Akira Kosemura: Rudy (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)
Schole Records

When a soundtrack's released, the question invariably arises as to whether familiarity with the film of which it's a part is required to assess the music's merits or whether it should be judged on its own stand-alone terms. Applied to Akira Kosemura's soundtrack for Rudy, the question isn't so much irrelevant as it is moot: the Japanese composer's work always holds up, regardless of whether it was created for a movie, stage production, or for purely listening pleasure. That the release comprises thirty-one short tracks signifies that the pieces were composed for soundtrack purposes; even so, Kosemura's seemingly inexhaustible gift for melody is on abundant display when so many of these beguiling miniatures provide opportunities for its application.

Even in the absence of a film synopsis, one could still form some sense of the narrative content based on the track titles (“Grief,” “Connecting,” “Heartache,” “Running,” etc.), most of them single-word titles capable of functioning effectively as cues to connect bits of music to scenes. The story for Rudy, the second film by Shona Auerbach (her first, Dear Frankie, brought her a BAFTA nomination for directing) and eight years in the making, runs as follows: set in rural England with the fifteen-year-old title character dealing with family issues during a time of grief, Rudy's life takes a turn when a friendship with Luke, a boy from Coventry and fellow skateboarder, opens her up to new experiences. Described as a coming-of-age story, the film encompasses a broad emotional spectrum with Kosemura's expressive music a superb counterpoint to the onscreen action.

Max Gittings adds tin whistle, but it's otherwise a solo Kosemura affair, with Akira credited with composing, arranging, producing, and performing (piano, electronics, and sound programming). A wistful tone is established at the outset by “Looking Back,” a prototypical Kosemura production in its wedding of hushed piano and electronic textures. Its intimate, fragile character carries over into subsequent tracks, many of them poignant melodic statements lasting no more than one to two minutes at a time (an outlier at seven minutes, the at-times harrowing electronic soundscape “Lost” towers over the others). An occasional piece deviates from that template (the aggressive “Stolen” most noticeably), but for the most part the soundtrack presents one lovely, heart-tugging episode after another, be it the touching “Sanctuary,” gentle “Cath and Thomas,” tender “Kiss,” or uplifting “Escape.” There's sadness (“Gone”) but joy (“Butterflies”) also. While electronics add a shimmering, crystalline dimension to many a setting, Kosemura's piano takes its place solidly at the soundtrack's centre.

October 2023