The music of science-fiction cinema

Preamble

The Eighties represent a fundamental decade for science-fiction cinema, a phase of clear rupture with the preceding period: a break that opens up new paths, some of which had already been sketched out in embryonic form in the Seventies. Science-fiction cinema before the Eighties can be divided into two main strands: one largely devoted to entertainment and the other of a political-apocalyptic nature, both mostly characterised by low-budget productions (with the due exceptions of “2001: A Space Odyssey“, “Solaris” and, of course, “Star Wars“).

The Eighties decisively broaden the paths available thanks to the emergence of a new generation of directors, able to breathe fresh life into a science-fiction genre that, it should be remembered, had already produced numerous outstanding films in the preceding decades. If the formal watershed between the science fiction of the origins (from “A Trip to the Moon” in 1902 onwards) and modern science fiction is marked by “2001: A Space Odyssey” (1968), it can be said that the film which truly marks the break between the cinema of the Seventies and that of the Eighties is “Alien” (1979) by Ridley Scott, one of those new directors (along with Cronenberg and Carpenter above all) who paved the way for a new way of seeing science fiction.

Alien, a watershed film

“Alien” symbolically closes one era and, at the same time, inaugurates a dark, technologically unsettling imagery that will characterise the entire following decade. Science fiction becomes more nocturnal, violent and pessimistic, marked by the end of utopias and the advance of an increasingly pervasive capitalism. The metropolises of the future are decayed, hyper-controlled, stratified; an eternal rain-soaked night (“Blade Runner“) becomes the backdrop against which the protagonists move. Bodies become modifiable and hybridised with machines (Cronenberg's entire filmography), machines cease to be mere tools at the service of man and give rise to autonomous, unstoppable processes (“Terminator”), capitalism takes on increasingly overt dictatorial traits (“Escape from New York”, “They Live”, “The Running Man”, “Nineteen Eighty-Four”). Technology often appears as the sole harbinger of death and barbarism (“Mad Max 2”, “Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome”), while space becomes a horrific and inhuman place (“Aliens”, “The Thing“). The metropolises of the future have lost all sense of humanity, and nuclear war is a possibility that could happen any day, without warning (“The Day After”, “Dead Man's Letter”, “The Dead Zone”).

The future is no longer a promise of emancipation, but a hostile environment in which to survive.

Against entertainment

In some ways, Eighties science fiction is also a form of revolt against pure entertainment, perhaps a polemical response to space operas like “Star Wars“, which turned science fiction from a metaphorical tool for social analysis into a great mainstream juggernaut. Yet it is a revolt that uses the very tools of entertainment to reach a wider audience: a cinema that embraces action, breakneck pacing, visual and narrative iconicity, combining thematic darkness with spectacle, critical reflection with consumption. This great burst of creativity comes full circle in 1990 with “Total Recall”, a film of the new decade, yet still wholly immersed in the imagery of the Eighties. 

In this transition, music could not help but take on unprecedented importance.

The Music

It's not just the directors who make this evolution possible. Music also changes radically, becoming an essential element for a film's success. Sci-fi soundtracks acquire a distinct identity compared to other genres, and a new generation of composers pioneers a different way of conceiving the soundtrack. The Eighties represent the moment when music for science-fiction cinema reaches a definitive form.

The massive introduction of synthesizers, the hybridization of electronics, orchestra, rock and sound experimentation redefine the perception of the future. Sound no longer merely accompanies the action: it builds atmospheres, defines spaces, suggests ideologies.

The music of Eighties science fiction is cold, mechanical and repetitive when it needs to evoke automatism and control ("Terminator", "Escape from New York"); lyrical and melancholic when it tells of humanity's nostalgia in a hyper-technological world ("Dune", "Nineteen Eighty-Four", the track "Love Scene" in "Terminator"); aggressive and rhythmic when it turns dystopia into spectacle ("The Running Man", "The Fly"), evocative when it must conjure future civilizations ("Blade Runner"). In every case, it helps make the future sensorially believable, turning it into an emotional experience even before a narrative one.

Below is a selection of ten soundtracks that left an indelible mark on the cinematic imagination of the decade.

The five essential soundtracks

Escape from New York – John Carpenter & Alan Howarth (1981)

John Carpenter is one of the most influential directors of the American generation that emerged in the Seventies, the decade that saw the reappraisal of so-called B-movies, alongside figures like Brian De Palma and David Cronenberg. Yet it was above all Carpenter, reinterpreting the B-movies of previous decades with a deeply personal vision, who helped drive the genre's rebirth, delivering a string of cult works of extraordinary visionary power.

In "Escape from New York", the dark settings (the film is entirely set at night) are accompanied by pounding rhythms of electronics and drum machine, as if marking out a time relentlessly advancing toward an inevitably disastrous ending.

It's impossible not to be captivated by the famous "Main Title", clearly inspired by Goblin and, more broadly, by the tradition of Italian genre-film soundtracks (Italian genre cinema). Tracks like "The Bank Robbery" are emblematic of Carpenter's signature style: everything is built through the progressive addition of sonic elements. First a kick drum, then a guitar, then a sound resembling maracas, joined by snares, electronic effects, handclaps and percussion. It's a continuous layering process, following in the footsteps of the American minimalism of figures like Steve Reich.

The same approach returns in two other classics, "The Duke Arrives/The Barricades" and "President At The Train", where only the repeated guitar notes change slightly. Repetition generates a hypnotic effect, and Carpenter's rhythms seem capable of going on forever without ever growing tiresome.

Blade Runner – Vangelis (1982)

In the evolutionary path of science-fiction soundtracks, 1982 marks a pivotal year. The music of "Blade Runner", composed by Vangelis, combined with the noir imagery of the future envisioned by Ridley Scott, represents a point of no return that permanently reshaped the imagination of the genre.

The tracks "Main Titles" and "End Titles" alone would have been enough to seal the legendary status of the “Blade Runner” score. In the former, the romantic, metallic sigh of the Yamaha CS-80 resounds for the first time, an electronic whale song hovering between neon lights and thunderstorms; in the latter, the synthesizers, in an almost Moroder-esque surge, accompany Rick Deckard and Rachel's escape into the mountains, finally far from the rain and the leaden Los Angeles of the future. 

If Ennio Morricone was the father of the new sound of the western, the primacy for science-fiction film music undoubtedly belongs to Vangelis. Two careers, two sounds and two radically different approaches, united by an influence that transcends cinema and extends into popular and classical music alike. (Valerio D'Onofrio and Michele Corrado)

Dune – Toto & Brian Eno (1984)

The score for “Dune” represents one of the most striking cases of mismatch between image and sound in the history of science-fiction cinema. David Lynch's film is remembered today more as an ambitious failure than as a genre classic: mutilated by production interference, poorly regarded even by the director himself, and unable to convey the complexity of Frank Herbert's universe. Yet the Toto soundtrack delivers one of the most epic and iconic themes of the entire decade. The famous "Main Title" marks a clear departure from the American band's usual discography: four notes entrusted to a string orchestra of Wagnerian power, suspended between epic grandeur and liturgy, give life to a cosmic fanfare that immediately evokes the immensity of the deserts of Arrakis and the power struggles running through Herbert's imagined universe. The album also features a collaboration with Brian Eno (and you can hear it) on the track "Prophecy Theme".

Terminator – Brad Fiedel (1984)

Within the action sci-fi genre, “Terminator” (1984) can be considered the most representative film of the Eighties and one of the genre's absolute masterpieces. Its success is also largely due to Brad Fiedel's score, which turns James Cameron's film into a sonic manifesto of the decade's science fiction. Built entirely on synthesizers, drum machines and minimal sequences, Fiedel's music translates into sound the idea of a mechanical, merciless future dominated by machines. The martial, dehumanized rhythm accompanies technology's relentless advance, before opening up into one of the most celebrated themes of the Eighties, which shifts from the anguish of the "Main Title" to the tragic melancholy of the "Love Scene". The metallic beat that defines the main theme was achieved by recording a hammer striking an anvil, later processed electronically. The action sequences, punctuated by the obsessive repetition of the synths, are equally iconic, as in "Reese Dreams Of Future War" and "Tunnel Chase".

Among the most underrated masterpieces of Eighties film music is undoubtedly the score for 1984, composed by British musician Dominic Muldowney. Pompous and solemn as the national anthem of an imaginary totalitarian state, the music captures the Orwellian world with flawless precision. The main theme, first in its instrumental version ("Main Title, Oceania, 'Tis For Thee") and then in its sung form ("Victory Square"), is so convincing that it makes tangible the lives of the millions crushed by one of the most brutal dictatorships ever conceived in literature. Michael Radford's film, thanks to Muldowney's music and John Hurt's extraordinary performance as Winston Smith, remains one of the definitive cinematic adaptations of Orwell's novel.

Five more soundtracks

Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior – Brian May (1981)

The name Brian May could easily be misleading: it should be made clear right away that the composer of the score for the second installment of the “Mad Max” saga – probably the best in the entire series – is not the Queen guitarist, but the Australian composer of the same name. With that necessary clarification out of the way, we're looking at one of the greatest post-apocalyptic action films of all time, a clear step up from the first “Mad Max” (1979), shot on a considerably smaller budget, and more compelling than the later “Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome” (1985).

May's music stands out for a deliberately anti-spectacular approach: it is symphonic yet devoid of emphasis, violent yet always, in some way, controlled. If the true leitmotif of the entire saga is the chase sequence, the score adapts to it by forgoing any recognisable theme, turning instead into a set of abstract, modernist sound textures. This is music that rejects melody in the traditional sense in order to recreate the tragic atmosphere of an imminent post-apocalyptic world, made up of shrieking strings, engine noise and constant tension.

The Thing – Ennio Morricone (1982)

In the extraordinarily long career of Ennio Morricone, one of the most anomalous turning points is certainly the score for John Carpenter's “The Thing”, the composer's second and last foray into science-fiction cinema after Aldo Lado's “L'umanoide” (1979). We find ourselves a long way from the celebrated melodies that made the fortune of his partnership with Sergio Leone, and closer, if anything, to the abstract scores Morricone wrote for Dario Argento's early films. In “The Thing” the composer chooses to subtract rather than add: the music is almost devoid of pathos, as icy as the film's locations. The strings turn imperious yet remain constantly cold and dry in “Bestiality”, frantic and anguished in “Contamination”.

At certain moments, such as in “Eternity”, Morricone seems to be searching for common ground with the director's taste, edging towards more typically Carpenter-esque solutions. Interviews reveal that the collaboration between the two was not an easy one: Carpenter, not entirely satisfied, wrote a few short electronic interludes (later released on a separate collection) and left a significant portion of Morricone's compositions out of the film, though they remain documented on the official soundtrack release.

The Fly – Howard Shore (1986)

Howard Shore is one of the composers who made his name in the Eighties precisely thanks to science-fiction cinema, becoming over time an indispensable point of reference for David Cronenberg's films. His definitive consecration would only come in 2001 with the Oscar for Peter Jackson's “The Lord of the Rings – The Fellowship of the Ring”, but his style was already fully recognisable decades earlier. Having scored “The Brood” (1979), “Scanners” (1981) and “Videodrome” (1983), Shore developed a language that forgoes a traditional central theme in favour of the director's atmospheric needs, building diseased, disturbing soundscapes perfectly suited to early Cronenberg's worlds, “Videodrome” in particular.

With “The Fly”, Shore composed, for the first time, music that is more classical and openly melodramatic, likely inspired by the horror films of previous decades. The result is an evocative score that accompanies the viewer throughout the film, heightening both the epic scale and the disgust of the monster's metamorphosis, which advances relentlessly minute after minute.

The Running Man – Harold Faltermeyer (1987)

“The Running Man”, released in Italy as “L'implacabile”, might be considered a B-movie when set against the other titles mentioned here, yet it remains a film deeply representative of the Eighties: in its direction, its music, and in the presence of Arnold Schwarzenegger, the decade's symbolic action sci-fi star. Harold Faltermeyer's score is a typically synth-driven product of its time, far removed from orchestral writing and built entirely on rhythm and aggression.

The themes of the dehumanisation of the audience, of violence reduced to televised spectacle, and of capitalism turning death into a consumer product feel more relevant today than ever, and Faltermeyer's frantic melodies capture their inhuman quality perfectly. When a piano melody emerges, in the film's best-known tracks (“Logo–Bakerfield”, “Richards' Apt, Sneak”, “Medical Checkup”), the dualism becomes clear between the last man still capable of pity – the protagonist – and the mass of consumers-spectators, utterly numbed by the spectacle and indifferent to others' suffering. It's hard to imagine a more topical reading.

They Live – John Carpenter & Alan Howarth (1988)

“They Live” (1988) is one of John Carpenter's most original and successful films, as well as one of the most explicit manifestos of anti-capitalist science fiction. Its originality also comes through in the music, composed by Carpenter himself alongside his trusted collaborator Alan Howarth. The main theme, a simple blues piece with a deliberately slow, repetitive pace, works as the perfect metaphor for a life made of mechanical, meaningless gestures, endlessly repeated like a hamster running on a wheel. It's a theme that could go on for hours without ever growing tiresome, precisely because of its apparent stillness. The rest of the score keeps Carpenter's unmistakable style intact, confirming him as one of the absolute masters of music for science-fiction cinema.

When The Wind Blows – Roger Waters, David Bowie, Genesis, Hugh Cornell, Paul Hardcastle, Squeeze (1986)

In 1986, Roger Waters, David Bowie, Genesis, Paul Hardcastle, Hugh Cornwell (The Stranglers) and Squeeze all contributed to the soundtrack of Jimmy Murakami's post-apocalyptic animated film “When The Wind Blows”, based on Raymond Briggs' 1982 graphic novel. The protagonists are Jim and Hilda Bloggs, an elderly English couple living in isolation in the countryside. Trusting of the authorities and anchored to their own traditions, they fail to grasp a world that has changed too quickly. When the radio announces an imminent Soviet nuclear attack, they don't panic: they trust the government and ignore the consequences of radiation. After the explosion they take shelter in a homemade fallout shelter built following official manuals, but the structure proves inadequate. Convinced that this new war resembles the Second World War they knew as children, they venture out looking for food, unaware that the fallout will be their undoing. They die still hoping that someone will come to save them.

The story concentrates many themes dear to Waters: nuclear disarmament, distrust of official truths, and fear of a technology now spiraling out of control. The ten short tracks — eight of them instrumental, for a total of twenty-four minutes — bring him back to a more than respectable level and reveal a greater openness to experimentation. The best moments come when he strays from his more familiar solutions: the folk ballad “Hilda’s Dream”, the hypnotic music-box of “The Anderson Shelter”, the chaotic whirl of “The Attack”, and above all the post-nuclear ambient of “The Fallout”, which recalls his earliest psychedelic explorations. Waters only sings on “Towers Of Faith” and “Folded Flags”, both still very much in the vein of “The Final Cut”. The title track, on the other hand, is the work of David Bowie.

Other '80s soundtracks worth revisiting

Flash Gordon – Queen (1980)

Scanners – Howard Shore (1981)

Looker – Jerry Goldsmith (1981)

Tron – Wendy Carlos (1982)

E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial – John Williams (1982, Academy Award for Best Original Score)

Videodrome – Howard Shore (1983)

The Dead Zone – Howard Shore (1983)

Electric Dreams – Giorgio Moroder (1984) 

Dreamscape – Maurice Jarre (1984)

The Quiet Earth – John Charles (1985)

Brazil – Michael Kamen (1985)

Aliens – James Horner (1986)

Kin-dza-dza! – Giya Kancheli (1986)

Dead Man's Letters – Oleg Karavaychuk (1986)

RoboCop – Basil Poledouris (1987)

Predator – Alan Silvestri (1987)

Akira – Geinoh Yamashirogumi (1988)

A Visitor To A Museum – Oleg Karavaychuk (1989)

Ride the wave of great music

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