Music Composed by Alexandre Desplat
Rating: ****

Ever since American audiences discovered his lavish blend of romanticism and minimalism in The Girl with a Pearl Earring, the Hollywood career of André Desplat (French, I believe for “André of Splat”) has been on the rise. Many might call this a mixed blessing, of course, as his mainstream projects have arguably diluted much of his distinct and elegant voice. But for anyone who was less than thrilled with Desplat’s uber-restraint in Syriana or his genre slumming in Firewall, his latest score for The Queen should stand as a comfortable return to form. Here we find him once again outside of the Hollywood realm, sporting the signature neoclassical minimalism that’s perked so many ears of the film music community. And nowhere has his that signature been more appropriate than it is for this acclaimed Stephen Frears film, a character/political/cultural study of the clash between the British monarchy and the British government following Lady Di’s death. Here, Desplat’s musical merging of classical tradition and contemporary minimalism actually embodies that conflict between England’s traditional and contemporary values. At the same time, Desplat captures this clash in a restrained and elegant manner that is perfectly in keeping with the royal English decorum.

Alexandre Desplat

As such, this is not a score will immediately hit you over the head with everything it has to offer. A cursory glance may not reveal anything all that melodically memorable, but repeated listens will actually reveal an intricate level of thematic interaction. Perhaps the most immediately recognizable is the theme that opens the album, “The Queen”. It’s one of the score’s few warm nods, a sympathetic and stoically regal piece for horns and woodwinds that gracefully supports the film’s interpretation of the title character. The theme pops up intermittently throughout the album, although sometimes with more ominous undercurrents (“The Flowers of Buckingham”). As we’ll see, lacing dark with light is one of the dominating trends in this score.

A high-pitched synth pulse also augments a number of cues. The device is similar to the throbbing bass pulse in Birth, but with more of an upbeat, nervous effect – if Birth’s minimalism tended to draw from the most serene material from Philip Glass, The Queen’s minimalism tends to draw from the most frantic material from Stephen Reich. “The People’s Princess I” introduces the effect, along with several of the motifs that Desplat will weave throughout the rest of the score (among them, a deceptively jaunty harpsichord motif that will go through much darker variations later in the score, and a more classically-inclined and Bizet-flavored piano motif). The cue (along with it’s partner, “The People’s Princess II”) also may be the best example of Desplat’s approach to the conflict boiling beneath the surface of all the English propriety. The piece begins with a sprightly attitude, but gradually builds to something more chaotic and frantic without ever resorting to outright dissonance or sacrificing its basic form and structure.

That duality pretty much holds for the score in general. The music is rarely less than pleasant and graceful on the surface, but darker undercurrents run beneath everything. Even the seeming serenity of the regal court waltz, “Elizabeth and Tony,” is undercut by a gently menacing string counterpoint. And likewise, when the score does stray into more overtly anguished, lighter textures are never far behind. “Morning” features Desplat in the more muted string-driven approach to tragedy that we heard in Syriana, but the cue ultimately develops into something more playful and leads us right back to the subtle false niceties.

Granted, on rare occasions, he actually breaks into more extroverted strokes. “The Queen Drives” offers some rare dynamic material, setting “The People’s Princess” theme in a lush, driving scherzo that recalls the most impassioned and desperate moments of Bernard Herrmann’s Vertigo. For the most part, however, all of the drama is held at subterranean levels, and the score eventually fades with the quietly uneasy “Queen of Hearts” before the album concludes with an unfortunately ancient recording of Verdi’s “Libera Me.”

This is very much the sort of score that rewards patience and repeated listens. It never really resolves or builds to a point, but perhaps in this case that’s rather the point – the film only covers a small handful of years in extremely recent British history, essentially telling a story that we’re still only in the middle of. Desplat was probably right in not attempting to attach a false resolution to the story and allowing things to fade to the same ambiguous point that things stand at right now. This is not, admittedly, music that will move you to tears or overtly work over your emotions, but it is some of the most intelligent and hypnotic film music the year has seen so far. Those who associate Desplat for the more emotionally vulnerable Girl with a Pearl Earring or the dynamic Hostage may be left wanting, but anyone with a penchant for his more cerebral music will find much to savor.

Music Composed, Orchestrated & Conducted by Alexandre Desplat, Performed by The London Symphony Orchestra, Recorded and Mixed by Andre Dudman, Album Produced by Alexandre Desplat, Label: Milan Records (M2-36185), Availability: In-print, U.S. Release Date: September 26, 2006

01. The Queen (2′09)
02. Hills Of Scotland (2′25)
03. People’s Princess I (4′08)
04. A New Prime Minister (1′55)
05. H.R.H. (2′22)
06. The Stag (1′50)
07. Mourning (3′50)
08. Elizabeth & Tony (2′04)
09. River Of Sorrow (1′59)
10. The Flowers Of Buckingham (2′28)
11. The Queen Drives (1′48)
12. Night In Balmoral (1′09)
13. Tony & Elizabeth (2′04)
14. People’s Princess II (4′08)
15. Queen Of Hearts (3′33)
16. Libera Me (Verdi) (6′28)
Performed by Lynne Dawson
and The BBC Singers

Total Playing Time: 44′20