In the late 1970s and early 1980s, the Walt Disney company was in full-on experimental mode, dialing back its animation division and taking risks on hitherto unexplored territory for the company, such as sci-fi pictures like “The Black Hole” and “Escape to Witch Mountain,” teen comedies like “Midnight Madness,” and in the case of “Something Wicked This Way Comes,” fantasy and horror.
The movie based on the popular Ray Bradbury novel finds two young boys, Will and Jim, pursued by the sinister Mr. Dark (Jonathan Pryce) after they discover the secrets of Mr. Dark’s mysterious carnival. Jason Robards stars as Will’s father, older than most, and unsuccessfully tempted by Dark to regain his youth.
The film is bathed in an autumnal atmosphere that extends to James Horner’s score for the film, newly released on a deluxe compact disc from Intrada Records. The main title is a haunting, ominous flute-based tune that chugs along like the steam locomotive that brings Dark’s carnival to town. Sunnier melodies represent the youthful Will and Jim. Horner’s experimental side comes out through “The Dust Witch,” a cue characterized by an eerie women’s chorus. The high-pitched tones continue on various other cues, and are effective when used in the film.
Horner was employed by Disney after the original score, by Georges Delerue, was rejected by Disney for being too dark and foreboding. Delerue’s score was also made available on a now out-of-print disc from Intrada, and I really like the music, which is brassier, bass-heavy, and works a little better outside the film as a pure listening experience. But Horner’s music for "Something Wicked" is the more traditionally spooky-sounding choice, so I can see why Disney wanted to use it instead.
Intrada’s new album adds several minutes of music that haven’t been released before, as well as source cues like the haunted carousel theme, and a brass band that plays ominously as Mr. Dark stares down Will’s father while searching for the boys. Like all of Intrada’s releases, the disc also comes with extensive liner notes and an essay about the making of the film, providing valuable insight into this curious chapter in the Mouse House’s history, when they took some big chances. In 1985, the supreme failure of “The Black Cauldron” put an end to Disney’s experimental phase. A few years later, “The Little Mermaid” kicked off the Disney Renaissance, and nothing wicked would this way come again.
