VENICE MAGAZINE, August 2000

Irony is a precious quality when it comes to scoring comedies, and there are few composers who can find subtlety amidst the orchestral Mickey Mousing that Hollywood humor demands. Studio comedies always seem to miss the point that very little "funny" music is actually funny, especially when the brass and horns are just seconding the pratfalls and fart jokes. It seems that to do a truly funny score, you've got to go small. Away from the increasingly lame land that Jim Carrey inhabits and into the world of smaller films, a place where humor doesn't come in easily digestible chunks. And in the brilliantly surreal universe of Nurse Betty, you won't know whether to laugh, cry or scream in horror. And don't expect Rolfe Kent's music to tell you what to do.

Since his auspicious score for Alexander Payne's Citizen Ruth, this English expatriate has applied his particularly dry sense of humor to American indies with memorable results. From the creepy strings that inhabited The House of Yes to the jaunty accordions that became The Slums of Beverly Hills, Rolfe Kent could never be accused of going for the obvious laugh. But what makes his scores so damn funny is their sheer, subtle lunacy, the kind of oddball taste that can turn a high school Election into a berserk tango or using a mandolin to evoke a deadly pissing contest in Gun Shy. Sure Rolfe Kent can score a lot more subjects than eccentric comedies, as evidenced by the soaring orchestral music of The Theory of Flight and the gripping suspense of Oxygen. But it's these wonderfully independent comedies where he truly shines. No more so than in his score for Nurse Betty. When most comedies' shock value comes from bodily functions, Nurse Betty is the real deal, a mix of quirky characters, bloody violence and dry wit a la Fargo. Comely waitress Betty Sizemore (Rene Zellweger) avoids the reality of her no-good husband by avidly watching the hospital soap opera "A Reason To Love. " where she finds the intrigues of dashing Dr. David Ravell (Greg Kinnear) far more interesting than her real life. Then when Betty witnesses her husband getting scalped in a drug deal gone wrong, she leaves reality altogether. Convinced that she's really a nurse in a hospital that only exists on television, Betty sets off for Los Angeles in search of her beloved David. Her utterly sweet nature lands Betty a job in a real hospital as well as and the admiration of actor George McCord- the "real" Doctor Ravell who's amazed by his "true love'"'s method acting. But one of the killer's of Betty's husband is also in Betty's spell, thinking about the magical life he can have when he tracks down the missing dope and finishes his his last hit, who just happens to be Betty.

Nurse Betty is a dark satire about the difference between dreams and reality, as seen through the comically twisted sensibility of director Neil Labute (In the Company of Men, Your Friends and Neighbors) While everyone in Nurse Betty is acting in some altered state of mind, the real and imagined characters take their roles with absolute seriousness. The deadpan humor here is in the cracks, and Rolfe Kent's eccentric music finds all of them. His score starts with the soapopera's theme, all strings and soaring romance. But this isn't a Naked Gun-type parody of the soaps. That would be too easy for Kent. There's a sweet, goofy sincerity about Nurse Betty 's theme that builds to become the real romantic deal. Kent's music beautifully reflects Betty's journey of self-discovery. It balances her lush, dreamy approach with the downright spooky, synth-driven music of the hit men, a no-nonsense sound that's constantly in pursuit of the Betty's innocent theme.

As in all of Rolfe Kent's serio-comic scores, Nurse Betty finds its humor in a sly sound that's well of the beaten track of comedy scoring. And it's a trip that Kent hopes to continue taking as a composer, his creative radar out for the films that will bring out his music's eccentric rewards.

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I'm English. so I have a dry sense of humor. I hardly ever find broad humor
to be funny.

There's no point where I'm searching for a way of being "different." I'm
aware that people see an eccentricity in my music, which at first surprised
me. I didn't think there was anything unusual going on. But I guess in the
broader context the films I've scored, perhaps there is. I think my music has
a lot to do with my personality.

I couldn't possibly tell you who I am. You just have to listen to my music.
I express something of myself on each film, and I score such a variety of
movies that I couldn't be described as eccentric. One of the great thrills of
this job is doing things that are completely different from the last score
I've done. I can go from doing a score with a huge orchestra to one where
I'm only using a Spanish guitar. When a film is completed, it's not unusual
for the director to say that there's another personality in the picture, a
personality that wasn't there before. That comes from the score.

I really enjoyed films as a kid. And at the age of twelve, something clicked
that the music was doing a lot of work in pulling me into the film. That
captured my imagination. I was already writing music, so I decided that I
wanted to learn enough to become a film composer.

I came from a completely non-musical background, so I had no idea how to
approach film scoring other than hoping that I might get a break if I was in
a successful band. All I knew was that composers like John Barry and Stewart
Copeland started out in rock bands. There was no one to tell me there was
another route in. But after a while, I realized that I just had to
concentrate on writing music for films, starting with student movies.

Well, I always find it weird when people say that, because composers are
always looking for interesting instruments to play. So I figured I must be
doing the same thing as everybody else.

Well good! Certain sounds just do something for your imagination. One of the
great things about having all of this technology is that you have access to
all of these experimental sounds. And it does seem to me that a lot of film
scoring is about juxtaposition, about bringing in new ideas that weren't in
that scene and discovering what happens with them. I've been very fortunate
that so many people I work with encourage me to do that.

Not at all. My mission is to support the film's story, and not do anything
else. But sometimes you can do that in an interesting and fun way.

Working with Alexander Payne is always a joy. We love trying musical ideas
out to see if they're funny or interesting. In Citizen Ruth, we put lots of
Greek instrumentation in. In Election, we went with the Spanish guitar, just
because there's both a lightness and darkness to the tango. It carries a
certain interest. I also wanted to give the character of Tracy Flick a sort
of Americana anthem, almost like something Aron Copland would use in
"Appalachian Spring." Then I stuck a banjo into that music to highlight its
absurdity in this particular context, making it louder and louder.

Oh, absolutely. But Nurse Betty is actually quite earnest when you compare
it to Election. That's a film that's entirely about subtext. Nothing you see
is as important as what's going in the minds of the characters, and certainly
in the audiences' heads. Nurse Betty has a very different kind of humor and
romanticism to it. The main thing I had to do in composing Nurse Betty was
coming up with a main theme for her. And after racking my brain for a few
days about what this film was trying to become, a six-four rhythm popped into
my head as I was driving to the supermarket. I hummed it into my little tape
recorder. Then after I did my shopping, I went home and tried it on my piano.
And that's what became Nurse Betty’s main theme.

It was interesting being in a position where I was really being allowed to
see what I came up with. Very often the context is set out beforehand, and
the filmmakers have a very clear expectation of what the music is going to
deliver. Neil was very curious to see what my music would do, and set a very
high bar for me. That was intimidating in a way, because you realize you're
in a position of helping to define what the experience of film scoring is for
the director. But Nurse Betty was a really evolving and interesting process.
I think I was taken on because of the certain eccentricity in some of my
work, and I rapidly realized that Nurse Betty wanted to be more of a romantic
movie. The great appeal of film to me is that it pulls you into the world of
a particular story. Betty is a character whose perception of the world is
significantly shifted. So there's the fantasy that we're buying into because
we're watching the film, and there's the fantasy that Betty is buying into
because she believes that the soap opera she's followed for so long is
actually her own "real" life. So I get to play with this terrible daytime
soap opera theme, which is unbelievably tacky. Then I get to play it with a
full orchestra when she transforms. The music becomes a searing beautiful
love theme, and you can judge whether or not that's successful.

There's all sorts of things in there. It's very percussive, and there are
drums, marimbas and drones. It's also a produced sound, which is mostly
non-orchestral. I found this wonderful old 70's synthesizer. It sounds like a
farting noise, and I wanted to see how loud I could make it. It reminded me a
bit of Daniel Lanois' music. Every once in a while, a guitar would poke out
so loudly that it would almost seem like a mistake. And yet it was very much
a part of Lanois' production, weird and interesting. Maybe there's that sort
of thinking in the killers' music. But while the Morgan Freeman-Chris Rock
story has a very percussive and dark sound, the rest of the film has lush
orchestrations.

The killers are their own reality. Everything is going on in many different
levels in the film. Just as Betty buys into a weird perception of reality,
Charlie's vision of reality is also singularly skewed in the film.

Deftly. [Laughs].The story has about three central threads that are woven throughout it, and I've written three main themes to give it a sense of whole.

What do you think about the bigger, bombastic style of scoring comedies that
composers like Marc Shaiman (In and Out) specialize in?

I'm a fan of all the varieties of scoring. There aren't many composers whose
music is known for having a sense of humor, They can let the film play
without forcing anything. I don't where that talent comes from, but there are
some people who are very good at it. Marc Shaiman is one of those people. His
music inspires me actually.

Percussion is a big interest of mine, and I play a bunch of different
instruments. I love using kettle drums. They are so pompous and bombastic
that you can put them in music that doesn't seem to justify kettle drums, and
they become a humor all of their own, creating all of these fabulous
expectations. I think it's great to be able to step into the film like that
and create an event with the music. Yet I'm not particularly conscious of
doing anything different. Cinema likes repetition. Look at the space capsule
cue that John Barry wrote for You Only Live Twice. The music is brilliant,
and it's a phrase that's repeated and repeated and repeated. There are also
subtle layers, but that building rhythm just works superbly with the film.
There's something of that philosophy in what I do, the instrumentations that
I use.

I've never counted. I love different sounds and experimenting with different
instruments. It's all self-taught. I wouldn't say I have any great technique
or anything, but I get by. But if one is only able to learn a particular
instrument, then choose the Irish tin whistle. It can play just about any
melody, and it's easy to learn. It's got a lot of heart and soul to it.

I was working with Helena Bonham Carter on that score. There was one moment where the characters were flying, and the music was huge, building, building, building. Then Helena said "It should be small here." And I responded "What do you mean ‘small?' How can it be small? This is the climactic moment." Nevertheless, I tried something very quiet. So the music swells to this huge moment, then it suddenly flips and becomes very serene. It was one of those
moments where you go from the external to the internal world. The external is
the excitement and the thrill of taking off. And then suddenly you go to this
timeless quality that reflects the hearts and minds of the people flying. I
thought Helena had a brilliant insight to the scene, and it worked really
well. That's why I enjoy doing orchestral work, because it lets me listen to
that interior voice. It's those kind of juxtapositions that I really enjoy
playing. A director once assumed that I was in my fifties or sixties before
he met me. He thought to have melody play so strongly wasn't a contemporary
thing. It's not what's going on at the moment in Hollywood. There's an awful
lot of sound design stuff, but there aren't a lot of people who really write
melody or depend on it. To me, the greats are people like Ennio Morricone,
John Barry and Maurice Jarre, composers who wrote wonderful melodies which
stayed with you long after the film. That's one of the great thrills about
writing orchestral music for me, because you get to play really strong
melodic material that has an emotional heart.

When I first got here, an Englishman pulled me aside and said "Never be
self-depicrating. They don't get it." That is the hardest thing for me is to
be paid a compliment and not to play it down. In Britain I'd say "I'm not
that good." But if you say that here, someone will respond "Oh, you
aren't?" and then go hire someone else. So over the years, I've realized
that you're supposed to smile sweetly and say "Thank you."

I'll be doing Happy Campers for Daniel Waters. He's the brother of Mark
Waters, whom I did House of Yes for. I also just finished Town and Country.
The director Peter Chelsom and the editor Claire Simpson gave me a lot of
good guidance on it, and you won't be surprised that the score is very
eclectic. The main strands are a theme for Porter (Warren Beatty) and a theme
for his relationship with his wife (Diane Keaton). One is very mischievous,
and the other has a slightly Gershwin-esque love theme for the orchestra.

Heart and soul. Some people are very good at simply upping the movie's level
of energy, and that's definitely a role that a film composer is asked to
perform. But there are certain composers who go for an interior story, and
that is very much my aspiration. For me, film scoring is about getting inside
the characters and the story, and communicating my thoughts as powerfully,
emotionally and as enjoyably as possible. That approach includes a lot of
these intelligent comedies that I score. The reason the music works isn't
because I make it broadly funny, but because I look inside and see where the
intrinsic humor is. It's not just about pratfalls.