As production was wrapping up on Scream in the spring of 1996, director Wes Craven confronted an unexpected challenge — finding a composer to score the film.
While there was certainly no shortage of talent available, Craven struggled to find a composer whose music struck the right tonal chord for Scream’s fresh blend of influences, meta commentary, humor, horror, and heart. Then, during some downtime on a night shoot, Julie Plec, Craven’s assistant, struck film score gold when someone threw out the name Marco Beltrami, in, where else, but an AOL chatroom.
More than just a bit of endearing ‘90s cinematic lore, this unconventional method of finding a composer was, in many ways, perfect. In the same way that Craven and screenwriter Kevin Williamson sought to reinvigorate the tired slasher genre by subverting expectations and toying with tropes, Craven wanted to make sure Scream’s score would do the same. Rather than retread the minimalist, synthesizer-heavy sound (à la John Carpenter) that practically defined a decade, or take the more traditional full, bombastic orchestral approach (think Howard Shore), Craven wanted fresh blood with a fresh approach.
This strategy would soon pay off, with Beltrami delivering a score that felt refreshingly of its moment, deeply intimate, and oddly timeless. It would also prove to be the moment Beltrami’s career truly began and where the sonic identity of Woodsboro first emerged.
What’s your favorite scary movie?
Considering Beltrami had never scored a big feature before, his blood truly couldn’t get any fresher. On top of that, if Ghostface were to have hypothetically called Beltrami in early 1996 and asked him, “Do you like scary movies?” his answer would have been: no. More a Western guy, especially those of the Spaghetti variety, Beltrami has never shied away from the fact that he had never even seen a full horror movie prior to Scream. Although he did study under Jerry Goldsmith (The Omen, Alien, Gremlins), one of the few composers to win an Oscar for a horror score, while attending the USC Thornton School of Music. So, though self-admittedly limited, Beltrami’s early exposure to genre scores was prestigious, to say the least.
This lack of genre familiarity would prove to be a superpower of sorts for Beltrami. After a successful first meeting with Craven during a private screening of the film, he was sent home on a Friday to score the opening as a test-run, and asked to return on Monday to show what he came up with. Not having time to overthink anything and unfamiliar with many horror film score tropes, Beltrami followed his gut, scoring the scene through Casey’s (Drew Barrymore) eyes.
During a talk at Yale School of Music, Beltrami expanded on this saying, “I wasn’t as consumed with the horror as I was with the humanity.” This creative lens, coupled with Beltrami’s hybrid palette of strings, electronics, and vocal textures, impressed Craven and officially landed Beltrami the gig, complete with a modest $30k package to work with. Unable to afford a full orchestra, Beltrami got creative, utilizing 12-45 musicians in various combinations to maximize the score’s emotional impact, including that iconic cold open.
There are certain RULES that one must abide by.
With “The Cue from Hell,” Beltrami perfectly sets the sonic stage for everything to soon follow. Putting his own spin on the classic “Mickey Mousing” scoring technique, where the music is synced with the action on screen, Beltrami tweaks the idea, directly aligning the scene’s music with Casey’s emotional state. Not kicking in until the famous line, “Because I want to know who I’m looking at,” eerie piano, harp, and strings immediately translate Casey’s internal alarm bells going off. Bursts of brass appear as Casey’s unease gives way to full-blown fear, coupled with interspersed chimes mirroring the cold, piercing sound of the doorbell and ringing phone.
Following the initial discovery of Steve tied up outside, a low, swirling drone supports panning percussive rhythms, lightly punctuated by a simple piano melody, keeping tension ever-present. As Steve meets his unfortunate end, an atonal cacophony of bright brass, agitated strings, woodwinds, and percussion swells as Casey attempts to process and comprehend what she’s seeing. Once Ghostface officially enters the picture, tension gives way to action, with the score’s intensity directly responding as Casey vacillates between flight, fight, and freeze.
Then, as her parents’ car approaches, Beltrami pays musical homage to Bernard Herrmann’s Psycho score, cleverly contributing to the film’s overarching meta commentary. And while the Herrmann nod is nice, to be sure, it is the following moments where Beltrami truly shines. With Casey gasping for breath, desperately attempting to get her parents’ attention, the score pulls back, allowing haunting, manipulated electronic sounds to give way to achingly beautiful strings and layered vocals, telegraphing the tragedy, panic, and subsequent heartbreak experienced by both Casey and her parents. By so intuitively focusing on Casey’s experience in this moment, Beltrami pulls the audience in dangerously close, making those final, perfectly horrifying moments hit all the harder.
This is life. This isn’t a movie.
Everything Beltrami demonstrates in the cold open continues to permeate the score throughout its runtime. For example, with Sidney (Neve Campbell), a gorgeous, wordless solo vocal melody (performed by singer Rose Thompson) often accompanies her scenes. Still struggling with her mother’s murder, this vocal element embodies her grief, always walking alongside her. It also adds a layer of loneliness to Sid and how she feels death deeply, something even her most supportive friends can’t truly understand. Like Sid, these vocals are the true anchor and heart of the score.
The same could be said of the use of the piano, often in similar relation to Sidney. Typically a solo instrument, even in an orchestra setting, it is yet another hint at Sidney’s isolation within her world. A gorgeous example of both is the track “Red Herring.” As Sid kills time with a nap, waiting for Tatum (Rose McGowan) to call, soothing piano and strings embody Sid’s melancholic state. At the same time, the ticking clock within the scene keeps tempo, blurring the lines of cinematic reality. It also highlights Beltrami’s personal affinity for Spaghetti Westerns and classic European film scoring, evoking a vibe reminiscent of composers like Ennio Morricone, Pino Donaggio, and Bruno Nicolai, as well as their frequent collaborations with vocalist Edda Dell’Orso.
Even when not directly tied to one specific character, the attention to emotional undercurrent is always front and center in Scream’s score. Take the track “Trouble in Woodsboro” for example. Here, Beltrami utilizes gritty electronic texture, twangy guitar, layered, manipulated vocals, static, chimes, piano, and percussion to capture this moment in Woodsboro. Despite its clean streets, manicured lawns, and picturesque suburban charm, this particular track shows the darker, anxious side of Woodsboro, simmering just beneath the uneasy surface.
Not only does this intuitive approach deepen our relationship with the various characters and the town itself, but it also provides a clear, decisive separation from the film’s many incredible pop songs. Whereas Beltrami’s score is more internal, supporting the film and its action on an emotional level, the soundtrack builds out the world, grounding it in a larger place and time. Yet even then, Beltrami cleverly blurs the lines. Whether it’s the integration of chimes and bells to partner with the signature sound of “Red Right Hand” by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, or platformed moments of percussive piano and synthesizers to allow John Carpenter’s Halloween score to float seamlessly from one screen to the next, the attention to detail is genuinely remarkable, and a subtle reinforcement of the movie’s hyper self-awareness.
Please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!
Considering everything we’ve touched on (and more, to be sure), and Scream’s huge box office success, it’s no surprise that Beltrami was asked to return to the franchise time and time again. Smartly, even when a sequel wasn’t guaranteed, Craven and Beltrami both agreed not to create a theme or sonic cue for Ghostface. This decision was made not only to distance itself from past horror franchises but also to preserve and foster ambiguity for both current and potential future Ghostface suspects. And future Ghostface suspects there would be, indeed.
Ultimately scoring Scream 1-4, plus three additional movies for Wes Craven: Red Eye, Cursed, and My Soul to Take, Beltrami is now making his triumphant return to the franchise with Scream 7. He would also go on to score films like Snowpiercer for Bong Joon-ho, The Hurt Locker for Kathryn Bigelow, Hellboy for Guillermo del Toro, Halloween H20 for Steve Miner, 3:10 to Yuma for James Mangold, along with dozens and dozens more. Honestly, not too shabby for a guy who didn’t even like horror movies.
And to think, it all started in a little town called Woodsboro.
Special thanks to Ashley Cullins, author of the book Your Favorite Scary Movie: How the Scream Films Rewrote the Rules of Horror, for valuable information included in this piece.