Bernstein, Elmer: Thema aus dem Film “To Kill a Mockingbird / Wer die Nachtigall stört”

Mockingbird ranks amongst the best-loved of all Elmer Bernstein’s film scores and, not surprisingly, is one of the composer’s personal favourites. The success of Robert Mulligan’s film version of Harper Lee’s novel owes much to Bernstein’s intimate scoring, and most significantly to his warm characterization of Jem and Scout, through whose young eyes the story of their father’s stand against racial intolerance unfolds. Illuminating this tender portrait of childhood is one of the cinema’s most haunting themes. Introduced by a gently tinkling piano over the beautifully designed opening credits (a little girl rummages through the contents of an old treasure box), then taken up by the flute and embellished with a luminous but restrained wash of strings, the effect is both magical and genuinely nostalgic. By the film’s finale Jem and Scout have reached the end of their long summer of childhood and here the theme blends with the wistful narration of the adult Scout to create a poignant and heart-melting sense of remembrance. There is much more to enjoy in this score, notably the folksy, Moross-like depiction of the dusty southern town setting (as in “Roll in the Tire”), but it is the incandescent, waltz-like main theme that makes this work such a true classic. Some 34 years after its composition, Bernstein imbues his music with an added glow of nostalgia and is served by the Scottish orchestra’s polished and sensitive response, particularly during the eloquent solos that are such a distinctive feature of the score.
Although similarly low-key, the general mood of Virginia Woolf could not be more different. The blistering brilliance of Edward Albee’s play was transferred to the screen with such terrifying intensity by director Mike Nichols (aided by the incredible performances of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton) that Alex North initially felt the film was so intense and so superbly written that it hardly needed music. However, after toying with the idea of using either jazz or 12-tone idioms, North wisely decided that aggressive music would only play against the film and opted instead for a subdued quasi-baroque style in order to underline George and Martha’s dependence on one another despite their ferocious warring. The score is both subtle and unobtrusive, its sombre elegance and spare orchestration bringing an uneasy tenderness to the drama. Divorced from the film, however, it does tend to make for rather cheerless listening (the original soundtrack album – now long-deleted – with its selection of dialogue excerpts, was perhaps a better way of appreciating this music).