The art of tension and tragedy: How Leonard Cohen made movies better
Leonard Cohen was, in every aspect, a mystical artist. Even when he performed at Lissadell House in 2010, the promoter said it was a magical experience likely never to happen again – and he was right. Cohen was a poet, a maverick, an innovator, a womaniser, you name it. He was also a true outsider and an unsuspecting movie composer whose lyrics underscored narratives way before directors discovered them.
Although he never really enjoyed mainstream success as much as some of his musical counterparts did, Cohen was a genius in every sense of the word. He might have never been a chart artist, but he did wade in the footsteps of historical and cultural significance, crafting stories and narratives that enlightened the mind to spiritual and existential musings.
He also possessed a certain directness that made simplicity and complexity equally as compelling, capturing both the ecstasy and the anguish of human connection. In the cinematic world, this was a match made in heaven, as Cohen’s communication style could often make a mundane scene feel more profound, allowing a more dense and immersive viewing experience.
If not Shrek, McCabe & Mrs. Miller is perhaps the most obvious example of Cohen blessing a movie project with his own personal kiss of life – whether it’s ‘The Stranger Song’, Sisters of Mercy’ or ‘Winter Lady’, each inclusion enhanced Robert Altman’s beautifully mesmerising vision. Interestingly, Cohen’s words became a conduit for the film even before its finished product, as Altman cited his music as a significant influencer on the narrative and aesthetics.
In fact, Altman once admitted that he chose Cohen’s songs because they were “were etched in my subconscious, so when I shot the scenes I fitted them to the songs, as if they were written for them.” Perhaps that’s what seems the most remarkable about Cohen’s ability to improve any movie – his songs seem as though they were written for the big screen, navigating experiences or various patterns of thought similar to how a screenwriter would.
Of course, Cohen never intentionally wrote songs for films, but the inclusion of ‘Everybody Knows’ in Pump Up The Volume may seem like he did, with the song serving as a poignant backdrop, capturing the disillusionment and unrest felt by Mark and his peers. The song is also used in Atom Egoyan’s Exotica as a tool of warning and challenging, simultaneously revealing vulnerability and seduction as the song’s cynical and fatalistic tone resonates with the underlying tensions and secrets that permeate the lives of the characters.
In a similar haunting and intense fashion, Oliver Stone’s Natural Born Killers utilises Cohen’s ‘The Future’ as a way of highlighting the characters’ chaotic journey and the sense of nihilism and existential dread that permeates the film. “I’ve seen the future; it is murder,” Cohen’s signature raspy voice sings as mayhem unfolds on the screen, providing the perfect soundtrack to the film’s wider exploration of violence, media sensationalism, and the dark underbelly of American culture.
Melancholy and humanity were also huge parts of Cohen’s appeal, which is evident in his Breaking the Waves music cue. In the film, ‘Suzanne’ adds to its overarching themes of tragedy, love and loss, amplifying the raw intensity of emotional turmoil. Of course, ‘Hallelujah’ has been played endlessly in movies and television shows as a way of achieving the same feat, but in this particular context, ‘Suzanne’ offers up an even more intense moment of grief, catharsis, and self-reflection.
Cohen’s music has been used numerous times on the big and small screen as a tool for various emotions and themes. From the dusty, gritty aura of 1970s western to the quirky, polished essence of DreamWorks animation, it’s clear that Cohen’s influence reached far and wide, lining the very existence of cinema without even any predetermined intentions to do so.
