Many song-based soundtracks aren’t much more than just a clump of tunes the director happened to like. The God Help the Girl OST however is impossible to pry from the movie that gave it life, in this case a full-fledged musical crafted by Belle and Sebastian principal Stuart Murdoch. Both the film and its 2LP counterpart are imperfect specimens significantly bettered through stylish daring.
God Help the Girl began in the midst of last decade, an endeavor matching Stuart Murdoch’s songs to female vocalists Catherine Ireton, Celia Garcia, Brittany Stallings, and others as Belle and Sebastian served as backup band. Along with some singles a self-titled LP was issued in ’09; many of those songs figure in Murdoch’s recently released film of the same name, now sung by actors Emily Browning, Olly Andersen, and Hannah Murray.
Talk of God Help the Girl as an exercise in unbridled twee is greatly overstated. To wit, this version of “Act of the Apostle,” like the original found on Belle and Sebastian’s ‘06 LP The Life Pursuit, is nearer to yé-yé and ‘60s TV variety show lushness than to the fragile innocence of twee; amidst boldly arranged strings/horns the guitar and Browning’s voice gradually blossom into a decidedly sophisto-mainstream affair complete with big leg-kick theatrics effectively highlighting Murdoch’s Musical conception.
By contrast, “I Dumped You First” offers acoustic strum and Alexander’s vocal accented by backing shouts and handclaps; it’s a likeably humble little number but more importantly is exactly the sort of ditty, both in style and value, that Alexander’s character would pen and perform in the context of the film (in real life he’s part of the band Years & Years).
And the same can be said for Browning’s brief piano ballad entry “Pretty When the Wind Blows,” which joins “I Dumped You First” and “I’m Not Rich” as Murdoch’s new compositions on the record. All three solidly detail the reality of the film’s characters, to varying degrees talented but full of promise rather than fully developed artists. Elsewhere, the larger-scaled productions emphasize the unreality of that aforementioned Musical ideal.
Amongst these examples sits the titular theme song, easily one of the best from the project, a breezily shuffling tour de force brimming with Browning’s plainspoken and well-delivered sass as plentiful strings, indeed some very attractive pizzicato flourishes, help to establish the tenor of the picture and its soundtrack.
The pop-musical template of Richard Lester, nods to the Kitchen Sink, the accessibly whimsical side of ‘60’s Godard, fellow Scotsman Bill Forsyth’s ’81 Gregory’s Girl; Murdoch’s film brings these precedents and more to mind, though to his credit he’s largely disinterested in homage. If the influences aren’t hard to figure, it’s refreshingly offbeat if casually similar to Damien Chazelle’s outstanding ’09 Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench (like God Help the Girl shot on Super 16mm) and John Carney’s terribly overrated ’07 Once.
The soundtrack is inextricably tied to the film, in fact stuffed with dialogue snippets that will surely result in varying listener mileage, but the music is frankly far more wide-ranging than I expected. A major component in its success is the sturdy non-flash appeal of the actor’s voices, especially the rich unfussy singing of Browning; on “The Psychiatrist Is In” she reminds me a bit of Zooey Deschanel.
Hannah Murray’s pipes are an unusual mix of breathy and nasal as they open “If You Could Speak” with amateurish charm, tandem whistling rounding out the innocuous sunshine sing-along. By comparison, “Perfection as a Hipster,” which features The Divine Comedy’s Neil Hannon, is utterly pro in execution, his croon deftly meshing with the soaring strings that take it to the finish.
Murdoch’s young hopefuls and the realization of their aspirations at the crossroads of music and cinema; this is the predominant business attended to throughout, though deviations do arise. For example, if you’ll excuse my French there’s “Fuck This Shit,” a Belle and Sebastian instrumental initially appearing on another OST, specifically Todd Solondz’ Storytelling, that kinda sounds like incidental music composed by Lee Hazelwood for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.
As a string section gets frequently and beneficially employed across the double vinyl, “Pretty Eve in the Tub” is the first track to really give a bear hug to the baroque, achieving such via lilting catgut and chamber-situated harpsichord. Combined with the sheer emotional nudity of Murdoch’s lyrics as Alexander immerses them in earnestness bordering on the embarrassing, it’s the moment on God Help the Girl most accurately sized up as twee, and more late-‘60s (during the film Alexander spins a Left Banke 45 on a turntable) than ‘80s indie pop.
“A Loving Kind of Boy” finds Belle and Sebastian’s Stevie Jackson in the lead on an uptempo cut blending those swooping strings and a wildcard mariachi horn, so it’s safe to assume David Axelrod and Bruce Botnick would approve. “Come Monday Night” slows the pace, striking my ear like Camera Obscura collaborating with the Ladybug Transistor as “I’m Not Rich” underlines a musical odyssey disinclined to dabble in rockist tendencies.
Instead it fleetingly attempts to hybridize with hip hop/dance music (a reliable indie pop maneuver) as the characters revamp A Tribe Called Quest’s “Can I Kick It?” into a tidy hunk of exposition. It’s interestingly unexceptional and not used in the film, the exclusion making as much sense as its appearance on the soundtrack.
But “I’ll Have to Dance with Cassie” is a gloriously ascending pop production that securely reinforces Murdoch’s understanding of the Musical form; it provides a highpoint to both film and OST, a climax after which the record’s energy diminishes a tad, though the Celia Garcia-sung “Baby’s Just Waiting” is a pleasant immersion into lightly jazzy pop. The multi-tiered “Musician Please Take Head” also stands up to repeated play.
Browning’s sang on film before (apparently in Sucker Punch); based on her efforts here she could front an indie pop act minus a hitch. Her abilities intersect well with Murray’s, who on “I Just Want Your Jeans” again radiates an appealingly modest allure pertinent to her character; it’s reminiscent of a theater student of adequate talent conquering a role through copious verve, though she’s appropriately cinematic, never playing to the balcony.
“Invisible” begins winding the set down. A recurring motif in the film, the short contemplative instrumental sports the cello of former B&S member Isobel Campbell, so old fans take note. “Down and Dusky Blonde” has Browning and Murray together on a pretty mid-tempo selection containing mildly expository words, and “Dress Up in You,” the second of The Life Pursuit’s fitting borrowings, brings the record to a temperate close.
Some have commented that the movie comes up lacking betwixt the musical sections, a tale not as engaging as its bouts of song. I won’t necessarily disagree but will add that the plotting, while not exactly rife with drama, worked for this viewer. This means I’m cool with the dialogue clips even as I’ve already began skipping over Alexander’s didacticism on the nature of Pop to get to “I’ll Have to Dance with Cassie.” And if Murdoch doesn’t penetrate into the psychological problems faced by Browning’s character, neither does he patronize her.
As the film unspools significance is lent to the project’s chosen title. Murdoch’s not averse to dipping into spirituality, but it’s the belief in the healing power of music and art that’s in evidence throughout, the soundtrack shouldering its flaws as endearingly as the film. In exploring the possibilities of the musical, God Help the Girl also strives to attain what Martin Phillipps’ called the Heavenly Pop Hit. On a few occasions Murdoch and his cast and crew come pretty close.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B+
