The most interesting thing that happens in Solo is a two second music cue you may have missed in the first third in the movie. I’m serious. Despite that very spoilery surprise cameo at the end of the film, this tiny musical moment takes the cake in terms of surprising things that blew my mind.
And no, this essay isn’t dealing with John Powell‘s mostly unremarkable scoring for Solo, most of it akin to ambient video game music. Admittedly, the knock on Solo’s scoring is a minor problem with a film plagued with some of the laziest writing I’ve ever witnessed in a film not solo-ey marketed at children. I couldn’t resist, but let’s move along.
Knowing Powell and his experienced chops, it’s surprising to note the lackluster nature of Solo’s score. Powell has produced great work in the past, one of my personal favorites being How to Train Your Dragon in 2010. I’m not sure why Solo didn’t build off of the incredible foundation John Williams created to capture the energy of what a Star Wars film should sound like, but that doesn’t take away from one of the film’s most interesting experiments.
Solo’s use of the “Imperial March” may be a throwaway music cue, but it changed how we will contemplate music and music cues used in the Star Wars saga from the prequels to present.
The Imperial Music Cue
So what exactly is making me flip my proverbial film score nerd lid?
In the first act of the film, Han (Alden Ehrenreich) is on the run and is in what can be described as an airport security terminal to get off Corellia. After it’s discovered he is an escapee from Lady Proxima’s child labor camp, the love of his life, Qi’ra (Emilia Clarke), has been caught trying to escape behind the gate and they are separated. Now stormtroopers are frisking and questioning everyone on the “exiting” side of the terminal. Han is running out of time and options. And then, there it is, his saving grace.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees an Imperial recruiting station, with a video screen playing a stormtrooper recruitment ad on loop. It’s basically one of those “GO ARMY” commercials that may have played in front of your screening of Solo. In this moment we hear the delightful tones of the Imperial March. Han hears it too.
Let me repeat: Han hears it too.
So with this two seconds of music we have gained two pieces of important knowledge:
- The Empire has music in the world of Star Wars
- That music is John Williams’ “Imperial March”–with some minor alterations.
Woah.
Diegetic versus Non-Diegetic Music
If you’ve ever listened to me talk to The Cinematropolis’s editor-in-chief Caleb Masters about film scores during “SoundTrek”–our monthly segment on The Cinematic Schematic podcast–then you know how much I love talking diegetic versus non-diegetic music. It’s one of my favorite topics in scoring because the difference can add layers of meaning to your film analysis.
If you’re not familiar with the term, diegetic music in film means that the music itself is present in the world of the film. If someone turns on the radio, a rock band plays a set–if we hear it, they hear it. Non-diegetic music in film means that the music is superimposed on the film later and in the world of the film, characters are not reacting to it or treating it as if they can hear it.
We know this music cue is being used diegetically because there’s a clear distortion on this clipped segment on the modified “Imperial March,” and of course, Han’s reaction. Because this music is being used diegetically, instead of non-diegetically, Solo (and the rest of the Star Wars) now has a new tool at its disposal. To understand what that tool is, we have to talk about music in the rest of the modern and classic Star Wars saga.
The Importance of Musical Themes
One of the building blocks of a beloved film is its film score. John Williams proves the importance of establishing a musical theme non-diegetically that operates consistently in that movie across all of his works. For example, when we hear the Jaws theme, we feel terror. When we hear the Raider’s March, we feel triumph. Before there were franchise spanning blockbusters everywhere, themes were created within a single film to act as a reference point to say “hey, audience, it’s THAT character, feel THIS thing.”
Williams takes that to the next level in Star Wars IV, V, and VI by making the music operate in the same way, but treating those three films as one masterwork. “Binary Sunset” in A New Hope is played as Luke wistfully looks at the two suns set on Tatooine, but after its introduction, it becomes a reference point not just for Luke, but also the nature of the Force. The “Tie Fighter Attack,” piece, when the Millenium Falcon is attacked after Obi Wan’s death in A New Hope, becomes a reference point for Han and Chewie’s successful outmaneuvering of the bad guys and the joyful moment when “that bucket of bolts” makes it through another certain-death situation. These themes are also used to similar effect within the prequels, as well as the Disney-era of Star Wars.
What has changed through the use of a theme operating diegetically within a film is that a composer is no longer limited to musical themes that operate in tandem with the film to support existing concepts around character and feeling. It can be used as contrast to preconceived notions that the theme sets in motion.
Back to Solo–With Mild Spoilers
So now that we have all that unpacked, let’s apply these concepts to the “Imperial March” in Solo.
Han is in the off-world terminal, looking for an escape route. He hears the “Imperial March,” watches footage of triumphant storm troopers marching, and approaches the bored Imperial bureaucrat to sign up as a pilot. One sequence of cringey, heavy- handed dialogue later (you know what it is if you’ve seen it), Han is officially an Imperial soldier, hoping to get a pilot’s license.
Cut to a card reading “Three years later.” Han is jumping through blaster fire on a battlefield that looks like it has more in common with trench warfare of WWI than the gleaming white helmets and high-tech laser fights associated with Storm Troopers from the ad. The “Imperial March” is playing again through this sequence, this time non-diegetically.
The antithetical application of this music is effective and powerful. The same piece of music is used diegetically, then non-diegetically to tell the audience two different ways to think and feel about Han and the Empire. This juxtaposition of contrasting ideas also could not be achieved without understanding how Han is feeling at seeing the ad and hearing the March.
First, Han reacts to the “GO EMPIRE” advertisement, with the “Imperial March.” He sees space and ships flying, which is what he needs. He feels the protection offered by a militaristic enterprise like the Empire. Then he realizes “hey, that’s easy, just join the slightly-menacing Empire and I’ll be back to get the love of my life in no time.” Han may be out of options, but this is a viable solution to his problems. He may not be full of hope (this is the “Imperial March” after all) but he is full of determination for the road ahead.
Second, Han is on the battlefield where he is gripped with the realities of war three years later. We find out that he was kicked out of the Empire’s pilot’s school. His captain is dead. He is stuck on a planet killing its people with no way back to Corellia. He sees the reality of what John Williams “Imperial March” has been conveying since Empire Strikes Back: the determination of the Empire to achieve its rule of the galaxy, no matter the cost. The Imperial March is being played non-diegetically to offer contrast to Han’s reaction to the music in the world of the film. It also offers commentary on nationalistic governments downplaying the true cost of war when recruiting soldiers, something that Star Wars usually chooses not to discuss.
The Power of the Musical Theme
Themes, when used correctly in movies, can provide great depth for characters and emotion in a story. Something, as I discuss with Caleb on this May’s episode of Soundtrek, blockbusters may be getting away from. This is a devastating loss for what these large franchise films have the potential to do. With over 40 years of proof detailing how a theme can cohesively tie a work together through John Williams’ powerful score in the Star Wars saga, the famed composer laid the groundwork for his successors like John Powell to get more experimental.
Even when trying to play off the audience’s preconceived notions to convey contrasting concepts, themes are powerful in film. Nothing beats the rush of joy when the Falcon bursts through the clouds on the Kessel run. And now that the Empire is established with theme music within the world of the Force and Sith Lords, I look forward to seeing how Williams may use this idea to further push the envelope and further the music of Star Wars in Episode IX.
