In 2018, the UK’s best-selling album sold 1,600,000 copies nationwide. But the artist that claimed the title wasn’t Taylor Swift, or Kendrick Lamar or any other artist du jour. It was the original motion picture soundtrack for The Greatest Showman. It is clear, then, that the power of the film soundtrack knows no bounds, extending beyond purely cinematic accompaniment and permeating the sphere of pop culture. However, if you’re like me, the conscious recognition of a film score is typically a rarer product of the viewing experience – we are more inclined to highlight outstanding performances, appreciate gripping plot, compliment the odd shot, or even point out just-recognisable actors. Music seldom tops this list and, if it does, it is often due to their titular importance in the genre of ‘music-als’.Â
That is why, after a rainy Tuesday evening viewing of Anthony Bourdain’s new biopic Tony (2026), I was shocked that my biggest takeaway from the experience was how much I enjoyed the film score. At home, I found myself scrolling for the name of the song that perfectly introduced a montage of Bourdain learning to shuck oysters in Provincetown. Now, having added Strawberry Letter 23 by The Brothers Jackson to my music library, I am always briefly, sometimes vividly, reminded of not only the scene, but my visceral reaction to it. This made me realise several things. First, Tony has inadvertently (or perhaps quite intentionally) expanded my music taste. Second, not only was the track evocative at the time of viewing, but it now retrospectively carries the memory of the film. It’s a 4-minute 58 second re-entry point to a 1 hour 46-minute experience. In this way, the song has taken on a life of its own beyond the original artist’s intentions and, thus, becomes a new form of art. A friend of mine who studies Film once told me they are taught that a film is equal parts not just what you’re seeing, but what you’re hearing. Indeed, this is the mark of a successful soundtrack: a living, breathing art form in its own right that, in confluence with visuals, creates cinema.Â
This would explain the sheer risks and sacrifices some filmmakers have undergone to construct their fantasy score. For his movie Reservoir Dogs, director Quentin Tarantino famously blew his entire $30,000 music budget on securing the rights for just one song – Stuck in the Middle with You by Stealers Wheel. In an interview, Tarantino recalled how he’d had his mind set on the song even before hiring his actors and would be content on having no other music in the film so long as he acquired this one. By stroke of luck, the film’s producers avoided this being the only song featured by landing a record deal for the soundtrack. Although Tarantino’s decision was reckless, it is undeniable that the risk paid off. Now, not only has Reservoir Dogs achieved cult classic status, but its kingpin track is now synonymous with the film. Its resonance has become its brand.Â
Whilst the compilation of a soundtrack from existing songs is vital, it would be amiss not to consider the aspect of film scores with perhaps the most creative potential: composition. To return to my experience of Tony, the other aspect of its soundtrack I was struck by was its original motif, The Meaning of Providence, which, in its various forms, was played throughout the movie. The rich, low tones of a few simple piano notes guide the audience through the tumultuous, unstable journey of Bourdain’s younger years so that, arguably, it becomes our most constant, definable and intimate connection to the character. Music may ‘signal’ how we’re supposed to be feeling in any given scene, but it is also crucial to view, particularly motifs, as a visceral extension of the person we’re given access to. It’s a character’s way of being seen without words or really, even visuals. This can best be seen in an anecdote told by the unparalleled composer Hans Zimmer. Introducing a piece at his concert, he told the story of how director Christopher Nolan asked him to write a score from a letter he would send. He agreed and the letter, concerning Zimmer’s son Jake, encouraged him to write a piece about the moment you make eye contact with your newborn child. It was written as a homage to this life-changing instance. When Nolan later revealed this would become the score for a film about galaxies and the universe named Interstellar, Zimmer was left confused, he didn’t understand how this fragile piece would align. Nolan’s response? “I now know where the heart of my story is”.  Because at the core of every film, whether intergalactic or every day, is human connection and what better way to aid and forge that than through the universal experience of music?
Recommendations
I wanted to end this article with some film score recommendations that I came across upon my research. Some were included, others not, but all a worth a listen:
- Peer Pressure by Jon Brion (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind)
- Strawberry Letter 23Â by The Brothers Jackson (Tony)
- Stuck in the Middle With You by Stealers Wheel (Reservoir Dogs)
- The Meaning of Providence by Jay McCarroll (Tony)
- Just like Honey by The Jesus and Mary Chain (Lost in Translation)
- And finally UOB’s radio station, Burst, runs a show called Groovie Movies, highlighting and discussing film scores for those that tune in on Wednesdays at 3pm.
