Disclosure Day (John Williams)

What is it?

Steven Spielberg’s latest alien conspiracy thriller, Disclosure Day, has been cleverly marketed and hyped for months – shrewn in secrecy. The end result, however, has divided the waters among both critics and audiences. Basically, it turned out to be “just” a B movie heightened by a master director. But isn’t it a “just” worth appreciating a little bit?

It’s a film that wants to pose the big questions, much like its spiritual predecessor Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) – are humans the best thing the universe has to offer? What is God and what is Not-God? There’s a timely aspect to it too, as it displays a world falling apart at the seams, with questionable truths and international conflicts aplenty. But the core of it all – the “macguffin” – is the quest to reveal secret documents about an extraterrestrial presence on earth.

It’s primarily David Koepp’s fumbling script that makes this a B movie (it harkens back to the days when writers had to churn out scripts quickly, tick off boxes for exposition and setpieces, and then move on to the next project). But Spielberg takes that material and lifts it, adds a musicality and visual flair to it that it otherwise would not have had – be it Janusz Kamiński’s brilliant use of mirrors, windows and screens (á la Minority Report or A.I.), often in a dark/blue-ish hue, or the seamlessness of the dialogue scenes and action setpieces (there are really only two).

Within the Spielberg canon, the legacy of this film might be a parenthesis (much like The BFG). But it’s also a brilliant example of a master director curating flawed material, in itself a fascinating experiment.

Everyone expected The Fabelmans (2022) to be the last John Williams score, for Spielberg or anyone else. That the 94-year-old legend managed to churn out one more at this point in his life, is mindblowing in itself. While Disclosure Day may not be the perfect coda the way The Fabelmans was, there’s a lot to appreciate in the musical score.

How is it?

John Williams had his last “golden year” in 2005. When he returned after a 3-year hiatus with Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull in 2008, it’s as if his style had changed in the interim. More motivic, more cellular, more whimsical, less of the hummable themes and setpieces we were accustomed to. That turned out to be the modus operandi in the years since, more or less, and is also on display in Disclosure Day.

The first half or two thirds of the film are sparsely spotted, with lots of sleuthing and conspiracies. In the few moments Williams does appear, he taps into agitated strings, growling brass and even some synths («dive….», «chase…», «negotiation…»). This is very much in line with earlier efforts like A.I. – Artificial Intelligence, Minority Report, War of the Worlds or Munich. While  these may not be sparkling musical setpieces, they are often interesting rhythmical exercises with an absorbing quality.

In terms of melodic material, there are at least two central components – first is the “connection theme” which alludes to empathy and Emily Blunt’s character’s connection to the world. This bears an uncanny resemblance to «Cinque’s Theme» from Amistad (1997), a soulful, bittersweet call on horns or humming voice, and is stated early on, in the centerpiece track  «listen…». Gotta love those cryptic, single-word track titles, by the way, in all lower case and with three punctuation marks, a first for the composer.

The second can be described as the “memory theme”, and just as memory played a big part in A.I. – Artificial Intelligence, so too does the music here use similar techniques to convey its feeling – tentative choir, or cautious piano solos over chilly string landscapes («memory…», «believe…», «celestial…» ). Inbetween these elements, there are traces of Williams’ beautiful pastoral writing (think Angela’s Ashes, one of his best works) that sadly doesn’t get the space it deserves over the album’s 65 minutes.

In the last 30-45 minutes of the film, Williams’ presence becomes more noticeable, as everything takes a more melodramatic turn. It’s to the benefit of the score, and also the album, that it does, because it makes for a more varied listening experience.

On the one hand, Disclosure Day points back to certain elements in the composer’s past. And I mean that as a compliment, because they are some of the best elements in his vernacular – «listen…», for example, is one of the best individual cues he’s written since that golden year 2005. On the other hand, it adhers to certain more contemporary, rhythmical phrasings and motifs that don’t necessarily light up the room. Like the film, it’s an uneven affair – but uneven Williams is better than most things in any given year.