All language subtitles for MasterClass Danny Elfman Teaches Music For Film - 02.Beginnings

[MUSIC PLAYING]

I was born in Los
Angeles, California.

And I lived in an area
called Baldwin Hills.

And it's a kind of an odd
little area of the city.

But it's an area I really love,
because it was around the block

from a movie theater called the
Baldwin Hills Movie Theater.

And that was my church.

That's where I grew up.

I was there every weekend of my
childhood as I could remember.

And the beautiful thing
of being in the '60s

is that there were
never any parents.

It was very much like "The
Village of the Damned"

if anybody remembers that movie
of these kind of children that

were all born at the
same time because they

were implanted from aliens.

And there was some
kind of evil force.

And this was our world.

This was our playground.

This was our celebration.

This is what we did every week.

We wanted aliens.

We wanted monsters.

We wanted mutations.

We wanted vampires.

This is what we yearned
for, or giant robots

or things of this nature.

So I grew up on movies
in Baldwin Hills

in Los Angeles, California.

You have to
understand me getting

into music is a freak accident.

I didn't have music
in my life as a child.

But I became kind of
a film nerd early on.

And then I think by the
time I hit 16, 15, 16,

I was really into science
in my middle school years.

I was a movie fan but
science is what I was clearly

going to be in my life.

I wanted to be a
radiation biologist.

And I used to do
experiments in my room.

And I took also radiation
biology in summer classes

in Los Angeles at the
science museum actually.

I ended up going to a new
school in a new neighborhood.

And the friends I met were arty.

And they were into music.

They were into jazz.

One of my friends was
actually a trumpet player

who was writing contemporary
compositions even at 16.

He turned me on to "The Rite
of Spring" by Stravinsky

and then more Stravinsky.

And it changed my life.

I dumped my record collection.

And now I'm obsessed
with Russian composers

because Stravinsky
led to Prokofiev.

When I heard Prokofiev,
it was an even deeper hit

than Stravinsky.

Prokofiev got
right into my soul.

That was like this feels like
I've heard it all somewhere.

I've never heard it
but it feels like it's

in my blood, which
is half Russian.

I felt like it was my music.

Now I'm 18.

Still have never
played an instrument.

And I'm planning a
trip around the world.

I wanted to take an
instrument with me.

I was going to spend a year
going through Africa and then

over to Asia through
India, Nepal,

and work my way
back to Los Angeles.

And my friend Leon
Schneiderman, who was later

the saxophonist in Oingo
Boingo who was already

playing saxophone as
a kid, but he and I

were making this trip together.

We plotted it out.

But I wanted to
bring an instrument

and secretly learn something.

So I picked the violin.

And the reason I
picked violin was

due to a jazz violinist
named Stephane Grappelli.

And I said that's something
I would love to try to do.

So Leon made this
incredible perfect case--

strong canvas case with a strap.

So when I head out
to Africa, not only

do I have a super overloaded
backpack that was ridiculous

but over the right shoulder
would go the violin.

And I set out for this journey.

First stop was Paris, France.

My brother was living there.

And he was the
conga drummer with

a crazy French musical
theatrical troupe

called Le Grand Magic Circus.

And from there, Leon and I met.

We go and live for
a month in Lanzarote

in the Canary Islands.

Now he's playing saxophone.

I'm playing violin.

You know, we're
jamming every day.

And then, finally, we
head off to Africa.

And now I'm really
starting to interact,

because the music in
Mali is incredible.

I started jamming with people.

I would meet musicians.

And they would play the balafon.

And I was learning how to
play the balafon, which

was like a marimba,
which you could see

became kind of a lifelong thing.

And I was playing
with musicians.

And it's the first time
they heard violins.

And they weren't like
judging me like, oh yeah,

we've had much better violinists
through here than you.

And my travels
through Africa, it

wasn't like I was becoming
a much better musician.

It's more about
opening up my ears

and my perception of music
that was really starting

to make the change in me.

And that's where I was starting
to absorb music and listen

to it in a different way.

When I finished
this trip, I think

I was a different person
than when I started,

and both because of the
music I was hearing,

the interfacing that was
happening to me on this trip,

but also because I was
transforming as a human being.

Leon and I split
up along the way.

So half of the trip
I was by myself.

And that meant I was going weeks
and weeks without speaking.

And I think it
had just something

to do with my red hair
and very white skin.

And I looked a bit like
a ghost or a demon.

And nobody would look at me.

Nobody made eye contact with me.

And I started feeling like I was
invisible, like I was a ghost.

This is heavy for a
middle class American kid

who's never experienced
anything outside of suburbia.

So it was starting to penetrate.

I started getting letters
in different cities

from my brother who was now
moving back to Los Angeles

to start his own musical troupe
inspired by Le Grand Magic

Circus.

And I remember getting a letter
saying we have it together.

There's seven of us.

It's called the Mystic
Knights of the Oingo Boingo.

And you're going to be
our musical director.

They all played to a couple
of instruments-- drums,

lots of drums, and a clarinet
player, and an accordion

player.

And they passed the
hat in the streets.

So this was what I was
becoming musical director of.

And so from the day I
arrived home from Africa,

I was musical director
of the Mystic Knights

of the Oingo Boingo,
which was as ragtag

a group as could possibly be.

But then began the
next part of my life.

How did I get into films?

It's all part of
a crazy journey.

[VIDEO PLAYBACK]

(SINGING) Well,
son, let me tell you,

I'm so pleased to meet you.

The boys and I've been
expecting to greet you.

[END PLAYBACK]

In my mind, I
lived in 1933 Harlem.

That's where I lived.

That's where I belonged.

OK.

My bad luck.

I was just born out of time.

I happened to be in
1975 Los Angeles.

But that didn't mean shit to me.

I was 1933 Harlem.

And I didn't even want to hear
anything written after 1936.

And I started to
feel more confident.

And then I started writing
arrangements of things as well.

I wrote a piece towards the
end there when we were starting

to get pretty good called the
Oingo Boingo "Piano Concerto

Number 1 and 1/2."

There's 12 of us.

One was just an actor you
know acting out the scene.

Everybody else was playing.

And the pianist actually
had quite a difficult part

as they all were.

But it was a real arrangement.

And I feel like I'm
finally starting

to get comfortable with this.

And then the next inevitable
collision in my life happens.

I get up.

I happened to turn on the radio.

And I hear this music.

And I'm going, oh fuck.

And it was ska
music from England.

Now I love the African
music I heard over there.

It was called high life.

And the high life was
kind of inspired by reggae

with a little bit
of salsa mixed in.

But it was all like three piece
horn sections and five piece

rhythm section.

And now I'm hearing
the ska music,

which was like the high life but
with a big shot of adrenaline

in it.

And always being somewhat of
a hyperactive person, I said,

I like this.

I want to be in a ska band.

And within a year,
Mystic Knights were gone.

They were dissolved.

So all of a sudden,
my world musically got

turned around again.

And the irony is that now
for the next five years,

I never have to write anything
down again, because with a rock

band, you don't fucking
write music down.

You know, it's like you
play it on the guitar.

And everybody picks it up.

And then you're off and running.

And I thought to
myself, what a waste.

The last seven years of my life
have been a complete waste.

All that ear training,
all that work writing down

Oingo Boingo "Piano
Concerto Number 1 and 1/2"

is all just useless time for me.

Oh.

Was it?

It's 1985.

And I get a call from my
manager for Oingo Boingo.

And he says there's a young
animator filmmaker named

Tim Burton who's doing a--

you know who Pee-wee Herman is?

I said, oh yeah, I used to--

we used to go see Paul Reubens
perform the Pee-wee Herman

character and The
Groundlings in Los Angeles

much earlier than Pee-wee
became Pee-wee and was just one

of several characters he did.

And I knew he was amazing.

When he came out as
Pee-wee in The Groundlings,

the audience went nuts.

So I said, yeah.

I actually know who Pee-wee
Herman and Paul Reubens is.

And I met with Tim.

Didn't know who
he was, of course.

You know, he was
a Disney animator

that was making his first film.

And I thought they
wanted me to do a song,

because I was
starting to do songs

with Oingo Boingo for films.

And I've done several.

And he said, I'd like
you to do a score.

And I go, a score?

I don't know anything
about film scoring.

He says, I think you
could do a score.

And I go-- and this is
pretty much verbatim.

It's like-- I'm thinking.

And I said, I think, why me?

He goes, I don't know.

I've heard Oingo Boingo.

I see the band.

And I just think you can do it.

And he shows me
some of the film.

And as I'm looking at the
first scene of Pee-wee riding,

I'm actually starting to
hear a tune in my head.

And I say that's never happened.

I've never responded
to visual stimuli.

But I heard
something in my head.

And I drove home and went
right down to my studio

with my little four
track tape player.

And I made a demo
of this piece that I

started hearing while
I was watching it

and heard all the
way home in the car.

And I recorded a minute
and a half of music.

I put it on a cassette.

And I sent it to Tim Burton and
didn't think about it again.

And I really figured it
would just get thrown away.

A week later, I get a
call from my manager.

He says you got the job.

And I say to my manager, I
say, tell him I can't do it.

He goes, why?

Because I will
fuck up their film.

And he's a really nice guy.

And I don't want to
fuck up his film.

But I'll fuck up his film.

He goes, you call him.

He says, I've spent all week
putting this deal together.

Here.

You want to call him,
here's the number.

And I sat for a day kind
of looking at the phone,

thinking of picking
up the phone.

And then finally, I
was like, fuck it.

Why not?

It's like if I fuck up
his film, it's on him.

I mean he made the choice.

They'll find another composer
that'll do a better score.

So I didn't make that call.

That little demo became the
opening to "Pee-wee's Big

Adventure" pretty much verbatim.

[VIDEO PLAYBACK]

[MUSIC - "PARK RIDE"]

[END PLAYBACK]

Comedy writing and film
scoring in the mid '80s,

it was in a weird place.

Nobody quite knew what to do.

The old stuff was disappearing.

New styles were starting.

Hollywood was not
quite understanding

one way or another.

Orchestral film composition
was kind of dying.

Comedies were
mostly being scored

with kind of a jazz ensemble,
or a small ensemble,

or synthesizers.

And nobody-- there
wasn't like a sound.

It was just a blank area.

And especially for a
quirky or comic films,

they just didn't know
what to do with it.

And little did I know that
doing "Pee-wee's Big Adventure"

was exactly the right thing
at exactly the right time.

Now you have to realize
I expected the score

to get thrown out.

I finished it.

Tim was great to work with.

I was able to write
the whole thing down.

And the experience
of recording it--

oh my God.

And I didn't know what
to do with myself.

I was in a band.

And so I had a
number of years where

I was struggling to figure out
how do I work in another film

score in between my recording,
producing, and touring schedule

with Oingo Boingo.

But I was committed
to doing that.

The first time I was in front
of an orchestra in my life

was hearing my own
music played back.

I had never stood
next to an orchestra.

And hearing that sound,
it sounded so much better.

And it even sounded better
than I imagined in my head.

And it's like I want to do this.

[VIDEO PLAYBACK]

[MUSIC - "BREAKFAST MACHINE"]