly surprising things about Elfman, considering
his youth and his background in rock and roll, is the ease with which
he can intelligently discuss the rich tradition of Hollywood film
music, and his familiarity with the tradition's masters. "I have been
a film buff all my life, and when I was younger, I spent every
weekend in a movie theater. So it was always my dream to be in film.
The only thing is, I never knew I had any musical talent at all, I
always imagined myself working toward being a director, by being a
cameraman, an editor, working up to cinematographer, some technial
element. I never saw myself as an actor, but I always wanted to work
in films. It is interesting that suddenly, when i was thirty-one or
thirty-two years old, and had well since lost that original childhood
dream, figuring that it would probably never happen, and here I am. I
had a very attentive attitude towards film music, always very
reverent, and although I didn't always know what I was listening to,
I found later, when I went back, I remembered a lot of things. Even
now, the way I get around my lack of training and technique is by
drawing on my having grown up in a world of movies. Very often, when
I'm not sure how to approach something, I say, 'How would I approach
this if I were thirteen years old, sitting in a theater, and watching
the movie?' In other words, what wouldmake me come alive?"
Perhaps because he is so honest about his lack of formal musical
training, and so generous with his praise of those who assist him in the preparation
of his film scores, Elfman has not always been taken seriously, or been treated
fairly, by some of his contemporaries. While it is somewhat understandable that
some of his scores would be overlooked, rightly or wrongly, due to the films
themselves, it was unbelievable that his score for Beetlejuice, surely
better than any of the five Oscar nominated scores for 1988, was never even
considered. And, when it is suggested that it will be very difficult for the
Academy members to ignore his superlative work on Batman, Elfman's response
is, "Just watch them. They don't like me." According to Elfman, the Hollywood
rumor mill has it that he doesn't write his own scores, he simply farms the
material out. "On Beetlejuice, people were giving credit to the guy who we brought
in at the very last second as a conductor, during the last three days of scoring.
They said, 'Oh yeah, that's Bill Ross, he wrote that.' And the same thing is
happening on Batman."
While it may be typical Hollywood behavior, it is shameful
nonetheless, because few, if any, should beable to doubt Elfman's
talents and abilities at this stage of the game. When asks whom he
admires among his film music contemporaries, Elfman is typically
restrained. "You know, I would rather avoid that, because the problem
is, if you start listing them, and I'm friends with many of them, I
inevitably forget someone." When pressed, however, Elfman relents. "I
will give you one name. If there is someone whose career I try to
emulate, and would love, over the course of the next thirty years, to
develop the kind of reputation he has, and someone whom I truly
admire, it's Morricone. The reason being is that you never know what
to expect from him, and that's what I strive for, even though I have
only been a film composer for four and a half years." And as soon as
he cites Morricone, you know how apt the analogy is, not so much in
terms of stylistic similarities (of which there are few), but in
terms of creativity, energy, diversity, and, last but not least, the
high quality of their respective scores.
As for the future, well, there will certainly be other projects
with director Burton, a collaboration which is as promising as earlier composer/director
combinations such as Morricone/Leone, Herrmann/Hitchcock, and Rota/Fellini.
"I know Tim's not always going to us me, I know his personality enough to know
he's going to want to try different ideas, different people. But I hope over
the course of a number of years that, even if we don't work together on some
films, we continue to bump into each other. Because I'm very curious to see
what he's going to do, and he's one of those people whose career I very much
frrl a connetion with. When I'm scoring his films, I'm not compromising myself,
only because what he wants is so close to the type of things I like to do. But
also because he drives me on in certain directions that are good for me. For
instance, the big fight at the end of Batman, being scored like a waltz.
Well, I would not have intuitively thought of scoring that scsne as a grand
waltz. It was an idea that Tim had. Now that's a very difficult scene, being
an action scene, and yet, my instincts were already telling me not to score
it like a traditional action scene. But it was Tim who immediately came up with
this waltz idea, something that wouldn't have occured to me automatically. And
it allowed me to be expressive in an area which would not have been my first
impulse, and I like that. I like being thrown challenges. But he won't go beyond
that. He'll throw me into an area, but he won't tell me specifically what to
do, and that's perfect. Tim puts me into areas that are very challenging and
fun to work with, and yet he allows me the creativity of figuring outhow to
make it come alive musically."
As for other directors he would like to work with:"It's funny,
you know, my agent and I were talking, and he said, give me a list of directors
you want to work with. So I gave him my list:David Lynch, who has his own composer;
the Coen brothers, who have their own composer. And then I listed Clive Barker
and Sam Raimi, and ironically, my next two scores are a Clive Barker film and
a Sam Raimi film, back-to-back. It should be an interesting experince, because
they are both very creative guys, and I've always been a big fan of Clive's
writing, and Sam Raimi is someone I admire, I think Evil Dead 2 is an
absolute classic. So I have these two very dark films coming up. Clive's movie
is more dark, romantic, and mythological as opposed to pure horror. The name
of his movie is Nightbreed, and it's a movie where the monsters in the
film actually become the good guys. And Raimi's film is called The Dark Man,
and it looks like a really fun film about a scientist being horribly disfigured
in an accident, and getting revenge on the people who ruined his life. Very
strange and very exciting. No comedy in either of them, so '89 is definitely
going to be my 'dark year'."
And so Elfman, whose macabre sense of homor and horror has already
served him frightenly well on numerous Oingo Boingo albums, as well as several
songs written and performed by him from various movies, some of which he didn't
score ("Weird Science" from the film of the same name; "No One Lives Forever"
from Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2; "Dead Man's Party" from Back to School),
finds himself breaking away from the types of scores on which he cut his teeth,
and gravitating toward his darker yet just as creative musical tendencies. Whether
his talent is recognized and rewarded by the Hollywood establishment at this
point in his career is relatively unimportant to the at times unduly modest
composer. "My theory," according to Danny Elfman, "is that I'm going to work
for ten years, and I'll start to get some recognition from the industry. But
they're going to be the very last ones."