Inspiration Through Music: Bridge of Spies Soundtrack

(I wrote this back when the Oscars were happening… yeah.)

I have always, and will always be a fan of music composed by Thomas Newman. I own a number of his impressive film scores, several of them Oscar nominated or winning and all of them gorgeous in their own right. Little Women, Phenomenon, The Horse Whisperer, Meet Joe Black, American Beauty, The Green Mile, Finding Nemo, Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, The Help, Skyfall…(and let’s not forget TV show Six Feet Under and Miniseries Angels in America)! And now, the dramatic and emotional score for the Oscar nominated film, Bridge of Spies.

I tend to enjoy film scores that are quieter and have very individual tracks. I like less percussion, more strings, piano and chorus, and less brass. Where there are a few of “Bridge of Spies” tracks that have a fair amount of brass (for a very patriotic feel), most of them are thought-provoking and poignant. One always feels as if they are seconds away from danger, that everything hangs in the balance. The story of Bridge of Spies tells of an American lawyer played by Tom Hanks, who is commissioned as a defense attorney for a man who has been deemed a KGB spy. Trying to fight for a fair sentence on behalf of this man is fraught with uphill battles, many in the forms of government officials who don’t believe in him or want him to succeed.

I’ll be sharing a few of the tracks from “Bridge of Spies” with you today along with short descriptions about what I see when I listen to them. This is a writing exercise tactic that helps me to get writing, especially on those pesky Monday mornings. Feel free to read (and listen) on!

Hall of Trade Unions, Moscow: A long narrow hallway darkened by the shadows of pillars. He makes his way down it alone, unsure what he’s going to find at the other end. Cold spurs him on and his insides twist and turn with the anticipation of finding out what lies beyond the darkness.

Standing Man: She peeks from a crack in the doorway, firelight like gold rippling up to meet her eyes. Black silhouettes sat before the flickering flames, their voices hushed and telling their secrets. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but in a way, was glad she couldn’t. The enigmas these men hid were best left undisturbed, left to the ashes and the shadows.

Private Citizen: Her fingers curled in his, cold but firm. He held them at his side, unsure what more he was supposed to do. It was hard to even concentrate on what was happening in front of him, hard to believe he, let alone she, existed in the here and now after all that had occurred. Escaping death as they’d done, all because of a few seconds and a forgotten scarf.

Thanks and keep on writing!



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