It’s been thirty years since Braveheart was unleashed on the world, Mel Gibson’s film telling the story of the heroic English triumph over the Scottish terrorist William Wallace. While Gibson became a persona non grata (and then some) in later years, at this time he could really do no wrong and his sophomore directorial outing – combined with arguably his own finest performance, as Wallace – was incredibly popular at the time and remains so today.
1995 was quite the year for film music – a strong case could be made that no other calendar year has ever featured a greater array of genuine film music masterpieces. James Horner (who also did Apollo 13 that year!) provided the best of the lot with Braveheart, a contender when talking about the best thing he ever did. There was much talk at the time that he used Irish rather than Scottish pipes – the softer sound providing a more pleasant aesthetic (sorry to my Scottish readers) makes that decision very easy to understand. There was less talk at the time (presumably because people didn’t realise) that he used an Andean flute called a quena. Presumably this was because he was scoring a dramatic film and, as he always did, trying to find the right emotional tone (on this, more later).
Despite being an epic historical drama, there are parts of the score which are surprisingly subdued, particularly early on. Despite this, Horner introduces all of his main themes in the opening cues – and what an extraordinary set of themes it is. The main title cue brings what we can term the main theme, a stirring anthem; then in “A Gift of a Thistle” and “Wallace Courts Murron” we hear both parts of the famous love theme, sweet and tender and lilting as they come. This is expanded upon in the lengthy “The Secret Wedding”, a trademark piece of Horner romance more than capable of bringing a tear to the eye.
Fifteen minutes and five tracks in, we do arrive at the first real “action” material, “Attack on Murron”, reminiscent of similar passages in the previous year’s Legends of the Fall with the rousing brass and percussion. Suspense is then at hand in the surprisingly dissonant “Revenge”, with Japan joining the roster of geographic regions of no relevance to Braveheart but featuring in its music thanks to the arrival of Horner’s go-to instrument for such occasions, the shakuhachi flute. It’s worth noting how much electronic material has appeared throughout the score up to this point along with the orchestra, choir and soloists – but to my ears there’s nothing anachronistic about it, and none of it sounds inappropriate for the film.
It was John Barry rather than James Horner who stated the obvious when it comes to “ethnic” sounds – anyone watching a film can see where it’s set, when it’s set, what’s going on – so there’s no particular point in the composer highlighting that in the music. Better instead to focus on the characters, to increase the emotional connection between viewer and film. That’s not the only way of scoring a film of course (there are many), but it was Horner’s general approach and it would be putting it very mildly indeed to say that it served him well. So – Scottish or Irish, Peruvian or Japanese – whatever works. And this worked.
There’s a gorgeous, slow-paced take on the love theme in “Murron’s Burial” before the main theme grandly rises above a dissonant opening to “Making Plans / Gathering the Clans”. This takes us to one of the score’s most popular cues, “Sons of Scotland”, Horner utilising some familiar devices as a mass of percussion and brass with low-end piano provide a thunderous opening . After that, the music takes on a more contemplative feel even despite losing none of its power – and then, just after two minutes in, the main theme bursts forth on the strings for the first time, in glorious fashion. After this we finally get introduced the score’s final major theme, the freedom theme, an heroic piece representing the spirit of Wallace and his followers, an emotional powerhouse of a theme, often combined (as here) with a variant on the main theme.
In “The Battle of Stirling” a clarion call from the pipes rises over the militaristic percussion, later joined by abrasive electronics. It’s a really interesting, powerful sound – not the typical “historical epic” material which may have been expected at the time, but really very effective at creating the desired atmosphere (you barely even notice that it’s the main theme that briefly emerges at one point, such is the impact of the oppressive atmosphere Horner creates with his instrumental palette). Emerging from this sonic fog comes the freedom variant on the theme for a stunning close.
A love theme for the ages – a timeless classic
The pièce de résistance arrives in “For the Love of a Princess”, written for the album and showcasing the extraordinary love theme. Yes there’s a bit that is distractingly similar to Holst’s Neptune, but thirty years later I’ve listened to it so many times the distraction’s more likely to come when I’m listening to the Holst than the Horner. James Horner could write a melody as well as anyone – here, it’s the incredibly intricate orchestration that really sets it apart. The string playing that starts 2:26 into the cue, as its A-section gets its most rousing performance, gets me every time. This is a love theme for the ages – a timeless classic, one of the finest pieces of film music ever written.
After that emotional draining, Horner turns the tap up further with the elegiac strings that open “Falkirk”, before the piece goes through quite the dramatic journey – gently suggesting tragedy before blasting forth powerful action material centred around a brilliant little motif. It’s back to tragedy though in “Betrayal and Desolation”, a piece of music that could serve as the musical dictionary definition of its title. Horner wrings every piece of emotional that he possibly could out of it before we hear another of his trademarks – the chimes – joining when he blasts genuinely brilliant action music out of the ashes and it culminates in an incredible performance of the love theme.
The lengthy original album (which is what I have reviewed here) was massively popular when it was released, to the extent that a follow-up, “More Music from Braveheart”, was released afterwards. That release, featuring movie dialogue throughout, serves particularly well as a drinks coaster. In 2015, La-La Land Records put out a 2-CD set of the complete score – I must admit that I haven’t ever even listened to that, so perfect is the construction of the original album, but needless to say it was met with rave reviews.
“Mornay’s Dream” is a brief but particularly stirring cue built around a great heroic motif, before the jaunty “The Legend Spreads” treats us to a massive arrangement of the main theme over the top of a little jig. (If ever a piece of music sounds better when you listen to it than when you read the words someone writes about it…) Then, the lilting “The Princess Pleads for Wallace’s Life” presents the flip-side to the earlier “The Secret Wedding” – gossamer-thin, lilting music which takes the love theme in a slightly different direction.
“Freedom / The Execution / Bannockburn” (known simply as “The Freedom Theme” on some releases) is the second of the score’s all-time-great moments. This composer worked as a contemporary with many of the greatest who have ever plied the trade – what I think he did uniquely well was come up with these long-form pieces of music that play out as properly-constructed pieces while hitting all the drama and, in particular, emotional sync points demanded by the film. This piece is one of the greatest examples – the choral variant on the main theme and brief love theme interlude, before every musical emotional force known to humanity is unleashed at the listener seemingly at the same time as the freedom theme comes in – it’s simply incredible. And we’re still not done! There’s seven minutes of exquisite reprises of all the main themes left for the end credits.
I am writing these words on the tenth anniversary of James Horner’s tragic death. My appreciation of his music has only grown in that time, both on album and as it was written to be heard, in the films. Nobody scores films like James Horner any more – filmmakers don’t really want emotion, don’t really want big themes – it’s “old-fashioned”. But it was beautiful – this gentle, socially awkward man wrote music that moved a generation of filmgoers and continues to move the likes of me. Once you come to terms with his tendency to borrow music from the classics, and once you come to terms with the repetition and development of ideas throughout his career, there’s surely no denying that he was as good a film composer as we’ve ever had. I am aware that for some people, coming to those terms isn’t possible, and we all have our own reactions to such things which is fair enough – but wow, a score like Braveheart, this is truly special. It’s a masterpiece.
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