Interviews
Into the ‘Wasteland:’ An Interview with Composer Mark Morgan
Composer Mark Morgan’s work includes such influential games as Fallout, Fallout 2, and Planescape: Torment, as well a plethora of movie and television gigs. His moody, wide-ranging scores veer into quiet, acoustic territory in addition to the electronic and industrial landscape for which he probably most well-known.
Morgan recently took time away from working on Wasteland 2 to chat with us. Find out what it’s like creating the sound design for the sequel to the progenitor of all post-apocalyptic RPGs in our interview!
The score for Wasteland 2 combines some pretty dissonant percussive and electronic sounds with Eastern and world music elements. How do you come to land on that specific instrumentation blend?
I drew from everything that I believe fits that world, to get that Dystopian feel and that which is distinctly Wasteland 2. It’s not just one musical element but the sum of all its parts that can make that unique texture and create the sound of the wasteland. In addition to the landscape and environments, Wasteland 2 features various tribal cults and different factions within those main cults. To find that sound musically, I combined elements from the modular synth that can be clinical in nature and blended them with a slide guitar or a wind instrument which in turn can evoke emotion and create some interesting sounds that fit the vibe.
Was there something you saw in the gameplay for Wasteland 2 that inspired the tonal palette for this score, or did you already have some pretty strong ideas in mind?
Before there was any gameplay Brian and I discussed the sound palette. I did a couple of demos using the concept art, so we had a good idea sonically of what was working straight away. Then it was a matter of fitting the music into the different sections of the game.
There are two distinct areas in the game, Arizona and Los Angeles, so both had to be addressed with their own distinct sound but still feel as if they are part of the same world.
Arizona needed to be open-sounding and have a strong feel of cold desolation. Because of the desert landscape and the fact that we were dealing with the Rangers, a little twang was needed, so we went with a very dark and minimal use of slide guitar. On some of the tracks, to get that dark vibe, we used a dobro slide and purposely brought to the forefront certain artifacts by recording the noisiest parts of the neck and body of the guitar. After which we blended that with the close mic natural sound. Hearing all the artifacts made it feel really dry and dusty which in turn gave it a more aggressive sound befitting the post-apocalyptic world of the wasteland…
LA has more of a glitchy electronic sound, but still has an organic quality because of the use of certain textures in the underlying ambience that pervades most of the game. The sound of LA is more apparent in the battle moments because of the overall nervous and glitchy, rhythmic components along with more pronounced ethnic elements.
The idea in the game was to tell the story by use of texture as opposed to playing melodies in the traditional sense. In some cases we concentrated on the sound of certain cults to give them an identity of their own. For instance, for the Mannerites, the underlying ambience is aggressive and relentless, and with an added subtle pulse that hopefully gives you a sense of unease that you can’t seem to escape from. Other cults were approached in a similar fashion.
As someone who seems to enjoy a wide variety of sound textures, how much experimentation are you allowed when composing for a game? Or, similarly, are you given free reign and then offered specific notes?
It depends on the game and the developer, but for the most part I’m given a lot of room to experiment and come up with the sound. Because Brian is very open musically, on Wasteland 2 I was given pretty much free reign. As far as he is concerned, almost anything goes if it works and fits the game.
Video game scoring often has to exist within the aural environment
without taking it over, save for the necessary aural crescendos. What is your approach to the background / foreground aesthetic necessary for video game composition?
Obviously you have to set the mood and tell a story so I approached it as if I’m writing to film. I want the player to feel as if they’re immersed inside the game, while at the same time not being too on the nose by telling them what is happening or what to feel. My goal is to be subtle enough not to intrude but give the player enough information to stay engaged. Having said that, in some games you have to be more literal and overt but I think it’s preferable to avoid that approach if possible.
How much of the game do you need to see before you can get a feel for how to approach the music, or do you begin composition pretty early on after you are hired?
As of late I’ve begun writing before there is any gameplay to speak of so the compositional process starts straightaway. For me it’s really about the concept art which in games for the most part tells the story. I’ve also been watching the beta being played on Twitch and other sites, especially when it comes to the battle music. After watching and seeing the actual gameplay I have adjusted the music accordingly.
Is there a certain genre of game that you find yourself attracted to when seeking new projects, or do you gravitate toward works that suit your specific style?
I would say a little bit of both. I do enjoy games, like with movies, that are narrative-driven, and in which music plays an important role in telling that story. I do like to go there and dig deep emotionally so I tend to gravitate to the darker themed subject matter. I’m not saying you can’t do that with lighter material, I just like using a palette that tends to be darker.
I’m always trying to find that perfect project that can fit and be pushed by a certain style of music that I hear in my head. That to me would be the ultimate and most challenging project.
“War of Borders” reminds me very specifically of one of my favorite songs from the DOOM score, and your credits include some very influential games, like Civilization and several of the Fallout games. How has your approach to scoring video games changed between your earlier works and and, say, Wasteland 2?
Interesting question. I think now I’m more engaged in the actual gameplay and what it’s about as it relates to the story. In earlier games, often because of time constraints or maybe just the way they were done usually, I was only given a vague idea on what the music would or could be. I don’t even remember getting any concept art or anything that really related to the game. I would just write what I felt without having much knowledge of the inner workings or subtleties of the game. Maybe in some instances that can work but I do much prefer knowing all I can about the game before I start.
What composers do you yourself admire, and is there a game score you hold up as the pinnacle of the artform?
As far as composers I admire, they come from all genres not just the scoring world. Some that come to mind are Ryuichi Sakamoto, Peter Gabriel, David Sylvian, Alva Noto, Trent Reznor, Miles Davis.
As for games I know there are some great ones but I haven’t listened to enough of them to feel I could give a valid judgment.
Additionally, Stasis looks to be a really interesting game. It has a certain industrial aesthetic that seems to fit nicely with your style. What brought you to become involved in that project, and what can you say about your involvement up to this point? How far along are you in scoring it?
I saw the game on Kickstarter and was in awe of the artwork Christopher Bischoff had created and I wanted to be part of it. I emailed him and asked if he had a composer, he hadn’t so I was able to talk him into letting me do it.
It’s cool in the sense that there really isn’t any music during gameplay to speak of. The score is built around a lullaby that was played on a music box then reworked to fit the emotional moments in the game: panic, friendship, fear, loss etc. So the game has a musical thread that goes through the entire score.
We’re probably a month away from finishing the music and then we’ll take a look at maybe releasing the soundtrack.
Are you a fan of video games with an isometric point-of-view? If not, what sorts of games most readily pique your interest?
I’m interested in all types of games. For me it has to come from an artistic place and the story is also very important. Then the criteria is if I feel I can contribute musically to the project.
What other projects are upcoming for you?
The next project game-wise is Torment: Tides Of Numenara. I’m also working with a friend of mine on a TV show, Aquarius, based on the Manson murders.
The soundtrack for Wasteland 2 can be found on inXile Entertainment’s Bandcamp, and more of Morgan’s songs are available on his personal site, markmorganmusic.com.
Of all the places to find a coven of witches, the attic above a Christian youth camp is probably the last place you’d think to look. But that’s just what we find in Camp, a surrealist nightmare of feminist empowerment from Canadian filmmaker Avalon Fast.
Emily (Zola Grimmer) is still reckoning with her involvement in a horrific tragedy when she accidentally contributes to the death of her best friend, Charlie (Giselle Morison). Unable to move on, the traumatized teen takes a job at a rural summer camp, hoping to forget her own sorrows by looking after at-risk kids. She quickly connects with a counselor named Clara (Alice Wordsworth) and finds comfort in her close-knit group of female friends. But a mysterious whisper from deep in the woods warns that they may be leading her down a darker path.
Fast burst onto the scene in 2022 with Honeycomb, a psychological horror film that follows a burgeoning matriarchy. Known for their focus on “Girl Horror” stories, the talented young filmmaker tackles similar themes in Camp as Emily leaves the modern world behind to embrace a dark vision of self-discovery through magic.
Ahead of the film’s U.S. release on June 26, Bloody Disgusting sat down with Fast to chat about the nebulous nature of good vs. evil and the intoxicating power of female-driven horror.
Bloody Disgusting: What inspired this unique story? Did you go to religious summer camps when you were young?
Avalon Fast: I did. I went to lots of different summer camps, but all of them were primarily Bible camps. The memory I have of camp is kind of strange. I was very homesick as a kid, and I didn’t necessarily enjoy all my time there. I definitely remember meeting some interesting girls at camp and having that presence of religion hovering around the whole experience.
BD: I really love the film’s gorgeous natural setting. Camp is the kind of surrealist nightmare that you don’t just watch. You feel it too. How did you approach creating this world?
AF: Well, a huge part of it was working with my cinematographer Eily Sprungman, who’s a very close friend. We spent years prepping, shot listing, storyboarding, and mood boarding. She’d had a similar experience to mine. We grew up around the same place, and so we understood each other’s visions from the get-go. But there are so many other pieces that came together. The costuming, the art, and the animated sequences were done by Sofiya Iurkevych. One of our producers, Taylor Nodrick, was obsessed with shooting on Super 8 film. I’ve always wanted to as well, so all the memory sequences were shot on Super 8. It was just a lot of people with an understanding and a vision for what this project was. I’m really happy with the way it turned out.
To the extent that you’re comfortable sharing, what’s your relationship to witchcraft, and what does Camp have to say about modern witches?
Well, that’s the question of Camp. It’s not that I don’t resonate with any of these things, but I specifically wanted Camp to be a little bit ambiguous around what witchcraft looks like. Is this witchcraft? Are these girls witches? Emily explicitly asks if that’s what’s happening here, and the answer isn’t yes. The film isn’t going to answer that question for you. My relationship to magic and witchcraft? It’s tough. I feel like there’s so much magic, connection, and spirituality that comes from these friendships, the closeness of these women, and what’s happening around them. A lot of what Camp is trying to say or show is just that magic can come out of friendship.
I loved watching these female friendships develop. And you’re right. No one ever says the word “coven,” but you can feel that connection, and you can see a change in Emily as those relationships grow. I’m also really fascinated with the way Camp plays with the idea of good and evil. At one point, Clara says, “Maybe God drew us to the devil,” which stopped me in my tracks. How do you view witchcraft or the magic these girls are experiencing in regard to good and evil?
That was such a huge part of the script’s construction. The story is really trying to keep a balance between those two things. I like asking people if they think these girls are good or bad, because I feel like a lot of people come out of the film thinking one or the other. They’ll say things like “thank God Emily found her people” or “God, I really wish she’d gone home.” I just don’t think there’s ever an answer. I wanted to explore the idea of going down the wrong path, especially coming out of grief. What makes you a bad person, and does healing mean you’re looking to become a better person? I don’t have an answer, but I do feel like that’s a huge part of what Camp is asking. What is good? What is bad? Why did God bring me to the devil?
Yes, because this is all happening at “God camp” in Emily’s words. So how can both of those things exist at the same time? Along those lines, I’m also fascinated by the voice Emily hears in the woods. Without spoiling too much, what is this voice asking, and what is required in return?
Emily comes to camp with a shout into the void, asking can anyone hear me? Does anyone want to? And it’s answered so clearly by these girls, specifically responding only with love, care, support, and trust. It’s like her prayers were answered. It doesn’t mean that everything is going to be alright, but Emily is looking for peace. She’s looking for a moment where she feels pure good. And I think, even at its surface level, she does get that experience.
Personally, I don’t really think people are good or bad. I think we all exist somewhere in the middle. Camp centers traditionally villainized characters, but that’s where Emily seems to find her peace, however you choose to define it.
I also wanted to show the experience of having decided that you are a bad person, you’ve made mistakes, and you feel cursed. Then when you meet other people who have done things that you would consider worse, you can actually feel good in their presence. You feel like less of a bad person. I think that’s a huge part of the story as well. Emily’s finding her version of other fucked up people, and she feels less fucked up around them. I’ve found that in my own life. It’s a cool thing. I don’t think it’s bad.
I don’t think it’s bad either. It’s finding your home, your people. We meet Emily in the aftermath of unthinkable trauma. Is this a story about mental health and healing?
Witnessing it myself. witnessing other people experience tragedy and then move through grief, you hear a lot of talk about healing or coming out the other side. There’s so much conversation around what that looks like, with self-care and showing up for yourself. I always felt really averse to it. It annoyed me. I think the beginning of the film speaks to that. The therapeutic version of what getting help looks like is obviously very different from what Camp is showing. And again, I don’t have an answer for what you’re supposed to do. But I think that’s another question I was asking: how do you heal? Do you heal at all? Is that the end goal, or are we just trying to get better? It’s something I experienced in my own grief. And the answer, for me, at least now, is just that I’m not looking to get better. So I felt like I hadn’t. I found it hard to find people to have those conversations with. And I think that’s what I ultimately wanted to make a film about.
I love that unanswered question. In my own experience, I’ve had to reframe what healing actually looks like. There’s not really an endpoint. It’s just finding a way to keep going. There’s also an element of sacrifice in this story, particularly regarding another counselor named Jo (Sophie Bawks-Smith). What role does she play in Emily’s journey?
For me, Jo is this human embodiment of Charlie, Emily’s friend. As Jo, she had a life at this camp before meeting Emily, and then was kind of taken over by Charlie’s spirit. I think a lot of people view Emily’s final choice as horrendous and tragic. In a way it is, but for me, if Jo becomes her angel, it’s almost like a self-sacrifice. Jo knows that by sacrificing herself, she’ll be giving Emily power to move forward. In the original script, the girls were supposed to bring out another counselor, JB (Aidan Laudersmith), and burn his body. But I just thought, there’s no way sacrificing this guy could give the girls enough power. There’s just no way, right? Logically, that just didn’t line up for me.
I’m glad you mentioned JB, because he has his own tragic arc. How do men factor into the world of Camp?
The way men factor into my world is so bizarre. I have such little respect for them in my films, which is something I’ve been called on. I think I have to challenge myself in the future to make a movie about a boy because, these boys … It’s not that the men in my films aren’t redeemable, but there’s no depth to these characters. They’re just treated with such disrespect. I don’t know why I do that, actually. That’s something for me to look into. It was the same with Honeycomb. They’re just such peripheral characters. I’ve had people ask about Kayne (Henri Gillespi), the scary guy at the fire, what happens to him? I just think, I don’t know. I don’t care. That’s not the point of the story.
Well, I can say after a lifetime of watching women on the periphery of the story, the course correction feels nice. In a similar vein, I’m in love with your homepage, avalonfast.com. There’s an image of girls on a film set and then a still from Honeycomb in which a blood-covered girl is screaming at the sky. And in the middle, it just says Girl Horror. It’s a really powerful statement that gives me chills. How do you define Girl Horror, and what draws you to these types of stories?
I was obsessed with the term when I started making my movies. It was something I’d come up with to kind of brand myself and describe what I was doing. Then I went through a period where I felt like it was a bit gender exclusive and didn’t interest me as much. But now I’ve come full circle on the term. I think it’s a bit of a commentary on youth and the horror of growing up female. But I think everybody can relate to that experience. I don’t want it to feel like this exclusive thing, that I make movies exclusively for girls, because I don’t think I do. I’m interested in exploring what Girl Horror means. Originally, it was just a title, something I came up with, and now it’s become something that resonates with people. You said it gave you chills. That’s cool for me to hear because there’s obviously some depth there.
Are you working on anything new?
Yes. I am actually making a movie about a boy. That’s the next thing.
That’s exciting! The more I think about feminism, the more I end up coming back to men and boys, because they have a place in the world of Girl Horror too.
Absolutely. It’s all just part of being human.
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