Andrew Stanton’s In the Blink of an Eye certainly doesn’t lack ambition, attempting to tell the story of humanity from its earliest days to its potential conclusion across three timelines (distant past, present and future) and providing connecting tissue between all three. It is bizarrely short for such an undertaking (barely 90 minutes long when you take the credits off) and as such can only scratch the surface of what it’s trying to show – the film has been sitting on the shelf for so long before its eventual dump straight to streaming, and it has received a critical mauling upon its final release.
While it falls short of what it could have been I didn’t think it was that bad, but after the box office disaster that beset his previous live-action movie (John Carter) I wonder if Stanton will be forced to stick to the safer territory of animation from now on (he is hardly starved of either critical acclaim or box office success in that medium).
One aspect of In the Blink of an Eye that was spared from the criticism is Thomas Newman’s score. One of his generation’s finest film composers, Newman made his name largely in the 1990s thanks to two main things – when the film called for it he could write traditional, orchestral music (full of his distinctive style) like anyone, but he was also an innovator – writing at times really very profoundly experimental music (including allowing his trusted set of instrumental collaborators to improvise within boundaries at times) which proved to be hugely influential across the industry, only Hans Zimmer having a greater impact on the way films are scored out of this generation of composers.
As he approaches his twilight years, it’s fair to say Newman has become a little more predictable: the signature sound is very much there, but the raw edges have been mostly smoothed out these days (though – as he proved not long ago with White Bird – he is as capable of orchestral magic as ever). As this film sat on the shelf for so long and not a great deal was known about it, there was much speculation about the kind of score Newman may have written: “sci-fi epic” was often used to describe it, leading some to hope for music grand in style, but of course it isn’t really that sort of film at all, instead considerably more cerebral and ultimately human-focused. So as it happens, he’s written a score which is very much in keeping with his modern sound – there are moments which recall Passengers, others Tolkein, along with the aforementioned White Bird.
While Newman does employ subtly different palettes for the three different time settings, the whole point of the film is to note how connected they are, so it’s no great surprise that the composer doesn’t make too much effort to distinguish them musically. For much of the album, the score is quite textural – very short harmonic progressions are used repeatedly in different settings, but it would be a stretch to say there is much of what you might call a “theme”. Indeed, particularly in the first couple of cues “Double Helix” and “Sickness” there is a hint of dissonance there. A wordless female voice is utilised to add an ethereal beauty and as the first few cues develop, more and more different textures start to be added, including the now-familiar array of Indian instruments that Newman often favours these days.
A pair of cues in the centre of the album signal a bit of a shift – first the particularly ethereal “Oxygen” which moves from charged atmospherics to twinkling sunlight and then the absolutely textbook 2020s Newman of “Time Passes”, which has a vibrant, portentous energy to it.
Much of this score is impressive if perhaps unspectacular but this all changes with a trio of stunning cues late on. First is “Since When”, which dances and dazzles with great beauty and an unmistakable sense of humanity (and features some trademark Newman horn writing). Last is “Joy x Remembrance”, a soothing piece full of emotion, the textures now all warm and positive and the piece’s conclusion is joyously rousing.
Best of all is “Good Fortune”, a track which will please all those who fell in love with Thomas Newman’s music 30-35 years ago thanks to the big orchestral stuff. While I note some social media commentary point to its fairly obvious inspiration (it has a strikingly similar sound to Brahms’s “Variations on a Theme by Haydn”), Newman manages to make it feel very much his own. It actually reminds me a little bit of the extraordinary end title piece he wrote for Little Children in the way he plays with a short motif in so many different ways across the track’s length, but it gets even bigger and is shot through with a sense of glorious optimism – it’s not exactly from nowhere but the contrast with the style of much of this score does make it stand out all the more. To be honest though – it would stand out anywhere, so good it is. I’ll say this dangerously early but surely there won’t be a more impressive piece of film music heard this year.
This is very much a score of two halves – the first is often ethereal, sometimes challenging, decent enough; the second shifts largely away from synthetic elements to a more orchestral focus (though not entirely) and it’s not just the three tracks I highlighted that impress, the whole of the final 25 minutes or so of the album is really very strong. No, Newman doesn’t really tread any new ground here, and the score isn’t as consistently impressive as White Bird to give a recent point of reference, but it’s always a joy to hear him do his thing and the good parts are so good, no fan of the composer will be disappointed.
Leave a Reply