Bards of The Shadow Zone: A Talk With Danny Bensi & Saunder Jurriaans

I interviewed Danny Bensi and Saunder Jurriaans via Zoom for an audience of twenty-three aspiring film composers attending the Film Scoring Academy of Europe’s summer program on the Black Sea in Varna, Bulgaria. Just five days earlier, we’d hosted James Newton Howard, and there are probably those (folks inclined to see things in binaries) who would opine that JNH epitomizes the traditional “old school, ” melodically-based approach to film scoring, while Bensi & Jurriaans are its textural cutting edge. As with most such aesthetic judgements, that’s far too pat. I’ve never heard a James Newton Howard score that didn’t sound ‘contemporary,’ and Danny and Saunder are a universe away from the sort of sonic wallpaper that often passes for film music these days. Still, there’s no question that B&J are traversing a starkly different musical landscape from the one we came to know in the 80s and 90s, and it’s the landscape that the most distinctive filmmakers of the current era want to occupy. In just nine years (counting from the release of Denis Villeneuve’s Enemy), they have established themselves not just as the go-to composers for premium small screen drama (HBO could hardly function without them), but for a whole sub-category of screen fare that might best be described as ‘psychically disturbing.’ They are the poets of the uncanny valley we now find ourselves in, the bards of the shadow zone, and their music is as addictive as a drug. What follows is a condensed version of my talk with them.

AH: “The scariest strings in showbiz.” If you guys asked me for a “pull-out quote,” that’s one of the options I’d give you. Let’s start with that and you tell me if you think it’s an accurate characterization, and if so, why, and maybe a little bit of how. You’re both ‘string players,’ so share as much of your secret recipe as you’re willing to.  

DB/SJ:  We veer away from ‘traditional' orchestral techniques and we stray from midi samples like the plague. We like to begin exploring with one or two string instruments and see what kinds of sounds/techniques are effective purely on their own. Here’s an example: a stark attack on a single long note played on the violin which then eerily ‘withers’ because the pressure of the bow being released…repeated over and over. Perhaps that note is being played with no vibrato - just an icy cold note that becomes frail and tattered. The importance here is when the withering might begin and for how long it lasts…can it be repeated sporadically so it feels 'out of time’? Is it useful to do so for the scene? Then there’s the conviction of the performance - does it sound purposeful and stark?  In other words, is there a way the performance of this repeated note can match what’s brewing on screen?

AH: “Unsettling” is another word I’d use to describe your music. Of course, this is in service of some often very unsettling stories, but still, you make choices…and they are very different choices from the ones made by, say, the guys who do Stranger Things. Is it a part of your m.o. to want to get under our skin?

DB/SJ: "Getting under your skin” is often one of our goals.  Usually that means having one aspect of a composition be ‘slightly off’ - whether a note is perhaps bending out of tune, or a rhythmical aspect is played too late or too early, or a pedal tone creeping in but in the wrong key. Whatever the case, the effect must still be elegant and thought through - not brash and obvious cartoon-like scary music. Subtle repetitious melodic phrases, long unnoticed crescendos, uncommon rhythmic ideas being repeated almost subliminally and relentlessly - almost as if we’re stuck in some kind of inescapable evil prayer/chant.  

AH: “Stuck in an inescapable evil prayer” would certainly describe something like your score for The Outsider, and that quality of malignant mesmerism goes straight back to the score that put you guys squarely on the radar screen, for Denis Villenueve’s Enemy. What you capture isn’t so much genre ‘horror’ as the heart of darkness. Speaking of choices, I talk to my students a lot about the importance of discernment in taking projects. Sure, in the beginning, they may not be in a position to turn a lot of things down, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be actively looking for filmmakers and projects that will allow them to be who they are as artists. It strikes me as more than serendipity that you guys have wound up on the shows and films you have. How much of this was proactive on your part?  

DB/SJ:  It was a rather slow dance in figuring out where our strengths lay as composers (and honestly, we’re still on that road!). We indeed accepted just about any project that came through the doors...  Some of our projects came through friends who were first time filmmakers, some hearing about us by word of mouth, and some by us taking meetings with film studios and producers of all varieties.  We always attended film festivals, events, and screenings related to our films.  We’d keep our ears to the pavement about any new films being made and make sure to reach out to the filmmakers wherever possible. All in all, we certainly were very proactive to get projects - working above and beyond to deliver our best possible work on time and to make sure everyone was super happy working with us - so that they would feel more than comfortable calling us again down the road.

AH: I know this question invites the sort of self-puffery that serious working composers like to avoid like the plague, but when you work, say, on a show like The Staircase, do you think of yourselves as doing the work of artists as opposed to merely talented artisans? That certainly seems to be a reason filmmakers are coming to you. 

DB/SJ:  Probably both. We are ‘artisans' working with our hands/instruments/tools to create a product. But we are also ‘artists' envisioning what kind of music is needed and why. As artists we must analyze the film, it’s characters, and storylines - and then figure out musically what style or approach is going to fuse everything together (and try to make the director/team fulfill their goals for the film). 

AH: As a follow-up to the previous question, if music written for the screen can be art—and I believe it can be in service of a project that deserves that label—then how would you describe the things you’re doing musically to advance the state of the art?

DB/SJ: Well, we really use the medium as a vehicle for creating art! I mean, of course we are working in service of the film - but at the same time we are just finding excuses to do what moves us as artists! That’s why its so important to us to create new ideas and sounds for each film and not just rehash the same thing that worked for one project and could probably work for many more. 

AH: You’ve worked, both in film and television, with some very strong and creatively determined people, and they are repeat customers, so something must be clicking. I want to ask you about your working relationships with some very specific filmmakers: Antonio Campos (The Devil All The Time, Christine, The Staircase), Jason Bateman (Ozark), Brit Marling (The O.A.), Joel Edgerton (The Gift), and last but not least, the extraordinary team of directors on TOKYO VICE. Can you give me a kind of brief that describes your dynamic with each of them? 

DB/SJ:  Perhaps the best way to answer this question is to mention what all these directors have in common when working with us. They all came to the table requesting that we should “do what we do” and “follow our gut”. We love when a director says things like that to us. It alleviates expectations on our end and allows our creativity to flourish unhinged. When we do discuss things, they usually revolve around describing the scene - making sure we are all on the same page about what’s happening…so that we can then try our experiments musically without completely missing the mark.
  
AH: You guys were on the leading edge of the trend toward composer “teams,” and from all indications, it seems to be working out. I’m sure that, like any marriage, it has its difficult stretches, but it yields good “progeny.” How would you describe how the two of you play off and compliment each other? Is it a sort of yin-yang thing?

DB/SJ: After so many years of writing music together, we probably have an innate short-hand ingrained is us that we’re not even wary of.  By far, the biggest and most successful aspect of working together is the respect we have for one another.  A second set of trusted ‘ears’ in this business goes a really long way. It also combats procrastination - when one of us gets stuck or just doesn’t know how to complete a cue or know what’s needed to complete it, we can quite simply hand it over to each other and say “can you take a look? Is this too busy? Does it need more?” I think we both feel honored to help each other grow and learn.  

AH: Who are you dying to work with that you haven’t yet? And why?

DB/SJ: Many directors we’d like to work with already have their go-to composers.  For example Jonny Greenwood with Paul Thomas Anderson or Hans Zimmer with Chris Nolan and now Denis Villeneuve (who we’d love to work with again). However, what’s more exciting than shooting for the top? Who knows - maybe one of them wants to take a chance?! But we count ourselves lucky to have worked with so many talented directors and to grow alongside them. That’s why we never shy away from low-budget projects - there is always potential for the next great director and we want to cultivate those relationships as early as possible. 

 AH: Finally, my aspiring young composers will bust me if I don’t ask one geek question. If you had to make up a shopping list of the essential tools— both hardware and software, as well as human resources—and the budget required to set up a fully functioning music production studio, what would be on that list? 

DB/SJ: It really doesn’t take much. We started scoring films in Saunder’s Brooklyn apartment living room. There was no isolation and you could hear cars, people and birds outside. We basically had a laptop with Protools, one good microphone, and a ton of instruments! Now we have all sorts of toys that are great, but I wouldn’t call any of it “essential”. Sometimes having limitations is the best way to stimulate creativity.