R E V I E W:

"Through every rift of discovery some seeming anomaly drops out of the darkness and falls, as a golden link, into the great chain of order." - Edwin Hubbel Chapin

John Williams' Angela's Ashes is not the potent theatrical score one might expect. It is barely disturbing, but is deeply emotional (the primary aspect to prevent one's attention from wandering elsewhere). As with Williams' "Stepmom," people can use this soundtrack to create a checklist for Williams' personal clichés. It is a patchwork. However, "Angela's Ashes" is superior in almost every other aspect, including how it gracefully veils its own shortcomings. It shares a commonality with some of John Williams earlier, but it is not stale.

Based on the award-winning book, Angela's Ashes is the tale of Frank McCourt and his family living poor and miserable in Ireland, struggling to find gladness in the depression. Williams eschews ethnic musical hallmarks ("Far and Away," for example) in favor of a straightforward retelling of the story in a standard symphonic approach. The brass section is kept very low-key, perhaps more so than "Schindler's List," yet the full orchestra builds, rises, and crashes among meditative instrumental solos on cello, harp, oboe, piano, and violin. The orchestrations, though overly familiar, remain amazing and are unpretentiously -- again, also very emotionally -- used. The central melody is a capacious, sumptuous theme (think of that equally well chosen dramatic score by Williams... Seven Years in Tibet), and appears regularly to bring the work together further. Without a doubt, there is as much of Williams' sensitivity as anyone expects. This is his music, and he lets us know it.

Period recordings of 'The Dipsy Doodle' and 'Pennies from Heaven' add to the veritable ambiance and to the album's affectivity. The narration from the film is fractured, unnecessary, and gradually becomes more hindrance than help. Had Williams arranged the music and adapted the narration into a suite (as he did with his "The Reivers" Suite), the accomplishment would be more worth the effort. As is, the effect is like a commercial interruption for disheartening sentiments; the music does commendably on its own, without supererogation from a narrator. Alan Parker's brief comments touch on the genuineness of 'gush notes,' giving a cursory nod to the personal process of working with a great film composer without the longwinded congratulatory babble directors and producers have a fondness for. The disc is not a great victory, but it drops into the general vicinity. And it falls, as a golden link, into the great chain of order. Here is another pleasant addition to John Williams' very extensive and prosperous career.

Jeffrey Wheeler, MusicWeb International [2/2000]