The Unseen Depths: Film Music, Artistic Legitimacy, and the Folly of Elitism

In the landscape of artistic recognition, few injustices are as persistent and revealing as the marginalization of film music by so-called classical purists and cultural elitists. Despite its undeniable sophistication, emotional reach, and deep roots in classical traditions, film music is often dismissed as a lesser art form - commercial, simplistic, or subservient to image. Yet such dismissal says less about film music itself and more about the insecurities and narrow-mindedness of those who reject it.

The irony is rich: many of the pioneers of film scoring were not only classically trained but were themselves prodigies of the highest order. Erich Wolfgang Korngold, for instance, was composing operas as a teenager and was heralded by none other than Gustav Mahler and Richard Strauss. When he emigrated to Hollywood to escape fascism, he didn't abandon high art; he brought it with him. His score for The Adventures of Robin Hood fused Wagnerian leitmotifs with sweeping orchestral brilliance, effectively laying the foundation for the modern film score. Far from degrading the art form, Korngold elevated film music to a new level of narrative and emotional potency. He, and other émigré composers like Miklós Rózsa, Franz Waxman, and Dmitri Tiomkin, were rooted in the same conservatories, traditions, and disciplines as the concert-hall composers whose names purists hold aloft. That these men turned their gifts toward cinema should be seen not as a compromise, but as an evolution of classical music’s role in contemporary culture.

And yet, the dismissal persists. Much of it stems from a rigid cultural hierarchy in which artistic value is dictated by context, not content. Music written for a film is deemed subordinate because it serves a visual narrative. It is labeled “commercial” because it reaches the masses. But such critiques betray an outdated and elitist mindset that assumes artistic purity must be detached from function, relevance, or accessibility. In truth, these arguments fall apart under scrutiny. Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven all composed for patrons, churches, and courts. Their music was often “applied” art in its time, no more or less functional than a modern film score. To disqualify film music on such grounds is not only hypocritical - it is intellectually dishonest.

This pseudo-elitism extends beyond film music to broader forms of cultural expression. The same gatekeepers who dismiss cinematic scores often turn their noses up at modern jazz, electronic music, or experimental visual art, insisting that these forms lack the craftsmanship or gravitas of “serious” art. But aesthetic depth does not wear a uniform. It may appear in the precision of a fugue or in the pulsing rhythms of a synthesizer. It may emerge from a brushstroke or a glitch. To deny the legitimacy of newer forms because they lack the formal training or historical pedigree of older ones is to confuse tradition with truth. It is not an argument for artistic quality; it is a plea for cultural stagnation.

True artistry is not defined by adherence to tradition but by the ability to evoke, provoke, and transform. By this standard, many film composers - past and present - have demonstrated an extraordinary capacity for innovation. John Williams resurrected the Romantic symphonic language for a new generation. Hans Zimmer fused electronic textures with orchestral power to redefine cinematic tension and grandeur. Jóhann Jóhannsson wove minimalism, analog recording, and classical motifs into haunting sonic worlds. These are not minor figures - they are some of the most vital composers of our time, often doing more to keep orchestral music alive in the public consciousness than entire seasons of traditional concert programming.

Ironically, while classical purists deride film music for being derivative or popular, they fail to recognize that popularity and depth are not mutually exclusive. Many audiences discover the beauty of orchestral music through cinema. The swelling strings in a film’s climax, the dissonant build-up to a dramatic twist, the melancholic simplicity of a piano theme - these moments connect millions of people to a form of musical expression that might otherwise seem distant or esoteric. Rather than sneer at this bridge, we should celebrate it.

It is often assumed that classical music audiences are more sophisticated, more musically literate, and therefore more capable of appreciating nuance. But this assumption too reveals cracks. If an audience cannot recognize the artistry of those behind the curtain - the orchestral players, the film composers, the modern experimentalists - then perhaps the sophistication is more performative than genuine. In truth, many are drawn to classical concerts not solely for the music, but for the status, the spectacle, or the appearance of refinement. This is not inherently bad, but it does explain why conductors and soloists are lionized while the collective effort is overlooked - and why film music, despite its shared DNA with symphonic tradition, is seen as “lesser.”

But the world is changing. The 20th century unleashed a creative explosion across all domains - music, art, science, and technology. The loosening of old hierarchies and categories did not dilute culture; it enriched it. Just as artists abandoned academic conventions, scientists embraced uncertainty and abstraction. Just as composers merged acoustic and electronic sounds, engineers fused form with function. This wasn’t chaos - it was synthesis. Aesthetic liberation fed intellectual innovation.

Today, the boundaries between disciplines, forms, and audiences are more porous than ever. And yet, some still cling to the illusion that legitimacy can be preserved by exclusion. They fail to see that the most vital artistic expressions of our time are those that embrace hybridity, accessibility, and emotional truth. Film music does this in abundance.

To reject it is not a defense of art - it is a failure to recognize its evolution. And those who make that mistake are not safeguarding culture. They are simply watching it pass them by.


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