Evening of Movie Scores, While Tasty, Does Not a Meal Make

Movie music is art with a purpose, and that purpose is to make money.

History is full of classical composers who chased the almighty florin--think Mozart. But until the film industry beckoned, few had the chance to make a fortune writing anonymous background music instead of works for the concert or operatic stage.

A polished and entertaining feast of scores by some who have followed this path was offered Saturday evening by the Pacific Symphony Orchestra at Verizon Wireless Amphitheater in Irvine. Guest conductor Richard Kaufman led the musicians, cracked jokes and accompanied soloists and fireworks with wit and aplomb.

It was a lavish spectacle, lighthearted and beautifully produced for a large and appreciative audience.

But even for a pops concert, this was an insubstantial repast, like a meal made only of hors d’oeuvres. Among 21 pieces by 16 composers, most lasting only a minute or two, the weightiest was a brief Rachmaninoff-esque concerto for piano and theremin (an early electronic instrument) by Miklos Rozsa drawn from his score for Hitchcock’s “Spellbound.”

Kaufman chose some interesting pieces, to be sure. Among them were Elmer Bernstein’s “Magnificent Seven” theme, the prototypic Western soundtrack, and a comic mini-suite from his “Airplane” score, which features takeoffs on everything from “Jaws” to the 1812 Overture.

He also gave listeners a nice overview of the field, sampling composers ranging from the early Vienna-born masters--Max Steiner and Erich Wolfgang Korngold--to schlocky Henry Mancini and latter-day giants such as John Williams and Jerry Goldsmith.

Performances were fairly strong, with the orchestra’s principal trumpet, Burnette Dillon, turning in an especially impressive show.

Among the soloists, singer Bobbi Page was most notable for a spine-tingling rendition of “Over the Rainbow” from “Wizard of Oz.”

And in the Rozsa score, Wendy Chen was dazzling with the flashy but rather empty piano solo. The impassive Dr. Robert Froehner, a Dallas physician who is one of the world’s few remaining theremin players, entertained by waving his hands at the instrument to create its weird electronic tones.

And then it was over.

It’s no accident that movie music comes in small bits. These scores are meant to heighten emotions playing out on the big screen and by their nature make bold statements only in flourishes before retreating again to the background.

This isn’t to say that movie music can’t be good. The best practitioners show astonishing skill with melody, harmony and orchestration to make vivid art, far more direct and meaningful than much of the hyperintellectual doodling of “serious” modern composers.

Think, for example, how John Williams made us feel the wonder of Jurassic Park with the music accompanying us on the helicopter descending to Isla Nublar. Or how paranoid Bernard Herrmann made us with his agitated score--a real masterpiece of the genre--to Hitchcock’s “North by Northwest.”

But none of these works has anything larger to say or explores any substantial themes. And too often, because provoking emotion depends on use of techniques that are familiar to audiences, film composers must rely on predictable melodies and typecast instrumentation--noble horns, brash trumpets and singing violins--to achieve their effects.

So while it may be tempting to wonder if the real inheritors of the classical tradition have been quietly flourishing in Hollywood, despite the disdain of academics and stodgy conductors, it’s important to remember that movie music is limited in crucial ways. It enlivens the repertoire--but only in small doses, please.