**Author’s Note: The following essay includes scenes from “Touch of Evil” to illustrate my words. These scenes not only include spoilers to the film, but one involves implied sexual assault.
Orson Welles never stopped pushing cinema form forward after “Citizen Kane”– the problem was his resources got more and more scant, and his freedom more and more bowled over by studio interference as he went along. But watch films like “Chimes at Midnight”, “The Trial” and “F for Fake”, and you see the devious genius at work in not only the material he is working with, but how he’s crafting it into our experience watching the film. My favorite film of his is 1958’s “Touch of Evil”, which is renowned for not only Welles’s performance but the visual landscape Welles and cinematographer Russell Metty craft. For me, though, it’s the score by Henry Mancini- and how it’s deployed in the film- that has always made “Touch of Evil” stand just a bit taller for me among Welles’s films.
Henry Mancini is a composer best known for his comedic scores for Blake Edwards- and of course, his iconic “Pink Panther” theme- but his lush jazz and orchestral sensibilities found their way to films like “Wait Until Dark” and “Charade”, as well. Mancini’s work depended a lot on rhythmic complexity and sly orchestration, at times. One of the things that makes his work stand out in “Touch of Evil” is how he adapted his jazz ideas to a harsher, less romantic view of humanity in Welles’s noir. Befitting the film’s setting in border towns on the US-Mexico border, his compositions would be at home in smoke-filled, and liquor-fueled bars and lounges; tinged with a bit of rock, the music in “Touch of Evil” is the perfect companion to Welles’s vision of a story of corruption and moral rot. What I hope to illuminate in this essay is what makes Mancini’s score, and how Welles intended to use it, so brilliant, and one of the standout moments for film music in history.
It’s impossible to discuss “Touch of Evil” without discussing the history of its making. The final film Welles made with studio backing, it- like every other non-“Citizen Kane” film he had made to that point- found itself the victim of studio meddling. Famously, Welles- who was eventually taken out of the post-production process- wrote a 58-page memo detailing the changes he wished to see implemented to the film from what the studio had in mind, which was as a B-side programmer for a double feature. In 1998, many of Welles’s changes were finally realized in a “Restoration Cut” that was met with great acclaim. I still remember watching this cut in its theatrical release, and it was probably the high point of classic film watching in a year in which I had the chance to watch several classic films on the big screen. With the advent of Blu-Ray and UHD disc, it is possible to watch all the available versions of “Touch of Evil” to see the differences between them, and Welles intentions. For this piece, I watched all three versions of the film- the 108-minute “Preview Cut,” the 96-minute “Theatrical Cut,” and the 111-minute “Restoration Cut”- courtesy Kino Lorber’s UHD set. I’ve only watched the “Restoration Cut” for the past 25 years, so I was looking forward to seeing the other versions to really notice the differences; musically, there’s a fundamental difference noticed right away.
The film begins with a 3-minute tracking shot, where we start with dynamite planted in the trunk of a car, and then we follow the car across the border, as well as Charlton Heston’s Mike Vargas and his new wife, Susan, played by Janet Leigh, who are crossing on foot. In both the Preview Cut and Theatrical Cut, this has the film’s opening credits over it, along with what might be considered Mancini’s “main theme” for the film on the soundtrack. It’s a great way to open the film, with Mancini’s music over the tracking shot- which sets the tone for the score- but there’s a lot to notice when you get to the Restoration Cut. That main theme has its opening notes used as a sting over the Universal logo, but as the tracking shot continues, we hear the way the music is mixed into the soundscape. We get not only more of an emphasis on the sounds of the town, but we also get a primer for the music we’ll hear throughout the film. The emphasis in the Restoration opening scene is in presenting Mancini’s score as diegetic, which is to say, as a part of the world of the film; this is different from traditional underscore, which is a musical narrator giving us an emotional blueprint for how to feel from moment to moment. As we follow the shot, we hear music coming from a variety of sources, whether they be from far away bars or car radios, and if you listen intently, you’ll notice that each piece will find itself repeated later in the film. In a lot of epics of the time, the filmmakers would have an Overture of the music playing before the film starts that hints at the musical landscape to come; here, Welles envisioned an Overture of sorts where we’re given a listen at the larger picture of the score, while also setting up his story.
The Restoration Cut of the film continues to, for the most part, utilize the score as a diegetic part of the world of the film, although there are certainly times where it plays as underscore, such as when Susan is being harassed by Grande’s son and his friends, and she throws the light bulb out of the hotel room. There’s a darkly comedic feel to the music in that moment, but even though it’s utilized as underscore to this moment of the film, Mancini’s use of percussion and rhythm is in keeping with the sound of the larger score- if they revealed this as coming from a location in the movie, it would not surprise me. A lot of the film’s moments of music as underscore involve Susan, such as the moment later in the film where she is framed by Welles’s Quinlen, and Mike runs to be with her in jail. At the same time, though, there are moments where the music in the Restoration Cut will almost move between diegetic and underscore, such as when Mike, Quinlen and other members of law enforcement are going to a brothel.
In both the Preview Cut and Theatrical Cut, the main theme over the opening credits, and the tracking shot, is not the only significant change in the way music is used in the film. In those cuts, the music is largely treated as underscore in the mix. Some of it is played diegetically- typically when we see an on-screen source like a band, a radio, or the player piano in Tana’s parlor- but for the most part, what we are hearing is separate from the landscape of the film’s drama. Part of what makes Mancini’s score so wonderful for this is that we feel the same undercurrent of seediness in both approaches; it’s such an effective musical representation of the world of “Touch of Evil” that we understand the intent of what it represents fully.
Regardless of whatever version of the film you want, the music played by the player piano owned by Tana, played by Marlene Dietrich, is diegetic when we hear it as the story unfolds. It’s not heard until Tana enters the film, and it’s an important emotional weight to the film; as we’ll come to see, Tana is one of the last grasps of humanity that anchors the corrupt Quinlen as the film moves to its climax. Even his longtime partner, Menzies, is unable to defend him at a certain point; only Tana is left to speak to the man Quinlen was before he let his base desires for justice take hold. The music of the player piano- which also plays at the end, in a moment where the line between diegetic and underscore is blurred- is a necessary representation of what’s lost when the search for justice is corrupted.
What Welles wanted to do with the score for “Touch of Evil” isn’t intended to be an indictment of using score the way filmmakers traditionally use film music; what I love about this use of film music is that it challenges the listener/viewer to think about why a soundtrack being embedded into the world of the story onscreen can improve a viewing experience rather than a score that just aims to comment on the action, and elicit an emotional response. By using music diegetically, a filmmaker can increase the impact of a scene based on the setting of a scene, or the actions of the characters. This is probably best illustrated when Susan is at the hotel. The music has been keeping her up that comes from the radio, as have the hoodlums in the room next to her. In one of the film’s most unsettling moments, the hoodlums- working for Grande- barge into her room, and a gang rape is implied. We don’t see anything, but we know that she is doomed by how, unaware of what’s about to happen, the desk clerk (Dennis Weaver) shuts off the radio, which finally gives Susan peace from the music. But the lack of music only adds to the horror of the moment; she has no power in that moment. The impact of that choice, where another film might have ramped up the music to build tension, is one of the master strokes of why, sometimes, a soundtrack that comes out from the film is more important than one that simply accentuates the action in the film.
The more I’ve watched “Touch of Evil” over the years, it doesn’t have the visual inventiveness of “Citizen Kane” or “The Trial”, but- and maybe it’s the musician/film score lover in me- its use of music has made me fonder of it and think that it’s his best film to date. “Citizen Kane” is a revolutionary film, but in “Touch of Evil”, Welles arguably challenged the system more by taking a B-movie piece of pulp, and still find ways to have his iconoclastic way with the filmmaking process. Henry Mancini was the perfect collaborator for him to do so with; if you look at films he did later, his music continued to straddle the line between diegetic and underscore.
I want to thank all the users who put the scenes up on YouTube that have helped me illustrate my feelings on the soundtrack for “Touch of Evil”. When it comes to film music, while it can be discussed in a way that gets the point across, hearing it in concert with the film is the best way to do show how “Touch of Evil” challenges audiences musically more.
Thanks for listening,
Brian Skutle
www.sonic-cinema.com
