So, I’ve been thinking about Michael Horner’s music lately. You know, the guy who did the scores for some massive movies. It always sounded so grand, so perfectly matched to whatever was happening on screen.
For a long time, I kinda figured, “Hey, that’s neat, but how hard can it really be to put some music to a movie?” I mean, you get the feel, you plonk out a tune. Seemed straightforward enough if you had a bit of a musical ear, right?
Well, let me tell you about my own little adventure into the world of “film scoring.” It wasn’t for a Hollywood blockbuster, mind you. It was for my daughter’s preschool graduation video. They did this little play, all very cute, and I volunteered to put together a video with some background music. My wife thought it was a sweet idea. At first.
I got it in my head that I was gonna make it epic. I started listening to a bunch of Horner’s stuff for inspiration:
- Titanic, obviously.
- Braveheart, for those heroic moments.
- Apollo 13, for the dramatic tension.
I figured, okay, I’ll just capture that vibe. I had this old keyboard, hooked it up to my computer, got some free software that promised to make me a composer overnight. I was all set. I spent a Friday evening trying to get started. My first goal was a triumphant theme for when the kids all marched onto the stage in their tiny gowns.
What came out of my speakers sounded less like “triumph” and more like a cat walking across the keys after stepping in something sticky. It was awful. Just a jumble of notes that made no sense. I tweaked knobs, I watched a dozen tutorials, I tried again.
By Saturday afternoon, I was still at it. I was trying to get this emotional swell for when they showed baby pictures of each kid. I wanted tears! I got… plinky-plonky sounds that were more likely to cause headaches than heartfelt emotion. My daughter wandered in, listened for a minute, and asked if the computer was broken. That stung, gotta admit.
My wife, bless her, kept bringing me coffee and snacks, but I could see the look on her face. It was that “how much longer is this gonna take?” look. The “practice,” as I generously called it, was a total disaster. I managed to make something that was loud, and something that was quiet, but nothing that resembled actual music you’d want to listen to.
It was then, covered in frustration and probably a bit of coffee, that I really got it. What guys like Michael Horner did, it wasn’t just “coming up with a tune.” It was this whole other level of understanding. How instruments work together, how a melody can build and fall, how to create a mood with just sound. It’s not just art; it’s a serious craft, a really complex skill.
In the end, for the preschool video, I used some nice, simple, royalty-free piano music. It was lovely, and everyone was happy. No epic Horner-esque score from me, I’m afraid.
But that whole experience, that deep dive into trying and failing, it changed how I listen to film scores. Now, when I hear that perfectly timed crescendo or that haunting little melody, I just shake my head and think, “Wow.” I have so much more respect for the work involved. It’s not magic, it’s a ton of hard work and talent I just don’t possess in that area. And that’s okay. At least now I know.
