Exclusive Interview: Discussing Halloween music and Disney with The Funhouse composer John Beal

October 26, 6:30 PMSoundtracks ExaminerMark Morton

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While his name may not be on the tip of your tongue, musician/composer/arranger John Beal is a true creative dynamo in the world of film and television music. With such credits as being general manager/producer of the Hollywood Symphony Orchestra and the president of Reeltime Creative – a company that provides original score music to marketing campaigns across the spectrum of industry, this is just the proverbial tip of the aural iceberg that is John Beal.

Not only has he provided the scores to over 2000 movie trailers (including 40 of the top-grossing films of all time), but he has also worked with Disney, providing music for attractions in Disneyland and Walt Disney World, and he was one of the music conductors at Walt Disney World’s opening day ceremony in October, 1971.

But horror movie fans have a different memory of Beal. In 1981, he submitted a score to the creepy Tobe Hooper (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Poltergeist, Spontaneous Combustion) film The Funhouse. Easily one of the most chilling soundtracks in horror movie canon, Beal preyed upon the viewers’ naivety and innocence and plunged them into a world of unabashed terror.

It is here where our conversation begins.

You said that you are always surprised when people congratulate you for your work on The Funhouse. Why is that? It is a score that has really stood the test of time and really helped pull a movie that could have been mediocre to a frightening cult status.

It is quite a thrill that people continue to write to me from all over the world about this score. While the composer’s job is always to try and lift a project to the best possible artistic level, at the time it wasn’t the kind of film that would necessarily generate expectations other than garnering a decent opening for a horror film around the Halloween period and hopefully get reasonable annual TV play. That people see my work as elevating it into a cult status is quite an honor, and I do love that they take the time to write.

How did you come to be brought in to score The Funhouse? Prior to it, you were largely known as a television composer. Were you familiar with Tobe Hooper’s work prior to the meeting? Also, how did the scoring process come together? Were you given dailies, a script, any visuals with which to seek inspiration? Did Hooper have any preconceived notions about how he wanted the score to sound?

I was blessed to be represented at the time by then composer super-agents Al Bart and Stan Milander. It was their relationship with the wonderful producer Mace Neufeld that brought us together. I had not worked with Tobe Hooper, but of course knew his most frightening film, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I saw the film once before hiring, and it was in the last editing stage at that point. This film was unusual, in that I did not work with Tobe.

Creative conversations were with producer Mace Neufeld, who is one of the greatest gentlemen I worked with in my career. He’s a musician and a completely creative thinker. We spotted with him and with producers Mark Lester and Derek Power and music supervisor/record producer Tom Catalano in attendance.

Fortunately, I was able to get one of my mentors, music editor Ken Johnson on board. Ken’s behind-the-scenes contributions were amazing. This was before electronic editing and computer generated click tracks, so the work he did with 35mm magnetic film strips in overlays and reversed prints was awesome. Mace Neufeld’s instructions were concise and trusting. He wanted the score to be as big and lush as possible. Scoring was done from printed spotting notes created by the music editor. I did not have the film at home to view. At times I would go over to the music editor’s and view scenes on his Movieola (editing machine).

Was the film on a tight budget? And if so, did the weight fall heavily to your creativity to pull off such a big sound for the score? Also, did the constant delays in the film-making affect your compositions?

We not only did not have a big budget, but the Los Angeles musicians were on strike. It was a very tough year for musicians. We negotiated a special agreement with the union to avoid going overseas. At that time, overseas recording was not only frowned upon, there weren’t the quality orchestras and movie-friendly facilities available there are now. Recording with the wonderful musicians in London was not much more cost-effective - I would not have been allowed to conduct, and our union was seriously going after people for what they considered strike-breaking.

The film was complete when I was brought on board, so the only delays were in my trying to get a handle on a unique approach to scoring the project. That was quite a process.

A lot of interesting compositional decisions were made during the creation of The Funhouse. Was that a collaborative effort, or was it mostly you, i.e. allowing the violins and celli carry the action, using percussion and brass very sparingly (mostly in the points of high anxiety and action), and using woodwinds to represent childlike curiosity and a sort of twisted innocence?

The compositional concept is mine. I spent weeks looking at a generic horror film with a heavily drooling villain thinking that I was looking at the end of my career. Thematic sense just wasn’t coming right away. It was literally the last available week that I hit on the approach of essentially writing in two diametrically opposed key signatures simultaneously in almost a song form as opposed to a strict 12-tone serial concept that is more typical. I must give tremendous credit to orchestrators Richard Bellis, Miles Goodman and Don James, who spent a week trying to get a handle on the havoc I had wrought and brought it to the recording stage in such a playable and musical manner for the musicians.

The trust Mace placed in me during the creative period was awesome for a relative new composer. This was long before synthesizer mockups. Filmmakers simply had to wait for the composer to show up in front of the orchestra and hope they had made the right choice. It went well. We didn’t make any concept changes on the podium to accommodate their needs, just a few adjustments in the sound.

The Los Angeles orchestra was phenomenal. To hear portions of the orchestra playing in one key and their neighbors playing in another key a tri-tone apart could have been a fingernails-on-the-blackboard disaster, but they were such fabulous musicians that they sailed through the cues with great passion.

Something else that really stood out about your score to The Funhouse was that you utilized synthesizers VERY minimally, almost to the point where they were used as background accompaniment. Was this because they were relatively new to the film music industry, or were you fervent about sticking to a largely orchestral score? I think it is this notion that also makes your score stand out among the sea of 1980s horror films, because the bulk of them relied too heavily upon synthesizers.

My assignment from Mace Neufeld was to create a big, lush orchestral score and I agreed that this small film would only be made smaller by using what was then a pretty cheesy synthesizer approach to scoring. However, I was completely enamored with the “new” electronic sounds from Robert Moog, Wendy Carlos and others, and felt they could be integrated into an organic orchestral setting.

I had studied with Clarke Spangler along with Ian Underwood, Mike Boddicker and others at the time. These guys were phenomenal sound designers who were incredible musicians. They nursed each sound into its most musically integrated shape. So I used their talents to help create the circus-like effect, from twisted and noisy calliopes to big carousels that played what seemed like normal waltzes and marches, but were done entirely using my demented polychord approach as accompaniment to the melodies they played. These guys were awesome to work with. You can hear this in the main and end titles.

You also used the dissonant, echoing “clop clop clop” sound to mount tension and bring a sense of foreboding. A similar sound effect was previously heard in Jerry Goldsmith’s Alien score. Were you influenced by Alien at all when pulling The Funhouse together? How did you create that simple but effective sound?

Jerry was my hero for his use of color, rhythm, space and power. I actually probably was more influenced by Planet of the Apes than Alien at this time of my career, though. There are two sonic approaches that we used for the percussive foreboding sounds. The melodic one that’s sort of like a demented doorbell is a harp with a (now-primitive) electronic device called a Ring Modulator attached.

The sound that a bit more of a clopping sound you’re referring to is called “col legno” and created by having the string players strike the strings with the stick, or wooden part of the bow – like a percussionist would. The pitch is random, but you can instruct people to strike closer or further from the bridge of their instrument to vary the sonic effect. I make a habit of telling the contractor to advise string players when we are going to ask for this. I’m sure beating on a Stradivarius violin with a stick is not exactly the first choice for a master of their craft. A practice violin will work just fine for these effects.

Violins are integral instruments to bringing horror films to life. You did some amazing things with them, from helping to push the story forward, to making them scream outright during the terrifying peaks in the film. Most people equate the use of jabbing violins as a Herrmann-esque inspiration, but it sounds like your inspiration was deeper rooted in Classical music. True?

There was the obligatory salute to Bernard Herrmann in the fake shower attack which occurred early in the film. Those who did not see the film would think it was a steal. It was definitely a tongue-in-cheek homage for the entire sequence. I was actually looking at a photocopy of his original score while doing this scene.

But yes, I was heavily into studying the H. Berlioz / R. Strauss Treatise on Instrumentation at that time. It’s completely dog-eared and worn, and the cover has been taped up three or four times to keep it intact. That was where I lived during that point in my career. And Jerry Goldsmith’s use of organic instruments to make unearthly sounds was amazing. These were my influences.

Earlier this year, Eli Roth announced that he was remaking The Funhouse. Have you been contacted about the use of your music?

I would be thrilled just to have a conversation with Eli about his project, regardless of the outcome. There were so many things that could have been better; it will be fun to see. Of course, I would truly love to be involved in some manner. Would you and your readers like to start lobbying?

You have also done Terror in the Aisles and a string of “making of” documentaries. Did you draw upon the original films discussed for musical direction, or did you treat them as extended commercials, given your incredible history as a trailer composer?

Terror in the Aisles was a daunting project because we needed to find a musical voice for the film while still keeping at least a sense of the work of the many fine original composers. But when you’ve got 40 clips from different films in less than a minute, you have to go with scoring the piece and not the pieces. When there were longer scenes, I tried to write in the original style.

In nearly all cases, the music rights were not available, so I had to salute the composers’ works rather than clone them. For the “making of” or “back lot” projects, we often either did not have the score or the score didn’t appropriately fit with the conversations or shots going on.

In your interview in The Modern Hollywood Composer, you said that “a score should be integrated with the same grace as lighting and depth of focus by a camera, and often as unnoticeable.” I’ve always been of the persuasion that a great score can have legs outside of the confines of the film, sparking your imagination and emotions in the same fashion as a piece of Classical or jazz music. I think that is one of the reasons that horror scores in particular achieve longevity beyond their direct attachment to the films. Do you not see scores from that perspective, as well?

A good piece of music for film is not just like a piece of classical music – it is our new form of classical music. It deserves the same respect and presentation in public venues. Thank goodness for concerts by John Williams, John Mauceri, David Newman and others who are keeping great film music in front of world audiences.

There are two schools of thought regarding public performance. One is that the music should only be presented note for note as written, even if it has boring sections when heard without film – or that it should only be played in synchronization with film. The other is that the music can, and probably should, be adapted into a more concert-friendly presentation. I think both approaches have their own special place, and neither should be denied. Whatever is best for the presentation of the work.

My point about the integration of scoring is simply that music which overpowers a film beyond its purpose is not good. Unless it is the director’s idea that you as viewer be pulled out of the story to say “wow, what great music,” a composer has done a grand disservice by pointing loudly to their own place in the larger canvas.

While it’s easier to do with smaller ensembles or quiet music, huge pieces of score can slip into your consciousness while watching a film, to where you never heard the music start, and you probably don’t hear where it went out. When he writes in grand style, John Williams creates an atmosphere that brings you to a place that is larger than life and works there. When he writes small, it’s amazing. Jerry Goldsmith’s intimate writing was astounding at times, and his big scores would often be playing long before you became aware of the added dimension. James Newton Howard is a master at this.

You have said that you are retired from scoring films. What brought you to that decision? Was it not a fun experience for you? Was it a money issue? Or did you simply become too busy with your other ventures?

Composers have music continually flowing through their consciousness. I don’t think one can retire from that or stop the music from playing in their head. I’m just shifting my priorities. As you know, the bulk of my career has been in the truly exciting area of composing completely original scores for major motion picture trailers. I could not have wished for a better adventure, having the opportunity to work with every major studio and the best filmmakers in the world – and getting paid top dollar to do what I love. What could be better?

After several decades of doing something, it’s hard to avoid the occasional “been there, done that” component, though. Also, the industry has moved away from the concept we started of creatively spotting a trailer the way we would do for a feature film and creating original music that was seamlessly scored from top to bottom, to what is now often a mad collection of many short pieces of music spliced together and then rated by focus groups. That’s not a very satisfying creative environment for a composer. As other creative opportunities arise, I follow them now.

With a career that covers over 2000 trailers, you had to be working on several projects simultaneously at various points in time. Did you ever run into issues with giving each its proper attention or making sure it had its own sound? Sometimes composers have been known to work on multiple film scores on top of one another, and it often shows in the end result, with the two sounding uncannily similar. Do you ever force yourself to step back and take notice of these situations, and do you have any advice for fledgling composers who may inadvertently fall into that trap?

I personally did not have that challenge, as I had grown up with excellent mentoring, had good orchestration skills and a wide range of musical interests. Every trailer had a completely unique voice and the opportunities for musical styles varied wildly. I was taught that a composer for hire should be fluent in all styles that he faced and the trailer industry allowed me to work and grow in that environment. Rarely did I find a case where a style was uncomfortable. I always wanted to be true to a genre and would sometimes bring special talent in to assist in colors or articulations.

However, feature films are another challenge entirely. Today’s composer gets less time to create and is sometimes working for people who use focus groups to rate temp tracks, and the musical choices made by committee or supervisors and then dictated to the composer. Many studios want the music to be the same sound from film to film – because of a belief that this familiarity will help sell tickets. This is not a creative decision made by creative people.

Also, when composers are faced with an insurmountable amount of music to write and orchestrate in a very short period of time, they hire very talented teams. For continuity, teams tend to use orchestration techniques and colors that are familiar and, when played back to back in one film after another, do sound alike. When young composers with no orchestration skills are hired, the teams simply work in tried-and-true styles. Getting the job completed on deadline takes precedence over original creative choices.

Young composers must do what is required to get and keep a job, but they do need to have or develop their own unique voice, even if working in a tried-and-true genre, and it’s important they try to avoid copying a style as opposed to honoring it while bringing their own passion to it.

Something else I would like to discuss is your work with Disney. You were the conductor for the Grand Opening of Walt Disney World in 1971. What can you tell me about that experience, and what pieces were included in the event’s program?

Wow, Mark, that was seriously another lifetime ago. I don’t remember a lot about that show. I had been at the park in Orlando for about a year of stage preparation and supervision of live acts for the park’s opening and they brought me over to work on the TV show. Other than that, I just remember that it was a huge event that was shot in pieces so we didn’t have a sense of the overall continuity.

How did you come to be associated with Disney and Disney Imagineering? For which attractions did you supply the music?

I had grown up with the kids of top Disney animators Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnston and was introduced to Buddy Baker, the main composer of all Disney films, TV shows and theme park music at the time. He was the most delightful man. He introduced me to Marc Davis and George Probert, who worked in Imagineering. I worked on America Sings and Carousel of Progress.

I must say that working with the folks at Imagineering was a dream – a collaborative creative experience such as I’ve not found anywhere else. To work with completely open minds that encourage all ideas and build on each others’ suggestions was a real treat.

You mentioned that Buddy Baker was a great mentor in your time with Disney. Did he lessen the burden or amplify the notion that what you were creating would be lodged in the memories of generations of children? And how did such a notion affect your work? Were you already in the mindset that you had to create something “timeless?” Did you feel you the ominous weight of having to discover/create something that could stand the test of time alongside such classics as The Haunted Mansion, Pirates of the Caribbean, and It’s A Small World?

Well, it would be impossible not to have a sense of the incredible privilege of working in the most magical and timeless of environments. Buddy shared that by his sheer exuberance, not by dictation. He had the joy of a young person discovering a new toy every time he showed me a scene and talked about his approach to scoring it.

As for my own part in the theme parks, it was miniscule when seen within the total canvas that was the creation of great Imagineers. Each and every piece of the park, from the smallest piece of sign to the largest ride experience was so carefully thought out by great minds that I could never include myself as anything other than a very happy participant in a great adventure.

Having covered so much ground during your extensive career, from movies and television, trailers and Disney, to all the symphony and recording organizations you’ve been involved with, what does a typical day in the creative life of John Beal consist of in 2009?

Every day is different, and every day is filled with creative opportunities and too few hours. At this point, I try to stay surrounded by creative thinkers in all areas. It’s not just music these days.

In addition to my own time for creative exploration and growth, I truly love movies, and I am blessed to be asked to consult on the creation of movie posters, trailers and websites, brainstorming with authors and producers and loving that there is a bit of time to enjoy the kind of private life that I didn’t have before.

My days are definitely filled with gratitude and wonder and absolutely no idea what I’ll be immersed in tomorrow – only that it will be different than today. What more could a creative wish for? Life is good!