Elmer Bernstein and the Tale of Three Westerns
In the late 1950s Elmer Bernstein composed music for four Westerns, three of which are still available: The Tin Star, Saddle the Wind, and The Magnificent Seven. As Hollywood grappled with increasing competition from television, especially in this genre, the Western was changing from the shoot-em-ups that entertained young audiences to more mature narratives. The emerging “psychological” or “adult” Western required music that would meet the needs of the emotional and dramatic intensity of the plot rather than simply mimic the action. My presentation this afternoon will examine each of these scores, the early two being particularly unfamiliar, as they offer insights on the musical trends in the Western, which are yet further inspired by Bernstein’s distinctive mannerisms.
The Tin Star is visually and musically related to traditional Westerns, rivaling High Noon in drama and psychological tension. Filmed in black and white, the plot features a young, inexperienced sheriff, Ben Owens (played by Anthony Perkins), who must capture bad guys, while dealing with critical townspeople and managing his own insecurities.
With the help of an itinerant bounty hunter, Morgan Hickman (played by Henry Fonda), he overcomes these complications and becomes a successful sheriff. In the meantime, Hickman learns a lesson in racial tolerance from Nona Mayfield (Betsy Palmer) and her half-Indian son, Kip (Michel Ray).
The overall conception of the score for The Tin Star fits well with its traditional approach to the visual. There is a classic main title theme, long stretches of unaccompanied action, and cues that, for the most part, function independently as dictated by what is happening on the screen. The main title theme, exclusively linked to the character of the bounty hunter, Hickman, is closely related to its diatonically-shaped predecessors, such as Shane, featuring an ascending melodic line that exhibits a folk-like simplicity.
The main theme returns at important dramatic moments, related to Hickman’s history. When he tells Nona about the loss of his family one evening, the main theme is heard played by a solo oboe, accompanied by strings, gently underscoring this quiet revelation. Later, as Hickman relates the history of a sheriff turned bounty hunter, we hear varied fragments of the main theme as a duet between the clarinet and bassoon. Gradually, the young sheriff, and the audience, become aware that Hickman is talking about his own experience, and at that point the main theme is heard in its entirety, played by solo English horn.
The theme is referenced again briefly toward the end of the film when Hickman captures the two outlaws (alive—thus shattering his evil bounty hunter image) and then it is stated completely as he rides off with his new family at the conclusion of the film. Initially representing Hickman’s bitterness and possibly guilt at having to become a bounty hunter to save his family (unsuccessfully as it turns out), as he re-tells his story and eventually redeems himself, the presentations of the theme transform from mournful to optimistic.
Bernstein includes typical Western action music in The Tin Star, although with his own unique enhancements, as exemplified in this scene. The galloping of the horse is emphasized by the driving rhythms, which are at times dotted (long-short-long-short) and at others times syncopated. The full brass instrumentation and the high strings heighten the excitement.
However, as we heard with the main title theme, Bernstein is most effective when he is subtle, such as when Kip, and then Hickman and the Sheriff track the murderers into the canyon. Interestingly, the more the tension builds, the fewer instruments we hear as Bernstein alternates percussion with solo woodwinds throughout the cue.
The percussion plays irregular rhythms, as though improvising, while the alternating solo winds play meandering melodic lines, often in counterpoint, which gradually ascend, following the steep climb of the characters. With the canyon as the visual backdrop, the solo instruments heighten the sense of isolation in the wilderness.
Bernstein would later describe his instrumentation as radical in its use of solo instruments. Referring to one of his earliest scores, Sudden Fear from 1952, Bernstein recalled that most classical film scores (such as those by Steiner and Waxman) were written in a “turn of the century, mid-European” style, characterized by what he labeled, a post-Tchaikovsky sound that relied heavily on tutti orchestration. “The idea of scoring a film where you recruit individual instruments, at that particular point in time in Hollywood at least, was unusual.” Bernstein’s imaginative and distinctive instrumental palettes were especially unusual in the Western, even five years later in The Tin Star.
Saddle the Wind, Bernstein’s next Western, is an odd film for a number of reasons. The narrative grapples with several of the expected Western themes: a retired gunfighter, the closing of the range, and even some leftover animosity related to the Civil War. Rod Serling, best known for The Twilight Zone TV series, was the screenwriter tasked with stitching all of these threads together. Finally, Saddle the Wind’s original score by Jeff Alexander had to be replaced due to post-production edits, which seem to have included substantial changes in the narrative. However, the scores share the same main title song by the popular songwriting duo, Jay Livingston and Ray Evans.
In later years Bernstein became very outspoken in his dislike of songs in the context of film scores. As with all music in a film, he felt that the song needed to serve a dramatic purpose and not just be inserted for monetary gain. Main title songs were extremely popular with those who had a financial interest in a film, as noted by an article in Variety, published May 1, 1957. Although the article does not cite any Westerns, it was common for the genre (especially after the success of High Noon, in 1952) and in many cases it was expected that the main title theme would have lyrics added to it, if it wasn’t conceived that way originally.
Unlike most title songs for Westerns, which typically use male voices to sing the song, the title for Saddle the Wind is sung by Julie London, the love interest in the film and also a popular singer known for her sultry, low voice. The title song, which is slow and melodically distant from the folksy tunes of most Western title songs, is more of a love song and only marginally connected to the film’s plot. Bernstein had no choice but to accept the song at the beginning of the film, yet he rarely uses the melody in his score.
Some times I’d like to saddle the wind
And ride to where you are.
We may meet in a valley or on a green hill,
Will I be yours? You know I will.
Dearest one, my place in the sun
Is by your side, I know.
So if I could, I’d saddle the wind;
Some starry night, I’ll saddle the wind,
and straight to your arms I’ll go.
Throughout the film, Bernstein contrasts the diatonic song melody with two chromatic motives, representing the evil that threatens the peaceful life of the retired gunfighter, Steve Sinclair (Robert Taylor). The first is connected with Larry Venables (Charles McGraw), another gunfighter who is looking to kill Steve, and the second is linked to Steve’s younger brother’s demented enjoyment of violence. Bernstein’s first cue in the film introduces us to Venables with a harsh melodic gesture in minor, cast in a threatening rhythm.
The second motive is heard every time brother Tony (played by John Cassavetes) uses his gun, and the first time we hear it, as he shoots at his reflection in the water, his insanity is almost tangible. The eerie chromatic motion played by the solo flute is reinforced by tremolos in the strings that reiterate three closely related notes. Snippets of this cue (“Tony’s Gun”) are featured prominently throughout the film where Tony acts violently. This includes the shooting of the rancher Ellison and Tony’s killing of their neighbor Deneen (Donald Crisp), as well as Tony’s own suicide.
As the film reaches its climax these two musical motives are used interchangeably, as Tony has become just as dangerous and threatening to Steve’s peace, as Venables.
If Bernstein had had the artistic freedom to compose his own main title theme, I suspect that he would have utilized the melody that accompanies the outdoor scenes and is associated with the ranch, its surrounding valley, and Steve’s desire to lead a quiet, peaceful existence. A diatonic lyrical melody, it is akin to those Bernstein would compose for later Westerns, featuring an ascending line that evokes a sense of grandeur, but without the active rhythms. We hear this theme first at the beginning of the film when Tony arrives home and we are caught up in the happy reunion. This theme also begins a long cue later in the film, after Tony’s actions have turned deadly, requiring Steve and Joan to get better acquainted. They ride into the hills accompanied by this sweeping melody.
As the scene continues they stop and have a lengthy conversation. The music changes as the mood shifts (often abruptly and awkwardly, leaving me to think that this scene went through a lot of editing); changing from hostility to apology to nostalgia, before they arrive at an understanding. Bernstein varies the texture in this cue and alternates between major and minor modalities to articulate the emotions. He also offers musical guides to aid in our understanding of the scene, as we encounter Joan’s “Saddle the Wind” melody, Tony’s crazy music, and finally a return to the initial theme, with transitional music often assembled from this melody. Ultimately, the music provides some cohesion as it distracts us from the odd back and forth (visually as well as in the dialogue).
Bernstein’s score for The Magnificent Seven (a better film all the way around) is much stronger. The music is extremely prominent (some critics felt it was TOO loud) and almost continuous, with only a few strategic scenes that lack accompaniment. The Magnificent Seven established Bernstein’s preferred method for scoring Westerns; one that he would adhere to for all of John Wayne’s, with the exception of his last one, The Shootist. This includes a large orchestral force, active and syncopated rhythms, and characteristic themes during outdoor scenes where there is action but no dialogue.
Years later Bernstein explained that the score for The Magnificent Seven served two purposes: first, to provide ambient music and second, “to push the scene” — to keep the action going when the visual was relatively slow. Because so much of the film is about the Mexican villagers and their tormentors, Bernstein uses a great deal of tone color related to that ethnicity. Guitar, castanets, marimba, high flutes, and log drums all contribute to the “south of the Border” soundscape that contrasts with the “Americana” sound of the Seven. Bernstein also felt that the music needed to accelerate the action, since without the music much of the pacing was slow; hence the driving rhythms that are so prevalent in this score.
No doubt many of you are already familiar with the main thematic material in this film, so I am going to focus my commentary on a less obvious aspect of the score. Caught in the middle of the conflict between Calvera’s men on the one hand, and the seven heroes who are helping the Mexican villagers on the other is Chico (played by Horst Buchholz). Chico wants to be a gunfighter, like the seven, and during the course of the film he shows that he has courage and skill. Ultimately, we discover that he is from a farming village, much like the one they are trying to help, and at the end of the film Chico realizes that gunfighting may not be as glamorous as he thought, and so he remains with the villagers. Without this character, the overall story would have been simpler and even slightly mundane.
All of the characters in the film learn something about themselves, but no one as much as Chico. For him it is a life-altering experience, and for this reason Bernstein highlights Chico’s development by underscoring his role with distinctively unique music, often played by guitar (connecting him to his culture). We are introduced to Chico’s motive during the funeral cue at the beginning, when we see Chico following the wagon.
[The only cue on the soundtrack that includes Chico’s music is “Toro.” This audio clip is from that track.]
The melody consists of a gently descending line that spans a diminished fifth followed by a return to the top note that resolves to the fifth. (The first time we hear it, it descends from F-sharp to C then leaps back to the F-sharp followed by a resolution to G.) The overall sound is like that of an appoggiatura or embellishment with a Latin tinge. When Chico is rejected as a potential candidate for the seven, he tries to shoot it out with Chris (Yul Brynner) in the saloon, but only ends up embarrassing himself and passing out. As he does so a guitar gently plucks his motive, followed by a solo violin playing a sad melody, and then a quiet string version of his motive.
The next time we hear it is when Chico gives his speech to the villagers. At first Chico’s motive is heard on a guitar, as in the saloon, reminding us of his recent failure. But as his anger at the villagers surfaces, it is re-stated in the middle strings in a somewhat menacing fashion and the final time it takes on a heroic tinge, with added percussion. When Chico finishes his speech we hear a reference to the main title as Chris states, “Now we are seven.”
The motive returns at other moments in the film, always linked to Chico. After the Seven have been ambushed by Calvera’s men and taken out of the village, Chico makes one more speech. This time his motive is reiterated in solo instruments, overlapping, evoking the frustration and anger Chico feels.
In the end, as Chris points out in the dialogue, it is the farmers, and Chico, who win. Eli Wallach, who played Calvera and learned how to ride on location, later commented, “I only wish I had heard that music when I was riding that [blank] [blank] horse. I would have ridden better!” With Bernstein’s music, one suspects that all actors would perform better if they heard it. As these three scores demonstrate, whether composing in a traditional vein; constrained by a lackluster script and a nuisance title song; or handed a solid film and given carte blanche, Bernstein’s attention to the function of the music, combined with his creative scoring style, resulted in three scores that complement the developing Western.
I will let Bernstein have the final word:
“Music becomes very important to motion pictures because while you’re looking at a film and while you’re listening to the words, there is another element...which is reaching you only at an emotional level. That is, if it is well done.”
But I emphasize his last phrase, “If it is well done.” I would assert that Bernstein’s film scores are all that and more.