image courtesy of MCA Records

While re-classified as a crime-drama by today’s standards (thanks in part to the increasingly graphic liberties taken by primetime television cop-dramas), The Silence of the Lambs stood on its own in the early 1990s. The film was so visually and psychologically disturbing, the media dubbed it as a horror film, which automatically launched it to iconic status when it won the Academy Award for Best Picture. No “horror” film before or since has been graced with that honor.

Providing the musical accompaniment to the film was three-time Academy Award winner Howard Shore, who the masses know today as “the guy who did the Lord of the Rings soundtracks.” While quite an honor for any composer, few people recall that Shore cut his teeth in the late 1970s through the 80s on psychologically jarring horror films (many of which were directed by David Cronenberg), and fewer still remember him as the original music director on Saturday Night Live (1975-1980).

Howard Shore scored three films in 1991, Lambs, A Kiss Before Dying, and the William S. Burroughs cult classic Naked Lunch (which also yielded a fantastic soundtrack). It seemed like no one wanted to acknowledge his accomplishments, not the Academy, not the Golden Globes, not even the Grammys.

However, 1991 was during that time when film studios still cared about quality movie scores and soundtracks. The Academy Award nominees from that year included Beauty and the Beast (Alan Menken), The Prince of Tides (James Newton Howard), JFK (John Williams), Bugsy (Ennio Morricone), and The Fisher King (George Fenton). All were very well-constructed scores and deserving of recognition, but again, so was Shore’s work. There was some minor justification, when The Silence of the Lambs left the building with five Oscars – Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress, and Best Adapted Screenplay.

It is the perfect soundtrack to autumn, most likely because the music also acted as a reflection of the time of year the film occurred. The opening scene shows FBI Cadet Clarice Starling jogging a mid-autumn trail, with deadened leaves rustling, the sky slightly grayed, and the wind gently howling, as though mimicking a wolf aching from hunger pangs. It couldn’t be a more appropriate analogy, for while all this is going on, the film’s “wolf,” Jame Gumb (AKA Buffalo Bill) is already stalking his prey. Roger Ebert stated, “Howard Shore's mournful music sets a funereal tone” to the film.

Even as this article is being written, the wind outside is becoming more aggressive, the ground is being painted by yellow and red leaves, and although the sun is shining, the sky’s usually blue hue is quickly fading, as time slowly kills off the previous season’s vibrancy.

Shore also uses some tricks to reflect the attitudes of the characters in the film, with twists of an instrument, the tempo, rhythmic illusions, and other tools to accentuate the arrogance of Dr. Chilton, the bestial rawness of Gumb, the unwavering confidence of Jack Crawford, and the ever darkening mystery of Hannibal Lecter. The violins reflect the naivety and sincerity of Clarice Starling’s character, while the horn section constantly provides a dark aura. As the soundtrack progresses, the denser the music becomes, the darker the atmosphere feels – it’s a seething, skin-crawling experience.

The movie also featured rock and pop songs that added some human elements to the production, like Tom Petty’s “American Girl” and Q Lazzarus’ “Goodbye Horses,” but they were not released on the soundtrack, either due to legal reasons or the fact that they would interrupt the haunting earnestness of Shore’s score.

Once again, our guest commentator Dani Filth of CRADLE OF FILTH offers his thoughts on the film:

“Everybody loves this movie, as it brought serial killer chic kicking and screaming back into mainstream cinema, amidst introducing the world to Anthony Hopkins as the brilliant and psychopathic Dr. Hannibal Lecter (one long-term keyboardist of ours even adopting his pseudonym).

“Where the movie is psychological, tense and morbidly poetic, so too is Howard Shore's fantastically string-based score, full of vast swathes of creepy melody and reflective moodiness. There are some real contrasts in this soundtrack but like Doctor Lecter, under its cool, mysterious, (almost pious) exterior lurks a darker beast of deeper intensity.

“As with many of my favourite soundtracks, this one really reminds me of Autumn, kicking my way through huge piles of yellowing leaves whilst thinking all the while just who to eat next.”

You’re not going to succumb from the multiple stab wounds of piercing violin shrieks (made an industry standard thanks to Bernard Herrmann’s Psycho); The Silence of the Lambs attacks by smothering you with its subtlety, its deceptive gentleness. It is not exactly a “trick or treat,” pomp-strewn soundtrack with cheap thrills, but its slow-burn, incensed progression definitely makes you want to leave the light on while listening.