John, James, and Joe: Film Composer Retrospectives

Three albums I’ve been listening to regularly lately are each career-spanning retrospectives from major composers of film scores: 

• John Williams and Anne-Sophie Mutter’s Across the Stars (Deutsche Grammophon, 2019)

• James Newton Howard’s Night After Night: Music from the Movies of M. Night Shyamalan (Sony Classical, 2023)

• Joe Hisaishi’s A Symphonic Celebration: Music from the Studio Ghibli Films of Hayao Mizazaki (Deutsche Grammophon, 2023)

What I love about all three albums is that they aren’t “greatest hits” compilations that only pull together old recordings from across the artist’s discography. These are all brand-new recordings, and each composer has created new arrangements of his signature works for the occasion. 

For the Williams project, the organizing principle is that each composition has been selected and adapted to foreground violin soloist Mutter. Across the Stars is primarily a collaboration between a composer and a performer. But for the other two albums, the organizing principle is that each composition emerged from the composer’s collaborations with one director. So the Newton Howard retrospective is also a Shyamalan retrospective; the Hisaishi retrospective is also a Miyazaki retrospective. As much as I enjoy the Williams and Mutter album, this gives Night After Night and A Symphonic Celebration a richer subtext: these albums are celebrations of life-long creative partnerships, even friendships. 

This friendship element is particularly striking considering Night After Night. Miyazaki has an extraordinarily consistent track record for making good-to-great films, and it would be unsurprising if this inspired a complementary consistency of excellence from Hisaishi. But Shyamalan’s films fluctuate wildly in quality, and yet Newton Howard seems to have always done his best by them as if they were all destined to be classics. Night After Night doesn’t discriminate between music made for a masterpiece like Unbreakable and music made for a career blunder like The Last Airbender. Including one as well as the other on this album shows that Newton Howard valued then and values now all of his collaborations with Shyamalan. When two people enjoy working together and bring out the best in each other’s work, the critical or financial outcome of the project is irrelevant.

The Good King by Ghost Ship

One of the good things to come out of Mars Hill Church was that it gave birth to a number of Christian bands that, even after Mars Hill’s collapse, continued to produce music that is both theologically rich and stylistically eclectic. My favorite Mars Hill Bands are Citizens, Kings Kaleidoscope, and The Sing Team, but I also really like Ghost Ship’s debut album, The Good King (2013). One of the things I like about the album is its thematic unity. True to its title, every song is about Christ the Good King and His character and deeds. Even the songs not explicitly on this theme fit within this framework. The songs on the album are also, I am convinced, arranged as a chiasmus.

Tracks with asterisks after them (3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8) refer to Christ’s kingship, but the central track of the album, the turning point of the chiasmus, is entirely dedicated to enumerating His kingly attributes.

Tracks 1 and 11: “Mediator” and “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”

Christ the Good King is the intercessor through whom we are reconciled to God and through whom we pray to God.

Tracks 2 and 10: “Orion” and “Where Were You”

Both songs are based on Job 38. Christ the Good King is sovereign over all creation, yet also shows intimate concern for us.

Tracks 3* and 9: “Lion Man” and “Behold the Lamb of God”

Christ the Good King is both conquering lion and sacrificial lamb.

Tracks 4* and 8*: “Jude Doxology” and “The Gospel”

Christ the Good King is our savior, redeeming us from slavery to sin and death.

Tracks 5* and 7*: “Son of David” and “Holy, Holy, Holy”

Christ the Good King removes spiritual blindness so that we can see Him as He is. (In this rendition of “Holy, Holy, Holy,” a Trinitarian hymn, the last line is changed to place emphasis on God the Son as “King of kings.”) 

Track 6*: “The Truth”

“The Truth” at the heart of the album, thematically and numerically, is Christ the Good King. This King is “mighty,” “loving,” “sovereign,” and “faithful.”

Maybe You Should Give That Film/Book/Album a Second Chance

How many times have I been underwhelmed or upset by a first viewing of a film, or a first reading of a book, or a first listening of an album, only to be glad I gave it a second, third, fourth chance later on? 

For the past few years I have found this to be a helpful rule of thumb: so often, the first viewing/reading/listening is for finding out what the film/book/album is not. It isn’t until the second viewing/reading/listening that I can begin to appreciate what the film/book/album actually is. 

This rule of thumb is especially true if I come to the work with definite expectations. My disappointment with it will be directly proportional to how much it deviates from what I wanted it to be. But if I can get over how it doesn’t meet my terms and try to understand the work on its own terms, then a funny thing can happen: I become glad that it isn’t what I wanted it to be, because what it turns out to be is so much better.

Really, wouldn’t it be boring and dispiriting if my favorite band’s latest album, or my favorite film franchise’s latest sequel, or the book that multiple friends recommended I read, turned out to be exactly what I pictured in my head? The dissonance between expectation and reality can be a very good thing. I won’t gain or learn much of anything from familiarity and predictability.

This is not to say I should give everything that’s ever disappointed me a second chance. There are many works that, after a first viewing/reading/listening, I can fairly confidently predict will not be worth a second appraisal. But if a trusted friend or critic makes a compelling, plausible argument praising the work for something I didn’t notice in it, or if I suspect there’s more going on under the surface than I could comprehend at first, then I am willing to give it another try. More often than not, I’m thankful I did.

P.S. August 27: See Tim Lawrence’s elaboration on the above.