Knowing The Score: Zero Hour S1 E2 "Face"

(Author's note: this essay contains spoilers for the second episode of Zero Hour, so don't say I didn't warn you!)

Lest you think I'm merely employing the popular mode of cultural criticism afforded us by such venues as Television Without Pity and so on, I really want to like this show.  Seriously.  I'm all about conspiracies and secret societies and paranormal macguffins and the like.  But yes, I am rather snarky, I fully admit it.  I don't mean to put anyone off, even though I do have issues with the way this show is written and acted.

But it is scored beautifully.

So I will carry on with the understanding that I might mock a bit, but it's done with potential affection.

Thanks to Wikipedia we've learned each episode is named after a part of a clock; which could be interpreted as either pretty clever or rather hokey.  I'm choosing to believe (because I WANT TO BELIEVE) it is the former.  It's the little things, you know.  And each episode also corresponds to an hour - this time White Vincent relates a rhyme:
But sometimes one is not one, sometimes one is two.
So Harry Nilsson was right when he told us two was the loneliest number since the number one.  I'm always happy when pop culture validates the wisdom I've accumulated through other pop culture.

We need a montage!

We last left our intrepid travelers Hank and Riley at the sub-sicle in the Canadian tundra, with the imminent arrival of the Child Born Of No Womb and I thought about how many Artic explorations have gone horribly awry and figured that statistically this one would also screw the pooch, as it were.  And since the pilot is shot almost immediately after White Vincent shows up, well, yeah, except not.  But Hank is awfully brazen for a paranormal journalist schlub, demanding to know where his wife is and saying stuff like, "It ends here."

(Uh, dude...we still have eleven episodes to go.  Pretty sure this is not ending in the sub-sicle.)

And his wheedling for WV's life is effective, as Riley makes the Goddamnit Galliston, you're making me have FEELINGS! face as she squares off with her FBI-issue weapon.

(Standoff, not so much.  But WV delivers a nice metaesque commentary on why it won't work while Hank discovers ANOTHER MAP IN A TIMEPIECE!  I'm beginning to sense a pattern here.)

And as I predicted, events take a turn for the FUBAR as WV enacts an escape, leaving Hank and Riley stranded on the tundra as the sub-sicle returns to the frozen depths from whence it surfaced.  But Riley has a satellite phone and Hank took photos of the Stopwatch of Significance, so all is not lost.

They return to a bureaucratic shitstorm, with Arron adorably wondering "Who pays these people?" as he is gladhanded from one agency to another (and their offshore call centers, one imagines).
Aw sweetie, we do!  Which is why we get the government we deserve.
Cue Laila's sad-but-pretty theme as Hank returns, miraculously not dead or even frostbitten, with a declaration that despite all his previous insistence upon skepticism he's now embracing magical thinking because FEELINGS!

FEELINGS!

And then they all bond over their crazy ninja caffeine-fueled plan which we will call SCREW YOU FBI and solve the mystery.  Followed by various expository bits involving both sides of the conundrum, as it were.  We receive a crash course on apocryphal thinking and I'm confused as to the strength of Laila's clock-fu.  Riley is revealed as a shorthand of edgy touches: knocking back the bourbon like the embittered, hard-drinking, tattooed, loft-living, listener of Bob Dylan she is as Rachel pays her a visit and says My Google-fu is strong, yes.

(Once again, yay for a nice subtle usage of licensed music.)

They have a deep conversation and Riley positions herself as useful despite Operation SCREW YOU FBI.  And suddenly Hank is in India hot on the tail of WV and there's more apocryphal discussion stateside, as well as investigation into what I consider the interesting portion of this mystery: the discovery of Hank's doppelganger - a Nazi officer - aboard the sub-sicle.  I liked WV's bit of dialog in the opener which basically stated: Kinda screws with your head, am I right?

Then there's a wonderfully (perhaps unintentional) comedic interlude with Nazi Collector Extraordinaire who is apparently recreating Hitler's secret bunker in his apartment, or something.

Riley saves Hank's ass again and they Mulder-and-Scully their way through the sultry streets of Chennai.  There is discussion of another apostle and I think each episode probably focuses on each of the "new" apostles as well.  The examination of Hank's doppelganger is, again, the most interesting part of the dramatic arc of this episode.

The "new" Thomas is cloistered in Chennai, and the encounter leads to ever-more questions, of course. There's a discussion of a love across time which will never die...especially Hank, the harbinger of doom with his FEELINGS!  And those pesky Rosicrucians are at it again.  Just then, WV, heralded by his creepy theme, shows up to cleanclaim her clock (no really, it didn't need to be cleaned, despite having been buried in the ground since 1938, presumably).

Running!  Emotional torture! as Hank spots Laila with WV.  And he becomes further aware of the cost of his particular Grail Quest.  Was Hank's doppelganger the "new" Bartholomew, then?  In the words of LOLcats worldwide, I haz a confusion.  But Hank then interprets typical Indian waste management policy also as apocrypha and that may be reaching just a tad.  It's easy to think the whole world's coming to an end when you're in a place both chaotic and odorous.

I think every episode should end with a tick tick tick.  
*crickets*
Oh c'mon, that's totally a great idea!

Onto the score...

Musically, now that I've had some time to really soak up the scoring, I've noticed, of course, that there are separate motifs for:
-the clock (or maybe the mystery itself)
This is my favorite in that the chord progression reminds me a bit of "Prague" from Bad Company.  It also relates to the opening title card/end credits sequence.
-Laila
-White Vincent
(Is it just me, or has anyone else wondered if there's a Black Vincent and he's the good twin?)
...and this is a standard scoring type of trope, certainly, but I appreciate that it lends the series as a whole a type of continuity.  I'm still not sure if it's the composition or mix which keeps the cues from stomping all over the action, but it's all very tasteful.  In this episode, the best cue is that of the "Standing Mother" scene, with beautiful ambient touches married to gentle piano and strings, then woodwinds.  Lovely.

Knowing The Score: Zero Hour S1 E1 "Strike"

(Author's note: this essay contains spoilers for the first episode of Zero Hour, so don't say I didn't warn you!)

As I have discussed, I was just giddy with the thought of Trevor going into television scoring, of being able to watch a program with his music every week because, well, of the desire for him to score everything which requires music in the world.  A bit wildly ambitious, I know, but hey I'm a fangirl, whaddya want?

Previously Trevor has made the occasional foray into television work, writing a couple opening themes for short-lived shows as well as themes for sports coverage on various channels and scoring a commercial.  So this assignment is more in line with what I consider to be worthy of his time and effort.

Zero Hour is a new ABC hour-long drama and the high concept is thus:

Hank Galliston, publisher of a paranormal-enthusiast magazine, while trying to save his abducted wife, learns that he must also save the world from an impending cataclysm.

I'll jump right in with my commentary, much as the show starts unspooling its story.  Because there is an enormous superstructure of a complex plot device ticking away (sorry) at the heart of this show, it was necessary for the first five minutes of the pilot to contain a massive infodump which obliquely hints at The Twelve and a child born of no womb, apparently, who grows up to become an international terrorist.  And this all takes place within the Axis of Evil because of course it does.

Returning to the present day we have Anthony Edwards as Every Guy, sorta.  Every Paranormal Journalist Guy Hank Galliston.  He's one of those old school guys quixotically tilting against the creeping rot of tabloid silliness.  He's a schlub - albeit a smart witty loving one - with a beautiful wife (because this is TV) and two really cute plucky editorial assistants (demographically I have to give it up to Casting for providing a matched set in that regard).

Seriously, these two are so cute.

And we have a plot device.  And speaking of. okay, so how do we have a clock which apparently is going to decide the Fate of the Free World being sold in a flea market under the Brooklyn Bridge?  Just sitting there on a table along with a bunch of other seemingly random and innocuous antique-y stuff.

And after a conversation full of Dramatic Significance which is a bit too obvious for my taste, we learn that his wife Laila is a clock restorer/repairer and it seems as though we can surmise that she is merely a carefully-selected pawn in a larger game of international metaphysical cat-and-mouse.  And this mystery forms the heart of the narrative and has something to do with the Rosicrucians, that all-purpose Secret Conspiracy Cabal.  And also Nazis, because Hitler was an occultist nutjob.

And then a whole bunch of stuff happens, and people Hank cares about are getting hurt, and he's not gonna take it sitting down, especially after he finds a map engraved on a diamond found inside of The Clock.

(Okay that was cool, I gotta say.)

It's a cliffhanger ending, of course, which I figure it's going to be from one episode to the next but I feel like we have already been told too much about the Grand Conspiracy, or it may just be that it borrows from so many existing mythologies I'm feeling a bit Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before.  But it's all at a break-neck pace and that may be part of the problem as well, there's no time to reflect on what all this stuff may mean.  I'm assuming this will resolve itself in later episodes.

Hank finds a Scully for his Mulder in FBI Agent Beck Riley who insists on being a part of his quest to find his wife, but not merely where she has gone, but why.  Hank is a model of caution who tends to attract spontaneous free-spirited women (i.e.Laila) and so finds a like mind in the quiet intensity of Agent Riley.

Now onto the score...

It is known that Trevor's long-time collaborator on his scoring work is his former tech/assistant Paul Linford and so it's nice to see co-credits in this regard for the show:

The use of an actual orchestra - as Trevor noted in a response to a question posted in the comments of a Facebook entry a few days ago - does really go a long way towards providing a proper dramatic gravitas; it reminds me of other works, of course, especially scores like the National Treasure films and I Am Number Four but the strings are very tasteful and elegant, in some cases the music is far underneath the dialogue - which I believe is something intrinsic to television - so as not to be too intrusive.  However, it's obvious that this show has cinematic aspirations in terms of scale so the selection of Trevor as scorer is appropriate.  Presumably each episode is going to be like a mini-movie.  The main theme for the title and end credit sequences is one of those propulsive intriguing kind of motifs Trevor writes so easily.

And I was happy to note only one use of gratuitous licensed music, which seems to be taking over television.  Music can be as important an element as any other in a narrative, not merely wallpaper, and it strikes me that the producers have duly taken this into account, and so bully for them.

Apparently neither the ratings nor the critics have been kind to the premiere episode but I'm living the dream, so we'll see what the future brings...and if nothing else there's always DVD.

The Man of a Thousand Credits: another Southern gentleman

One of a continuing series in regards to the myriad variety of Trevor’s discography.

In 1993, vocalist Paul Rodgers released a tribute album to Muddy Waters which contained more guitar legends than you could shake a chicken leg at, and among those doing some fine guitar-slinging was Our Trev, appearing on two tracks: "Louisiana Blues" and "She's Alright."

Rodgers possesses a solid reputation as a blues singer even as the majority of his body of work is rock n'roll, but much like many of his peers his roots in and love of the blues is entirely evident, given the way he sings these songs with a certain reverence over and above his normal swagger.

And more than a few of the featured players also have demonstrated their hues of blue during their careers; but given the era of its release one notices that there are a lot of melodic AOR players featured.  I've always assumed Trevor's participation came about because he and Rodgers shared the same manager at that time.  And in the period between, say, 1985-1994, David Gilmour was apt to turn up for any session requested (he's admitted as much in various interviews).  Some players are obvious choices, such as Buddy Guy, Jeff Beck and Steve Miller.  Overall the field is strong, one fun surprise is hearing Rodgers' soon-to-be bandmate Brian May tear it up with just a hint of his harmonic histrionics on "I'm Ready."

I have to say that of the two tracks which feature Trevor, "Louisiana Blues" is a total barnburner: slinky, swampy and tough.  Trevor's interpretation of blues tropes suits his playing on this one, even as he renders the solo with lots of fast fretwork, it doesn't stray too far beyond the groove.

Trevor also appears in a filmed performance from that same year (the video release is titled Paul Rodgers and Company) with a core band of Rodgers, Neal Schon on guitar, bassist Todd Jensen and drummer Dean Castronovo.  The set is a combination of Rodgers' hits with Free and Bad Company and selections from the tribute, with Trevor appearing to reprise his performance on "Louisiana Blues."  Special guests Brian Setzer, Slash and Trevor appear in a blues jam for the encore, playing on renditions of "Rock Me Baby" and "Crossroads."  An interesting bit of trivia for you: Billy Sherwood - who also served his time with Yes as a sideman on the Talk tour and then as a member of the late-1990s iteration of the band - provided the audio production and mix.

Fashion Watch: that's the same shirt he wears in the Star Tracks video.

Three years later, another bluesman receiving a tribute was the late great Stevie Ray Vaughn and Trevor made an appearance on the 1996 release Crossfire: A Salute to Stevie Ray, which also featured performances by fellow fretmeisters Steve Stevens, Steve Morse, and blues legend Albert Lee among others.  It was great to hear the Maestro had retained his chops after casting off the mantle of guitar god, although in my opinion his solo in "Tightrope" is a little too much in his own style rather than giving the nod to SRV.  During his personal appearance in August of last year, Trevor recalled meeting Stevie Ray and commented on what a nice guy he was, despite his rather flashy persona.

These instances of performing in blues-rock idioms which were not a part of Trevor's formative years gives us an opportunity to appreciate how well he can adapt to different situations, in that he plays with as much fervor and fire as any of those who are the primary progenitors of the genre.  Trevor's shades of blue may originate from a different South (below the Equator) but are equally compelling.