When looking at the modern class of film composers, there are a few whose every work feels like a reason to celebrate. For me personally, that list has come to include: Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross, Justin Hurwitz, Nicholas Brittell, Daniel Lopatin, Daniel Pemberton, and one that has only recently popped up from his underdog status. Sure, anyone who has their eye on film will know his name very well, especially for those who anticipate every new Paul Thomas Anderson movie as much as I do. That’s right. For me personally, there are few composers who have had as intriguing or concise of a track record over the past 15 years quite like Jonny Greenwood.
It’s strange to say because I am not necessarily the biggest fan of Greenwood’s hub band Radiohead. While I have come to appreciate their approach to art-rock, I think it pales in comparison to what he does in the film world. With There Will Be Blood (2007), he presented himself as a force to be reckoned with, warping an orchestral score into an apocalyptic field of oil, leering with high-pitched strings and the sound of a man slowly losing his soul. As one of the decade’s best scores, it did plenty to allude to a future partnership with director Paul Thomas Anderson that nobody could’ve predicted being nearly as exciting as it ended up being.
In some respects, that’s because the 2010s have become arguably Anderson’s most creatively successful period of his career. With wilder stories that range from hallucinogenic cult stories to surfside noir, he has made cinema a more interesting place to live. Thankfully, Greenwood has been there every step of the way. With that said, he’s done other great collaborations in that time, worthy of celebrating. There’s a good chance that as another decade opens, he’ll only continue to dive further and further into the abstract, making music that ranks among the best of any given year.
So to celebrate his 49th birthday this past Thursday, now feels like a good time to look back on five of his best scores. It’s true that he doesn’t have as much to pull from as some composers, but that only means he’s more meticulous, able to craft something more timeless. You don’t have to see these movies to appreciate what he does with his soundscapes. Then again, you probably should just to know how perfectly his music fits these strange, strange worlds without ever skipping a beat.
1. Phantom Thread (2017)
After a full decade of collaborating with Anderson, Greenwood finally got the recognition that he definitely deserved. Not since There Will Be Blood has he crafted a score so rooted in the classical, making the strings pierce with melodrama and emotion, using percussion that sounds like shoes on wood floors. Everything comes across with a beautiful vibrancy that plays into what he does best. It’s a score full of small, tender moments with several recurring themes that rank among his very best, finding a warped story of marriage being given something as manic as the subtext of every verbal joust, determining who is winning on the tightrope of a string section. It’s so delicate that one may find trouble not falling off.
This was also the score that finally got Greenwood an overdue Oscar nomination. After failing to nominate him for There Will Be Blood on a bogus technicality, they finally recognized his ability to mix an eclectic pallet within something more grand and breathtaking, turning upper-class ennui into a rich tapestry (no pun intended) of ideas. It’s rarely bombastic, existing more around the corners of these reserved characters trying to understand each other. They want to break through, find the love theme that hides inside both of them. The issue is that it’s maybe too repressed to fully be drawn out.
The way that Greenwood punctuates these moments especially are some of his best work to date, managing to have heartwarming strings and flowing pianos blow through, finding a new peace in their relationship. Considering how eerie the score can sometimes be, the miracle of having it end on a high note is a miracle. Still, within the familiar is something fresh, something that has been reflective of the composer’s entire work up to this point. It’s the culmination of a career, setting the bar high for whatever partnerships he’ll form in the years to come.
2. You Were Never Really Here (2017)
Many are likely scratching their heads at me placing this particular score so high. After all, one could argue that his work with Anderson is far more consistent and enjoyable. However, I have to admit something, plain and simple: what he does here with director Lynne Ramsey is a miracle. The film itself is deconstructed to its very skeleton, only using what is necessary to tell a concrete story. Everything flows in a dreamlike madness, reflecting one man’s trauma as it comes back to haunt him repeatedly, making him feel like the fears are inescapable. No alleyway is safe. Before Joaquin Phoenix won an Oscar for Joker (2019), he did a much more compelling view of mental illness in this indie.
So, how do you compose a score for this ramshackle homage to Taxi Driver (1976)? Plain and simple, you make it as chaotic as possible. What follows is Greenwood’s interpretation of Phoenix’s inner monologue. There are the hazy strings, rising from the gutters and escaping to someplace better. Underneath is the rubble that is left behind. He incorporates everything from wild guitars to jangling sound effects such as car doors stuck in a perpetual state of trying to close. There’s an insecurity with this score, constantly putting the listener on edge even as the backing harmonies seek to calm.
The whole experience is a therapeutic journey into trauma, finding danger in a city that threatens to murder you at every turn. You’ll think that there is peace, but it’s mostly misleading. Anything that is beautiful may end up being sinister underneath. Rarely has Greenwood made a score that feels layered with misdirection, full of obstacles to find a bigger truth underneath. It may be less cohesive than the Anderson scores, but I’d argue this is his most underrated. His incorporation of literal scenery in mechanical distillation is brilliant and a perfect blend of trauma and trying to calm yourself amid the eternal madness.
3. The Master (2012)
Overall this film is one of the most formative experiences of my life, and I’d go so far as to argue that it’s Anderson’s best movie. The story of a man trying to learn how to love from a religious cult explores the pain of isolation and the never-ending search for truth. It’s a movie that takes place during World War II, finding a sailor constantly coming back to water imagery that mixes with a hallucinogenic undertone. Maybe he’s drunk. Maybe he’s being brainwashed. Who knows what is truly going on, but there is this sense that some clarity is coming the further into the postmodernist tone that things get.
That may explain why Greenwood’s score was an erratic departure from There Will Be Blood. Here he found something ominous in the peaceful notes, finding the hypnotism starting to take root in the score. It’s about slowly going deeper while pulling from 1940s pop, finding this balance of Americana that is simultaneously beautiful and unpleasant, finding a generation washed to sea, looking for answers that may never reveal themselves. Again, nobody can trust the beauty on the surface, having to deal with these lingering fears underneath, clopping after the last ounces of sanity.
It’s Anderson’s most experimental film and one whose tone is difficult to pin down. It’s intentionally weird, and it may be why the score feels so strange even in Greenwood’s filmography. It does plenty to warp the listener, making them feel like the images are melting, washing away, and turning the traditional drama into something more horrific. It’s difficult to pin down, especially as it captures the monotony of brainwashing in all of its perfection. Nobody really knows if it worked, but the score definitely solidifies Greenwood as more than a one-trick pony.
4. There Will Be Blood (2007)
With all due respect, this was a score that came out before I got into the music side of film. That isn’t to suggest that it’s bad, but my affection for it pales in comparison to everyone else. I had friends in college who claimed that they studied to this. I’m not denying that it works at creating something organic and full of a deeper meaning for the action, but this is just a score that I haven’t spent a lot of time with. I don’t have has as much infatuation for the various motifs and loud, piercing strings as most people. It’s good, but it has never been my go-to Greenwood choice.
This isn’t to say that it’s a bad movie. It’s maybe Anderson’s most realized vision of west coast corruption featuring Daniel Day-Lewis at his career-best. However, it’s way too operatic for my tastes, managing to feel as loud and booming as an oil well shooting a towering fountain into the sky. It’s horrifying, but we’re also looking at the birth of a monster, willing to destroy anything that stands in his way. As a score-to-film translation, it’s complimentary. However, I personally don’t know that it’s one that captures my favorite components of a Greenwood score. I like it when he gets weird. This may have that in subtext, but I like it when it’s more steering the ship.
5. Inherent Vice (2014)
By a wide margin, this may be his most understated score in his entire career. Compared to everything else he’s done (especially with Anderson), it’s hard to imagine anyone pulling this out as a personal favorite. I know that I personally wouldn’t. However, it’s a perfect example of how complimentary his style is even to the surfside noir. With a subtle Dick Dale-style guitar, he makes the whole score sound like a melodrama at the beach, finding the atmosphere washing in and out with the moment. The best moments of this would rank among other composers’ best work, managing to blend vibes into something laidback and exciting.
Another underrated aspect of this soundtrack especially is how reminiscent of Robert Altman its approach is. Anyone familiar with M*A*S*H* (1970) will notice how the overlapping vocals elevate the score into something more perplexing and winding. In this case, occasional chimes from Joanna Newsom create this peaceful, smoky undertone that leads the listener through this cavern of late-60s Southern California, trying to make sense of what’s going on. The vocals may sound like a gimmick on paper, but it elevates the score into something much more mystical and exciting. It’s a beautiful throwback and one that captures the era perfectly in every note.
What is your favorite Jonny Greenwood score?
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