I was administering the appropriate amount of ketchup to my KD recently when it hit me harder than a stubbed toe in the wee hours of a house full of family that the best part about macaroni and cheese is the always overlooked cheese portion of the Tuesday evening supper staple. Without the cheese all you’ve got is a bowl of wet noodles waiting to be transformed into a child’s art project. Likewise, I’ve often raved about the pleasures of ingesting a stack of well-prepared pancakes but without the sugary satisfaction of syrup, inhaling fried starch isn’t overly exciting. And that brings me to my long winded point that without music, specifically music composed by John Williams after proof reading what examples I’ve used, movies would have the potential to be as dry as the gas tank in my car.
What if “Jaws” never rolled out that eerily suspenseful two-note pattern whenever an unsuspecting beach-goer decided to go for a dip? Who hasn’t sat on the edge of a boat with their toes dangling just above the water line without a flash of dark wild eyes and rows of razor sharp teeth racing through their mind before jumping in and hoping things work out in your favour? Without such a phenomenal score, dollars to doughnuts we’d be a little more open to the idea of retaining giant oversized man eating great white sharks in our fish ponds instead of koi. Then again, that probably isn’t a well thought out idea either.
One of the most vile villains on the big screen is Darth Vader and it’s punctuated home because of “The Imperial March.” Without it, Darth seems like a guy you’d wanna have a beer with. He’s ambitious, driven, goal-oriented with a very dry sense of humour and a fashion sense all his own, but lay down those dark musical tones and you know that he’s one fellow you don’t want at your birthday party. Or as your waiter for that matter.
On the other side of that Hollywood coin Indiana Jones is a whip-wielding, artifact-seeking professor forever working toward the greater good of humanity, only after we’ve associated his character with the uplifting, boulder-riveting music that goes hand-in-hand. Subtract that musical aspect from his persona and you’re left with a man who wreaks havoc everywhere he goes, often sacrificing your personal safety for the safe return of a tattered yet pretty sweet looking hat.
Music in movies, it’s more powerful than an elevator full of people returning home from a chili eating contest. It’s the maker and breaker of moods, it’s the reason why we hail our heroes and love to vilify the villains. Music evokes emotion, unlike the emoji but we’ll save that for a later discussion. And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m attempting to sync up the music from “Close Encounters of the Third Kind: with the alphabet but so far I’ve only developed a fear of A, E, I, O, U, and sometimes Y.
And if you’ve got something on your mind, you can find Poncho weekday mornings on Medicine Hat’s Best Rock, 105.3 Rock. You can also track him down at 1053rock.ca or on Twitter @ponchoparker
