Last week, I gushed about why I love soundtrack so much; this week I want to talk about some of my favorite examples of it. To narrow it down, I restricted myself to movies made after 2000, and (with one exception) used examples of non-diegetic music– music that the audience can recognize as being played outside of the story, not within it.
My first choice is one I actually talked about last week– the final scene in Sofia Coppola’s 2003 Lost in Translation.
This scene creates a really nice contrast with the opening of the movie: a montage of Bill Murray’s character Bob arriving in Tokyo, late at night. The neon signs and are hectic and overwhelming and in the dark you feel lost– it’s hard to get a bearing on what the city actually looks like. Now, at the end, Bob’s (and Charlotte’s) internal conflict has been solved and everything seems clear now: the city in the early evening light appears much more human and less intimidating. Jesus and the Mary Chain’s track “Just Like Honey” fleshes out the feelings in this scene perfectly. The lazy, dreamlike electric guitar is soothes the audience, but isn’t stuck in time. The bass drum creates forward motion; Bob and Charlotte are moving into the future, and into better versions of themselves.
The Royal Tenenbaums, “These Days”
Along with Quentin Tarantino, Wes Anderson is probably one of the modern directors most praised for their consistently amazing use of soundtrack. It was difficult to pick a favorite moment from all of his films, but I landed on a short but memorable scene from his third feature, The Royal Tenenbaums, set to Nico’s cover of “These Days.” This song, so filled with warmth and sadness and nostalgia is a perfect fit for the scene: a slow motion reunion of two characters with a history unknown to the audience. Both actors wear a poker-face, not giving any details about what the other could mean to them, but Nico’s crooning tells us all we need to know about the deep affection and sadness between these two.
Ex Machina, “Get Down Saturday Night”
Though diegetic, this soundtrack moment is too good for me to exclude. Up until this point, the film has been scored by quiet, ambient music designed to blend into the background but build tension at the same time. By the time this clip plays, Caleb and the audience have almost completely lost trust in his employer, Nathan, and the situation has begun to feel dangerous. Then out comes this incongruous, overwhelming dance scene set to Oliver Cheatham’s upbeat disco tune “Get Down Saturday Night.” This scene turns all expectation for the movie on its head. No one watching this film expects the sinister tech mogul to execute (amazingly, by the way) a disco routine with his maid. Like Caleb, the audience is left feeling shocked and almost horrified– along with a million other things. Every time I watch it, my mind scatters trying to figure out which way to feel: scared, uncomfortable, confused, nervous, amused? This overwhelming emotional dissonance snaps the viewer to attention. With this soundtrack selection, Garland doesn’t tell the audience how to feel: he challenges them to decide.