Andrew Powell is more familiar to pop music fans as one of the members and arrangers of The Alan Parsons Project.  This was a different direction than the start of his career performing with a number of symphony orchestras.  His composition studies included work with some of the more avant-garde composer of the day: Karlheinz Stockhausen and Gyorgi Ligeti.  He would be involved in the progressive rock scene which led to his mostly popular music career working as a producer on a host of important albums through the 1980s and 1990s.  His film scoring work focuses on two scores from the 1980s. Ladyhawke (1985) appeared on a La-La Land limited edition in 2015.  That was a certainly more high-profile film than his second score, the more intimate Rocket Gibralter (1988) now available on this new Intrada release.

Daniel Petrie’s (A Raisin in the Sun, Fort Apache the Bronx, Cocoon: The Return) intimate family drama focuses on a septuagenarian, Levi, played by Burt Lancaster, and his family that is gathering for his latest birthday.  Each of the adult children’s own issues and problems keep them focused more on themselves while the grandchildren seem to pick up on something significant about to happen.  Among a fairly strong cast, is a young Macauley Culkin in his debut feature film role.  In a story that might have become more macabre or bizarre, the audience is able to view the events closer to the eyes of the children.

The “Opening Titles” invite us into a simple, and reflective world.  It is beautifully scored with an opening harp idea that provides a bit of support for a flute motif which is answered with a warm cello line.  The melody is developed with delightful orchestral colors that allows for a mix of melancholy, warmth, and hope.  This gives way to an 1980s soft-rock sound of gentle keyboard thematic presentation which firmly dates us in “contemporary” mode (“Crow’s Voodoo Curveball is Back”).  There are many delightful little moments like the use of flutes in “The Grandchildren Cycle to the Beach” which creates a light moment of innocence which will become an important motif.  The music for Levi and the grandchildren is really some quite beautiful music with delicate wind colors and to the emotional narrative flow.  There is also good forward energy to add a sense of joy and excitement in places like “Fixing Up Rocket Gibralter.”  “Levi and Blues Lunch” has some nice acoustic guitar work in a more contemporary musical style.  For the more serious moments, Powell explores some slight string dissonance (“How Long Have I Got Hank”; “Levi’s Death”).  The final moments of the score feature some of the more dramatic and tension-filled moments with an almost Herrmann-like cue in “Taking Levi to Rocket Gibralter”.  These lead us to the musical support that builds toward the final Viking funeral.  In this way, the score demonstrates a set of three distinct stylistic approaches from the warm, nostalgic thematic ideas for Levi and the grandchildren, the more pop urban cues, and the final push of dramatic writing that is decidedly different in the final third of the score.  All of this comes to the fore in the final sequence and moving finale, “Preparing the Pyre/Chase Across the Beach/Levi’s Viking Funeral.”

The primary score presentation runs 38 minutes with an additional 10 cues of alternate material.  The thematic ideas here are engaging and the blend of pop and orchestral musical development works well.  The music certainly does a bit of pulling at the heartstrings without being too maudlin.  Rocket Gibralter is a wonderful little score the likes of which one hears and then wishes for a score release.  Intrada has made that possible for those who may have been touched by this film in their own childhood.  It is worth noting that the recording of the two different ensembles is somewhat noticeable here as it shifts between the two.  The music is filled with wonderful orchestral writing, thematic ideas that linger, and a sense of nostalgia and love that make the score quite engaging.  The shift in the final third allows Powell to demonstrate a variety of dramatic and intense underscoring work that reveals more of his skill as a composer, already apparent from his handling of the various solos and orchestral colors.  Like many good scores, it will have you wanting to take a look at this little late-80s independent film.

Intrada is releasing this as a limited edition of 500 units:  www.intrada.com.

Fans of Rachel Portman should be rejoicing at this new limited edition deluxe three-disc set of her work for The Storyteller (1987-88; 1991).  The edition is being released by Varese Sarabande,  Muppet creator Jim Henson was in the midst of many creative bursts in the 1980s that began by first wrapping The Muppet Show and moving into the fantasy worlds of The Dark Crystal (1982) and Labyrinth (1988).  In the middle of this fertile time, he produced Fraggle Rock which ran on HBO (1983-1987) becoming an important cultural touchpoint for those who were able to watch it on premium cable.  As Fraggle Rock was coming to a close, his daughter Lisa suggested a series that would be an anthology of stories steeped in mythology and folklore.  That idea would become The Storyteller.  John Hurt played the narrator who relates these tales to his rather cynical dog.  The series ran in the UK and appeared here on NBC first.  While reviews were stellar (it even received a Primetime Emmy) the series did not quite catch on and it was dropped from the latter’s schedule.  It would get a second chance on pay cable when HBO decided to run the series and even added a third set of stories, The Storyteller: Greek Myths (1991).

Composer Rachel Portman was in that early stage of her career where a great project would catapult her into more work.  Her first film, Privileged (1982) is remembered mostly for its introduction of Hugh Grant.  Other projects that followed were mostly made for TV movies.  The opportunity to work on a series with somewhat cinematic qualities was an important opportunity for her to demonstrate her craft and she would score all the episodes for both incarnations of the series.

She would write a deliciously mysterious “Main Title” with an opening flute line that gives way to a dark bass clarinet.  Varese opens the first disc with an extended version of this opening leaving disc two to open with the version featuring John Hurt’s narration.  Both discs for The Storyteller are bookended by title music, an “end title” for disc one, and then a shorter main title for disc two.  Disc Two also includes a couple of unused bumpers for the series.  The music is presented as suites (“A” and “B”) that essentially present the two halves of the episode.  These are presented in chronological order.  The music here encapsulates so much of what Portman’s music is known for overall.  Warm string writing, gorgeous melodies that are brilliantly shifted through different instrumental timbres, and that little minor third minimalist-like ostinato pattern.  These are on display throughout the music for “Hans the Hedgehog” which features a heart-melting flute theme and gorgeous soprano sax.  There is even a delightful fiddle jig that adds some folkish flair.  In “A Short Story”, Portman uses her end titles music as the thematic source developing here with these contrasts of darkness (bass clarinet) and magical light (celesta).  Some of the stories are equally creepy, beginning with Fearnot which adds to this with the use of Ondes Martenot and tremolo strings.  There is also a truly beautiful violin idea.  The Luck Child is perhaps one of the darker episodes and Portman creates the perfect atmosphere with the use of contrabassoon and an ethnic flute.  A light flute line is also used against a plodding trombone and strings for “The Heartless Giant.”  Disc two begins with the equally moving “The Soldier and Death” which features a plaintive oboe, a mysterious bass flute in its texture, and later organ.  The score tends to feature rich low woodwinds and adds a harp for a touch of magic.  French Horn becomes an important color connected in the story of “The True Bride” along with celesta.  For the more sinuous, and frightening tale of The Three Ravens Portman chose to use a cor anglaise which adds a deep, dark, reedy quality to the music.  The soprano sax returns for Sapsorrow which also features a truly beautiful waltz, and a nice little string quartet moment.  Throughout the series, the low bass clarinet often helps present the series main theme which creates a nice overall connection across the series.  There tends to be one amazing thematic surprise after another for Portman’s fans to rediscover.

Disc three focuses on music for The Greek Myths and is edited similarly with the two suites for each of the four episodes here.  The UK version is used to open the disc with the US one closing off the primary portion of the presentation.  A couple of brief “bonus” tracks are then added.  The theme here revisits the original with some slight color differences.  The paired suites here for these four episodes are slightly longer than those from the primary series.  However, the style and rich thematic content continues with a general darker mood across the different stories.  First up is Theseus and the Minotaur”. The score continues in the style of those from the previous series, adding trumpet here for its primary tonal color against strings and winds.  The second suite features some interesting folk music that has a more medieval/ancient quality.  Perseus and the Gorgon has some equally beautiful lyric writing that explores low flutes and oboe and adds a sense of danger with high clarinet following a somewhat more sinister melodic outline.  Piano is also added for an extra magical touch here.  That romantic piano and strings, with flute, quality opens Daedalus and Icarus, but this too soon shifts into dark undulating colors.  These two opposites of simple beauty and darker brooding are the primary contrasts of these scores.  The latter suite feels almost balletic in its structure.    The final set of suites follows the storied lovers Orpheus and Eurydice.  This opens with a rapid flute idea in a modal melodic idea that is then accompanied by other folk-like instrumental sounds and a style that was used earlier.  This one tends to rely more on simple solo instrumental statements though lending it a decidedly ancient character, even when the string orchestra and harp appear.  These add a deeper emotional warmth to the music while the “period” or “folk” moments provide the musical contrast.  Each of these little episodes features more gorgeous music that reveals how Portman’s music has coalesced into the sort of sound that would become noted throughout her work in the early 1990s culminating in her Oscar for Emma (1996).

Though a physical set was not submitted for review, the booklet that will be included was provided.  It is set up as a series of interview responses by the different creative forces involved.  These are organized into good succinct commentary that explores, the stories, the resulting mini films, the music—including brief commentary on each episode’s ideas; and the historical aspects of the primary series.  The information for The Greek Myths though is minimal.  Otherwise, it is a very well-done monument to this important moment of television history.  In a day of so much electronic generic writing, it is an amazing experience to sit back and enjoy the various ways Portman’s music warms these tales, adds an appropriate amount of emotional depth, and helps draw us into these fantasy worlds that blend aspects of darkness and light.  Each has an almost timeless quality to them which makes for an engaging, and rich, listening experience.