Music Composed by Dario Marianelli
Rating: **** 1/2

Last time I wrote about a Dario Marianelli score, the man was just breaking into Hollywood. His one-two punch of Brother’s Grimm and Pride and Prejudice in 2005 gave the film music community great reason to be excited. A few years later, and a few scores of both high and low profile later, he’s emerged as one of the most exciting composers working in the film industry, and his stunning work for Atonement may very well be the climax of his ascent. Here, everything that was unique about his music in the past comes to full fruition, and all of the stylistic idiosyncrasies that turned some off to his earlier work find the perfect context. The score may be attracting an equal measure of praise and disdain among film critics, but no work of art ever reached a level of brilliance unless it was brazen enough to polarize the critics at first.

Like the film, the score tends to oscillate between two major ideas; agitated minimalism for the unbalanced Briony character, and aching romance for the separated lovers. The former idea is the most immediately grabbing, and accordingly the score’s biggest source of controversy. Composed for piano, strings, and typewriter, the music vibrates with precision so obsessive that it seems ready to crumple apart at any moment. Melodically, the emerging theme is remarkably similar to the main theme from Marianelli’s previous score to a Joe Wright film, Pride and Prejudice, and the return of Jean-Yves Thibaudet at the piano certainly adds a familiar level of classical grace. But the unconventional presentation and dedicated psychological probing make this music much more than another go at period pastiche. A large part of that presentation lies in Marianelli’s unique juxtaposition of typewriter and keyboards. Now because this is music for a character who spends great amount of time at the typewriter, many have criticized the score for its obvious literal-mindedness. We’re used to diagetic sounds effects and nondiagetic music staying in separate worlds, which makes it hard for a composer to break the wall without seeming overtly gimmicky. Marianelli, however, isn’t content to let the typewriter serve as a gimmick. He treats the machine as an emotional viable instrument, and juxtaposes its unique timbres and rhythmic capabilities so perfectly against the piano that we almost forget associating the instrument with writing and not music. Almost being the key word. For ultimately, that lingering association we have with the typewriter becomes Marianelli’s greatest weapon. Everybody who’s ever sat down to write in anger, whether at a typewriter or a keyboard, has emotional connotation with the fast and furious sound of fingers clacking at keys. Marianelli exploits that emotional connotation, and the familiar timbre of those keys gives the typewriter a raw fierceness that couldn’t be achieved with traditional percussion. Of course, all of this would be worthless if the material wasn’t so musically effective by itself, but in pulling “real” sounds from the characters’ world into the musical world, Marianelli creates something that resonates with even more personal urgency. He isn’t the first person to break the wall between diagetic and nondiagetic music, but it’s been a long time since I’ve heard somebody pull the effect off without compromising pure, dramatic musicality.

The other side of the score is comparatively more conventional, but no less effective. When the picture turns its gaze away from Briony, it becomes a more traditional love-torn war story, and Marianelli responds with varying levels of restrained yearning and heartbreak. When I saw the film, I was less impressed with this material than the edgier material for Briony, but as I listen to the album now, I begin to realize that his more traditional romantic music is beautiful and meaningful in its own right. Two themes occupy most of the space here, one somber, stoic, and rhapsodic, and one warmer and more bittersweet. I was tempted to define one as the love theme and one as the war theme, but on further reflection, I realize that that definition doesn’t hold up – Marianelli uses both melodies to emphasis the tragedy of love and the tragedy of war, and alternates them more based on the appropriateness of the moment than on anything else. The more stoic theme gets its most notable treatment in “Love Letters,” an incredible cue that gives Thibaudet’s fingers a rhapsodic workout. The bittersweet themes comes to the forefront in “Elegy for Dunkirk,” easily one of the best cues composed this year. In the past, a sense of hollowness has often characterized the Marianelli’s music – the composer has frequently put great attention to detail in the higher and lower octaves while leaving a wide space in the middle where we traditionally expect the melody to play – an effect that’s often frustrated more traditional listeners. But with “Elegy for Dunkirk,” Marianelli makes perfect use of that stylistic habit, as the hollow space leaves a perfect window for the in-film choral performance of “Dear Lord and Master of Mankind.” As the composer’s own heartbreaking melody gathers strength throughout the string ensemble, the chorus softly drifts in and seems to miraculously fit into the empty space that’s been left for it. As others have noted, it never feels like Marianelli is writing his music around the hymn; rather, it feels like the hymn and the score harmonically fit together by some magical coincidence. At any rate, it’s an emotional powerhouse of a cue. Its melody returns for the film’s finale cue, “Denouement,” a piece that initially bothered me in the context of the film. At the time, I felt that the cue’s unabashed sadness and sentimentality forced a single interpretation on an ending that seemed to cry for multiple interpretations. Spending more time reflecting with the cue, however, has made me realize that the music’s fundamental bittersweetness holds true for the last scene no matter how you interpret it. I now can’t imagine the ending with any other music.

There’s much I still haven’t talked about, but I think you get the idea. I doubt there are many people reading this review who aren’t already familiar with Atonement’s musical accomplishments, but if you’re one of the few, get out from under your rock and find this score. It’s a meaningful, daring, elegant, beautiful, chilling, and ultimately heartbreaking musical experience. And as both an in-film score and an independent listening experience, I believe it’s the best score of 2007.

Music Composed and Produced by Dario Marianelli, Orchestrated by Dario Marianelli and Bejamin Wallfisch; Conducted by Benjamin Wallfisch; Music Recorded and Mixed by Nick Wollage; Label: Decca Records, Availability: In-print, U.S. Release Date: December 4, 2007.

01. Briony (1:46)
02. Robbie’s Note (3:07)
03. Two Figures by a Fountain (1:17)
04. Cee, You and Tea (2:27)
05. With My Own Eyes (4:41)
06. Farewell (3:32)
07. Love Letters (3:12)
08. The Half Killed (2:11)
09. Rescue Me (3:21)
10. Elegy for Dunkirk (4:16)
11. Come Back (4:28)
12. Denouement (2:29)
13. The Cottage on the Beach (3:25)
14. Atonement (5:24)
15. Clair de Lune (4:52)

Total Playing Time: 50:22