It was Alfred Newman
who brought the American musical vernacular
into the cinema, and Bernard Herrmann
who brought a new idea of how to use
the orchestra in film scoring – and
how to record it. Between them, in their
own ways, they set about moving music
for film away from the predominantly
late-romantic European scores the émigré
composers, who had come to Hollywood
in the 1930s, were writing. They were
dragging the film score, kicking and
screaming, into the modern age.
Newman and Herrmann
shared a friendship which endured through
the years – no easy thing considering
Herrmann’s outspokenness and general
irascibility. John Williams has said
that "Friendship is a difficult
word to use with Benny, because there
were always adversarial aspects in every
Herrmann relationship. If they weren’t
there he put them there." (Steven
C Smith: A Heart at Fire’s Center
(University of California Press,
1991). When Newman retired as head of
music at 20th-Century Fox,
Herrmann’s longest professional association
came to an end, and he lost a valuable
ally. Fred Steiner believes that Newman
was responsible for Herrmann’s Hollywood
career (after the first Orson Welles
films). Alfred Newman was succeeded
at Fox by his brother Lionel, who had
an entirely different view of Herrmann,
"…he couldn’t write a tune to save
his ass.". One only has to think
of the Scène d’Amour in
Vertigo (1958) to see this as
an incredibly wrong-headed assessment
of the composer. Just listen to the
gorgeous lines for the woodwind and
strings in track 11 on this disk – Nefer-Nefer-Nefer
– to hear one of Herrmann’s long unfolding
melodies.
Alfred Newman was supposed
to score The Egyptian alone but
when the studio allowed only five weeks
for composition he knew that it was
an impossible task. Hearing of this,
Herrmann suggested that they collaborate.
After deciding who would score which
section they met only twice during the
period of composition but sent each
other what they wrote so as to ensure
a smooth transition from one composer’s
style to the other. Herrmann wrote most
of the music and on this disk there
are 19 cues by Herrmann (mostly in the
first half of the film) and 11 by Newman.
Despite their trying to keep a similarity
in style Herrmann’s fingerprints are
all over his cues – there’s the low
bass clarinets in unison, the menacing
stopped horns and the long, almost endless,
melodies - eat your heart out, Lionel
Newman! Oddly, I heard several references
to other Herrmann scores – there’s a
moment from Marnie (1964), two
reminders of Cape Fear (1962)
(both yet to come) and a wonderful sonority
straight out of Citizen Kane.
I’ve never noticed anything like
this in any of his other scores, but
they are mere moments and shouldn’t
be thought of as self-quotation. There’s
also little concession to writing exotic
music - some colourful percussion, and
augmented intervals is all we get. Herrmann
gives us a magnificent Danse Macabre
(track 26) – 90 seconds of his most
barbaric and frightening music.
Newman’s contribution
is more sober and conventional, sometimes
in the manner of his music for The
Robe (1953) but also finding deep
feeling and tenderness, as in Death
of Akhnaton (track 28).
The booklet is, as
usual with these Film Music Classics
issues, excellent: Jack Smith gives
detailed notes on each music track,
and John Morgan explains bow he came
to make his selection of 70 from the
100 minutes of music written for the
film. The chorus and orchestra couldn’t
be bettered and the recorded sound is
rich and full, with a terrifically sumptuous
bass. A most valuable addition to this
series.
Bob Briggs
Moscow Symphony Orchestra and Choir/William
Stromberg 
