Movies and Music

My friend Hilary (one of my all-time favorite people on this planet) and I play online Scrabble, sending each other emails back and forth with our moves. We take turns asking each other three questions and then answering them. The other day she asked me, “Would you rather be a NY times bestseller, a rock star, or the head of a foundation.” Now as an aspiring writer, the obvious choice would be the bestseller. If you’re my mom and you think I’m a really nice guy who really cares about people, then maybe I should be the head of some philanthropist foundation. My brain tells me the former is a good choice, my conscious tells me the later, but every other part of my body (especially my penis) would love to be a rock star.

I don’t think I need to go into great depth about why it would be cool to be a rock star. If you’ve ever been to a big rock concert and heard the sound of the crowd erupting when the lights go down then you can imagine how much of a thrill it would be to play in front of an adoring audience. Not to mention the groupies, the destruction of hotel rooms, and the opportunity to have my own iTunes mix. I wouldn’t even have to be the lead guitarist. I’m happy to be Ringo or the bassist who just plays scales over and over again.

Alas, I have no musical talent. None. I can play a handful of chords on the guitar and probably stumble over a few Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin tunes, but a rock star I will never be. I do have plans to buy a ukulele. One of the Office writers inspired me. It’s a pretty sound and easy to play, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, I’m never going to be a rock star and that sucks.

Driving into work this morning, I heard Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” and took solace. I never really cared for the song before I saw “Almost Famous.” Now I blast it every time it comes on the radio. There is a strong visual and emotional connection between that song and one of the seminal scenes of the movie. Both the movie and the song are better off having joined as companions.

The same can be said about countless other songs that have appeared in films. Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” is one of my favorite love songs, and it’s almost certainly due to its appearance in “Say Anything.” I’ve become of fan of Loverboy because of “Wet Hot American Summer.” Survivor’s “Eye of the Tiger” is a terrible song, but I love it because I can’t hear it without thinking about Rocky. The list could go on forever. Directors like Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, and Wes Anderson have greatly expanded my taste in music and also managed to reenergize classic songs, bringing them to the forefront of pop culture.

A great movie almost invariably has a great soundtrack or at least a few great songs on it. Obviously there are exceptions, but most of them involve movies that have fantastic scores rather than soundtracks and that doesn’t really count. When a movie captures the essence of song or reinvents its essence (and vice versa), the song and movie become forever linked in my mind. I have trouble separating one from the other and the sum the parts ends up being so much greater than pieces alone.

This is a wonderful phenomenon. Songs get better, movies get better, and perhaps I’ll get to live out my dream after all. Maybe one day I’ll write a feature and convince the director to allow me some input into the soundtrack (note: I’m aware that even if the former were to happen, the later is incredibly unlikely). Maybe I can shine a light on a few unknown bands or songs. Maybe I can help to shape those songs, turn them into something special, and in doing so, excite people’s ears almost like a rock star would. A boy can dream anyway.