Edward Scissorhands (1990)

It is not the easiest task to combine compassion and creepiness into one musical piece, but Danny Elfman has demonstrated, quite elegantly, just how to do it. Edward Scissorhands is quite considerably his masterpiece, instantly recognizable and hauntingly memorable. The concept of a man-made creation, a recluse who has been left with scissors for hands because his inventor died just before attaching natural ones, is certainly strange and possibly laughable. The film may indeed have played as pure farce if not for Elfman's artistry. While many films use soundtrack as the "glue" of the story, or as border, Elfman saturates every bit of Scissorhands so that it is as much his art as it is the director's (Tim Burton)…

The Danny Elfman & Tim Burton 25th Anniversary Music Box,' a very special box set that features expansions of the 13 original scores that Elfman has composed for Burton's iconic films. This is a newly-produced library of 16 CDs each packaged with artwork by Burton, adding up to more than 19 hours of music, including 7 hours of previously-unreleased Masters, demos, work tapes and other rarities.

This vaunted "new" chapter in the exploits of serial killer/cannibal Dr. Hannibal Lecter is actually the first, essentially a remake of Manhunter, Michael Mann's adaptation of the Thomas Harris novel in which Dr. L. is but a supporting player. But where Mann used a nervous, often ironic rock and postpunk pop score, Danny Elfman's largely orchestral soundtrack here punctuates the film's creep factor with tense arpeggios and crashing rhythms. Nothing wrong with that, per se the old school masters succeeded following a similar tack for decades. But Elfman is no Bernard Herrmann here. In fact, there's often precious little to remind us that this is the same composer who served up such goth-modern standouts as Batman, Nightmare Before Christmas, Edward Scissorhands, and Darkman. It's a score that's masterfully atmospheric, yet strangely sterile - and one that occasionally dithers uncomfortably close to McGoth.

Composer Danny Elfman's score for director Tim Burton's black-and-white stop-motion tale of a boy and his newly reanimated dog is steeped in the kind of rich, choir-driven, harmlessly macabre innocence that supplied 1990's Edward Scissorhands with the heart it needed to break free of its overly quirky trappings. With nods to the frantic, pinball-like precision of Pee Wee's Big Adventure ("Electricity") and the good-natured malevolence of The Nightmare Before Christmas ("Invisible Fish/Search for Sparky"), Frankenweenie is fun, breathlessly atmospheric, and surprisingly affecting. Employing an effortless mix of menace, heartache, and joy, Elfman has crafted his most sentimental and nuanced score since 2003's Big Fish, and while it may borrow liberally from some of his previous works, it's still a joy to listen to from start to finish.