The Score

This is the movie that gave us the phrase "Klaatu barada nikto!" As befits the film that kicked off the Atomic Age's obsession with flying saucers and giant robots, Bernard Herrmann's score is the last word in 1950s sci-fi. Although many of its elements have become cliches over the years, the original has lost none of its power. Thanks to the many eerie, theremin-drenched passages, it's almost impossible to hear that instrument without thinking about guys in space suits. Other great moments: tinkling space pianos, ominous robot monster chords, and weird, plangent orchestrations. One of Herrmann's most visionary and influential scores.

After establishing himself as a science fiction hero in Planet of the Apes, Charlton Heston went on to do a string of films in this vein. One of the most beloved of these films is The Omega Man, a post-apocalyptic adventure that featured Heston as a scientist battling a vengeful group of mutants as he searched for fellow survivors in the ruins of Los Angeles. One of the most distinctive elements of the film was its score, which was composed by sci-fi vet Ron Grainer (The Prisoner, Dr. Who) and combined traditional orchestral film score elements with strong elements of pop and light jazz. A great example of this style is the film's main theme, "The Omega Man": its first part layers lush strings and gently jazzy horns over a pop-inflected rhythm section and its second part allows a mournful, jazzy trumpet solo to take the fore over a backdrop of acoustic guitar and spacey electronic keyboards. The score also features a preponderance of exciting action cues, like "On the Tumbril" and "Surprise Party," which combine the regal horn arrangements of traditional film music with spacey synths and exciting rock-style drumming. Elsewhere, Grainer shows a gift for crafting easy listening-style melodies on lighter cuts like "Bad Medicine for Richie," which mixes a string-sweetened melody with acoustic guitar and a subtle rhythm section.

Given that John Williams has his pick of much of the $80-million, thrill-packed boilerplate that comes clanging out of Hollywood every summer and fall, it's especially noteworthy (and often gratifying) when he doesn't exercise his option. In scoring Alan Parker's adaptation of Frank McCourt's Pulitzer-winning memoirs of his dire Irish upbringing in the 1930s and '40s, Williams has produced a graceful, autumnal work of compelling, though decidedly delicate, emotional power. Using spare piano and solo woodwind melodies filled with longing eloquence, Williams effectively punctuates a sweeping, largely string and wind ensemble. As he did to great effect in The Phantom Menace, the veteran leans heavily on his classical moonlighting duties for inspiration. Interspersed throughout (and also effectively underscored by his music) are concise, telling excerpts of the film's narration read by Alan Bennett.

Maurice Jarre wrote the central musical motif of his score for Doctor Zhivago, "Lara's Theme," in a few minutes in a hotel, amid a frantic five-week rush to score the 197-minute movie. That theme made the Doctor Zhivago soundtrack album one of the biggest selling soundtrack of the 1960s, a considerable feat when one reckons in the competition from A Hard Day's Night, Never on Sunday, A Man and a Woman, Exodus, and 2001: A Space Odyssey. The rest of Jarre's score is more in the realm of lushly textured Russian-themed mood music, filled with dark male choruses, folk and folk-like themes, and dense orchestrations, sort of faux-Tchaikovsky. The stereo separation is used to good effect, and the music as a whole forms a kind of romantic/exotic travelogue as much as a dramatic sketch of the movie's action.