Adapted from a 1975 novella, Bid Time Return by one of the 20th century’s greatest writers, Richard Matherson, Somewhere in Time has become a cult-classic of cinema, showcasing Matherson’s writing, Reeve’s talent as a romantic lead beyond Superman(he just IS Superman and always will be) and Jeannot Szwarc’s sensitive direction.
It’s a high concept story: a man wills himself back in time to find a woman he’s seen in an old photograph. The film is as pure as its premise and is shamelessly sentimental in its execution. Its colour palette is one of pastels, creams and whites(befitting a hazy 1912 summer by a lake) and its shot-composition often reflects the quiet dignity of paintings by the French Impressionists. It comfortably sits in that airbrushed, soft-focus, curly fonted era of media between 1976 and 1982 where unabashed sentimentality was applauded rather than shunned. It’s one of those rare occasions where the people working on it all had a common motivator; they were all enchanted by the story and wanted to see it made into a film. The passion is evident in all aspects from script to acting to camera work to music.
John Barry, known primarily for his work on many of the James Bonds, Out of Africa, Dances With Wolves and numerous other worthy Bafta and Oscar winners, was asked by friend Jane Seymour(the film’s love interest) to score the film as a favour to her. He saw the script and immediately signed on, taking a royalty percentage as a fee due to the film’s low budget.
His music for this film has become a favourite at both weddings and funerals. Listen for 30 seconds and you’ll see why. A gentle and melancholic flute begins the main theme, playing to the tenderness of feeling between the characters. Its humility gradually builds, like liquid, into sweeping strings, rising where it needs to and culminating in one of the most moving pieces of music to ever grace our screens. Barry’s score is pure magic; the melody moves so naturally and organically, going exactly where you want it to, never veering off course or jarring its listeners with sudden leaps in tone or tempo. If music can epitomise love, longing romance and grief, then this is it.
There is fear here too, though. Discords haunt the ‘Journey Back In Time,’ where Reeve is hypnotising his own consciousness, forcing it to travel back through the years: a battling of will against the fabric of time itself. Foreboding double bass motifs, insistent brass movements, eerie piano work and tremolo string clashes echo Barry’s work on Bond’s more sinister moments. They are familiar yet they fit perfectly; time travel is treated as something to be feared, as it should be.
‘Day Together’ begins with a cello whose mournful tones could challenge Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’s, before becoming something more joyous and then ethereal. Listening in isolation can show just how epic this score is, which may come as a surprise, given how small the film is in terms of scope and cast. This track is almost an overture, showcasing most of the film’s main musical themes.
In the novel, Elize’s favourite music is Mahler(Matherson’s original choice) However, this was changed to Rachmaninof’s Rhapsody On Theme Of Paganini, at Barry’s behest, as it was slower and blended seamlessly with his own work, which, I would argue, has such a level of humanity and pathos that Rachmaninof’s work pales by comparison.
Barry’s main theme for Somewhere In Time is all rooted around a perfectly judged major 7th, with the lower strings descending beneath, a staircase to the heart of the listener. His arrangement is just enough; he doesn’t over-do it and lets the melody breathe while allowing it to climb to its zenith with perfect orchestration around a minor crescendo movement that will burrow into your soul.
Warning: This film may destroy you. It will definitely haunt you for days in its small but intimate way. This is in no small part due to Barry’s score. It was the first score to be written after both his parents had died within a few months of one another, and this sense of unmanageable grief and loss bleeds through every note. This is the sound of a heart that has been broken and is now singing across time and memory. It is an emotionally exhausting score, but not for the usual reasons. It’s not high-octane or pulse-pounding. It doesn’t lurch from one style to another, nor is it percussive in any way. Its exhaustion comes from its decision to remain within one space, a lush soundscape of romance, sorrow and heartbreak, for its entirety. Apart from the odd moments of dark and discord, the music inhabits a single, sweeping, achingly passionate expanse. I usually dislike repetitive scores(Princess Mononoke’s initially beautiful theme is so overused that it becomes numbing by the end, in my opinion) but, on this occasion, the melody is so broad and flowing that it doesn’t need to do anything else but simply be there.
We live in an era where a film’s soundtrack plays second fiddle to the film itself, fulfilling its side-role of underscore to the seemingly more important on-screen action(seriously, just try to name a memorable score since 2005). Well, John Barry’s Somewhere In Time is very much an overscore, matching, enhancing and perhaps even surpassing what’s on screen. The film, as much as I love it, would not reach the heart-squeazingly raw heights of emotion it does without the brilliant and unforgettable score by one of cinema’s sorely missed greats.
Listen to the extended version here:
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