
by Sam Juliano
When a freak accident claimed the life of Polish composer and jazz pianist Krzysztof Komeda at the age of 38 in 1969, the film community lost an invaluable talent at the peak of his artistic powers and a young man was cut short well before his time. Indeed, director Roman Polanski, in the liner notes to a 1997 Komeda tribute album wrote: “Krzysztof Komeda was not only a valued professional collaborator but a close and dear friend, and it is my abiding regret that his untimely death robbed me of him in both those capacities.” Komeda developed a personal style that brought the jazz form a new prominence in a communist country that frowned on what was seen as an American creation. Komeda expanded the jazz parameters by injected a generous dose of ‘slavic lyricism’ and poetic atmosphere that eventually gained the young composer a following in his native country and abroad. One of Komeda’s most enthusiastic fans was none other than Polanski himself, who courted the fellow Pole to score his first film, Knife in the Water, after engaging the composer on his student film, after many months of attending him on the nightclub circuit. By that time the composer had received a few other offers (which he accepted) and he came through for Polanski with a low-key jazz score to serve as a counterpoint to the mounting tensions in Knife, employing saxophone and a string-bass driven sound. The mournful romanticism of the main theme is what most remember most compellingly from the score, but the music throughout is exceptionally applied. Polanski again called on Komeda for his 1963 Cul-de-Sac, allowing the composer to again write a nifty jazzy composition, with a dominant use of the moog, bongo and warbling horns. At around that time Komeda was also composing for the Danish director Henning Carlsen, contributing scores to Kattorna, People Meet and Sweet Music Fills the Heart and the director’s masterpiece, Salt (Hunger), for which a provocative chamber music design was written. Komeda’s most famous album to this day remains his landmark jazz work “Astigmatic” (1965) which is noted for it’s extraordinarily sublime coordination of piano harmonies and rhythms. Komeda also worked with Polish titan Andrzej Wajda, penning the score to Innocent Sorcerers, which exhibited the experimentation of form and dark tonalities typical of some of his earlier film music.
Almost as a tune up for what was ultimately to be the score he is most universally known for, Komeda answered the call again for Polanski in 1966 for The Fearless Vampire Killers, providing about thirty minutes of lush, unforgettable, baroque textured music that made indelible use of harpsichord, drums and classic guitar, in an intentionally over-dramatic composition that may well be the most unforgettable component in a film now seen as a cult classic. It also represented a change of pace for the composer, who created a lively score dominated by orchestral and choral elements. It is for this score and for the one that is featured in this essay that Komeda seems to have provided the most compelling evidence that his own convictions on long-term value of film music may well have been in error. Said Komeda in a mid 60′s interview “I judge film music only in conjunction with the picture it was created for. I believe that one cannot say that a movie score is good, without taking into account its usefulness in relation to the picture,” The irony of Komeda’s assertion is that his own scores almost without exception have either matched or acceded the films they provide aural accompaniment for, and are models of stand-alone listening.
One of Komeda’s final scores is the one that listeners are most familiar with, appearing as it does for one of director Polanski’s most popular features to this day, the 1968 horror film Rosemary’s Baby. It’s arguably his magnum opus, and the score that best represents a wedding of horror and jazz-influenced elements, that later influenced composers like Jerry Goldsmith and echoed in some ways the early avant-garde work of the artist who is widely considered “the greatest living Polish composer, Krzysztof Penderecki. Indeed in The Shining Stanley Kubrick effectively borrowed six pieces from Penderecki to provide a sinister, eerie and dissonant sound, which can also be found thoughout Komeda’s Rosemary’s Baby score. Opined Polanski upon the film’s release: “Rosemary’s Baby owes much to Komeda’s empathy and creative imagination” and “Not for the first time a film of mine had derived an added dimension from Komeda’s wonderfully imaginative music.”
At the center of the film’s score is a magnificent and haunting lullaby with seductive lyrical power that is wisely used throughout the film in various orchestrations and instrumental variations. To the surprise of Polanski and the producers, Mia Farrow herself provided the voice to carry the wordless infectious lullaby that is played over the opening credits, and it is reprised with a less eerie and more upbeat arrangement and quickened tempo (CD Track 17) for the scene when Rosemary’s increasing anxiety is dashed by the joyful news of her pregnancy. The strings and woodwinds take full control in this variation, trumping the effect of the dissonant elements. Later, the lullaby is heard again on Track 21 with a more pensive tone, at a sequence near the crib when Rosemary is reassured by her baby’s movement. During this sequence the musical accompaniment is widened with a more menacing connotation. The theme again appears briefly in Track 24, during Rosemary’s visit to Dr. Hill, as the piano carries the rocking melody as she dreams of a benign childbirth. The darkest and most devilish incorporation of the lullaby ushers in one of the score and CD’s most extraordinary tracks, No. 21, when the theme is carried by screeching synthesizer as Rosemary escapes, only to be captured and sedated. The theme associated by the witch’s coven follows in threatening manner with the trumpets and intensified strings. In the CD’s superlative liner notes, freelance writer John Takis mentions that the trumpet solos in the score were performed by jazz musician Don Ellis, who later became a notable film composer in his own right with credits that include The French Connection and The Seven-Ups. The arresting voice of Mia Farrow is finally heard in main title mode on Track 29 at the conclusion when Rosemary stands at the side of her young son. Enticingly enough, the most captivating incarnation of the lullaby waltz on the CD album is offered up as a bonus (Track 36) which is taken from the “B” side of the Dot Records single, and which features a beautifully poignant transcription of the theme on harmonica by Tommy Morgan. Decades after the success of the film, this unforgettable lullaby has rightly become one of the most famous and beloved film codas of all time.
While the main theme provides the melodic hook that encapsulates the score and brings it a human dimension, Komeda’s music throughout is jazz-infused, though the mounting tension is conveyed with minimalist flourishes that suggest the sinister motives of the film’s characters and the sense of foreboding that reaches it’s all-telling climax. The sections chaptered on the CD as “Path to Pit of Evil” parts 1 and 2 show the synthesizer and strings consorting threatening harmony as Rosemary discovers the secret doorway and later wields the kitchen knife while coming upon the satanic celebration of her child’s birth. During the earlier ‘hallucinatory rape’ segment (Track 16) when Rosemary experiences a demonic assault, the dissonance reaches it’s most urgent incantation while demonic male and female voices chant while Rosemary defends herself. The voices are heard again (Track 22) while the flute and moaning provide the aural underpinning when Rosemary finds out the dark secret about Roman after examining a book titled All of Them Witches, and initially (Track 3) when voices are heard in the neighboring apartment of the elderly couple who are most interested in Rosemary and Guy.
The La La Land Records CD can certainly be seen as definitive, as it includes the full thirty-one minute score Komeda wrote for the film (Tracks 13-29)the original soundtrack album (1-12), two bonus tracks and five tracks of “source” music. Among the latter grouping is one of the album’s most priceless additions, titled “Moment Musical” which is an expansion of the music that underscores two earlier relaxation interludes in the film, one when Rosemary attempts to peacefully read a book. In an encore “Moment Musical Jazz” on Track 34 the infectious melody is carried by piano instead of tenor saxophone. Also gleefully included is the complete rock tune that appeared in part on Track 20, titled ‘Moment in Time’ written by Komeda and Hal Blair, and arranged and conducted by Jimmie Haskell. The 36 track CD is attractively packaged with a remarkably comprehensive 24 page booklet that examines the film, Polanski’s early period, Komeda’s full career and a track-by-track analysis by the aforementioned John Takis. The album was co-produced by Film Score Monthly wunderkind Lucas Kendall, and is an essential acquisition for anyone who loves Komeda’s music, horror cinema or the stunning sound that can be negotiated on a CD from master tapes. Above all this is one of the great film scores, and it makes a passionate plea for a full re-assessment of one of the form’s tragic figures, a singular talent who spoke a unique musical language.

Composer Krzysztof Komeda
Note: The La La Land CD of Krzysztof Komeda’s score to Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby, which streeted three weeks ago, is a limited edition of 3,000 units. Much of Komeda’s other film work is available in a box set assembled by the composer’s widow, Zofia on Amazon, as is his seminal (and essential) jazz album, Astigmatic.






An exhaustive piece on a score which many love but which just leaves me cold, much like the film itself. But Komeda was a sad lass and his death around the same time from a similar cause as Françoise Dorleac affected Polanski greatly. His score for Fearless Vampire Killers was an absolute joy.
And the most monstrous loss was to come only four months later when his preganant wife Sharon Tate was brutally dispatched by the Manson gang, shocking the world. Just to ponders these events is sickening beyond words.
I stand behind Allan in his assessment that this is an exhaustive piece that leaves few stones unturned. However, unlike Allan, I happen to love the score by Komeda and feel that the Jazz elements help to unnerve the audience with its so-called “normalness” as everything that is presented on screen seems quite the opposite and balling completely out of control.
The “Lullaby” that you speak of is one of the most instantly recognized themes in movie history (well, at least for anyone that really knows film) and will almmost definately summon up images of the film in the minds of those that have seen it. Like “Tubular Bells” in THE EXORCIST, the thumping and chugging of the sharks theme in JAWS or Bernard Herrmann’s razor sharp string arrangements for Hitchcock’s PSYCHO (the grand-daddy of all Horror film music), this, seeemingly, simple and innocent coda can send goosebumps up the spine for anyone seeeing the film fr the first time or the 100th. The use of the Harpsichord in between Farrows “La-La-La’s” adds an almost antique quality to the theme and reminds us, as it appears again and again throughout the film, that it is hinting at an ancient evil that is present within the film and its plotting.
There is a moment in the film when I think the composer really reels it off the tracks and no more effective and off-putting a moment of aural discomfort comes than in the themes that accompany the montage of Rosemary’s enslavement to her bizarre pregnancy cravings. The quick cuts of the piano strings that seque in primal screams are a perfect partnering of the images of Rosemary eating the raw meat and then, supposedly days later, eating the raw innards of a chicken in front of the reflective toaster. It’s a quick musical flourish that can be taken for granted. However, as edited in by master director Polanski, it really builds to a climax that becomes jolting and stomach turning as we see Rosemary’s blood covered mouth and cheeks. It’s a moment of perfect coordination of music and imagery and one that helps make this film one of the all time greats in the genre of Horror films.
Mind you, though, while I think that the score is one of the most effective in the history of movies, no theme in the score is as faint worthy as the passage that reveals the baby to Rosemary. The building theme with it’s low register drums that blurt out, again, primal chants disfigured by the synthesizer is so off-putting and queasy it could cause a viewer to hold up their hand to their mouths in the same gesture to imitate the protagonist on screen. It’s a relevatory moment in the music as it makes visible in the mind of the audience what Polanski is all too unwilling to show us (and absolutely correct not to do so).
If anything bothers me about this review, and it’s a small bitch, it’s that I would have loved to see Sam include his impressions of the film after rewatching it the other night. I received a text message from the author last night saying “you were absolutely right about the film” and I took the message to infer that he agreed with me that ROSEMARY’S BABY has lost none of it’s potency since it’s release in 1968. Myself, I have always championed ROSEMARY’S BABY as being the very best film of the Horror genre. The films ability to unnerve the audience without getting graphic or splattering the screen with disturbing imagery is part of its allure. The score, as Sam has suggested in his fine essay, adds to the building of the paranoia in both the main character as well as the audience. It’s, easily, one of the creepiest movies of all time and no small part of it comes from the “seemingly simple” but effective work of Komeda.
Sam really should adandon his teaching career and try his pen at music reviews for THE NEW YORK TIMES…
I thoroughly enjoyed this piece and was thrilled by the subject.
BRAVO SCHMULEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dennis, as you can deduce from some of my responses to the others below I was more impressed with the film on this exceedingly attentive viewing than I ever was before. It is clearly now among Polanski’s greatest films for me. Komeda’s music is a critical component of course, as I’ve tried to establish in this post, but there is so much more in deft atmospherics Polanski applies, and the superlative performances. You are right that the game here is to unnerve with subtlety, and for that this film has always been a model. The escalation of paranoia is the film’s most compelling psychological element. I can say how glorious your comment is, and I appreciate the appreciation and compliments to the umteenth degree. I look forward to continuing this dialogue with you in person, but your comment here is truly Hall of Fame caliber.
Thanks many time over!
An incredible, brilliant review of a famous score that few movie fans would say they are unfamiliar with. The “lullaby” you speak of with authority and passion is one of those tunes that once heard is never forgotten. I applaud Dennis’ follow-up response, which is one of his greatest comments. You have me salivating to hear this again. I am curious, what was the freak accident that caused Komeda’s death? What a loss to Polanski and the musical community, not to mention his wife, family and friends.
How true Peter, few would ever say they aren’t familiar with it. As I said to Frank, the Lullaby is infectious and the hook to the score, though obviously there is so much more in this thirty minutes plus score that stands among movie music’s finest.
To answer your question, the freak accident that ultimately cost Komeda his life several months later was purportedly a fall while the composer was out arousing with friends. He hit his head, and a friend picked him up only to drop him again by accident, causing worse injury. Headaches were followed by blackouts, false assurances by doctors, and a plane back to Poland, where he died in a coma. Very very sad.
Thanks as always my friend.
Thanks Sam. I actually took a look myself, and also found that there were issues -holdups- with US healthcare, which may contributed to his demise. There seem to be conflicting reports about what actually happened, and one reported by the producer/director William Castle makes claim Komeda was involved in a skiing accident.
Peter, I think Castle’s report has been proven wrong, but you are right, there were conflicting reports, and some mystery still remains.
Sam, This is just something. You have once again given your most beloved art an injection of enthusiasm, and a tireless and description consideration of a popular score. I also love the score Komeda wrote for The Fearless Vampire Killers, and I would love to hear some of his earlier loss. That was quite a blow to Polanski when he lost Komeda. But even more so for the music world.
Beautiful writing. I am humming that lullaby right now after visiting you tube.
Frank—
Thanks as always for going the distance in my behalf. Certainly I had a lot of fun writing this and listened to the CD about a dozen times while making comparisons, watching the film in it’s entirety again and scouring through the liner notes and on-line appraisals. Oh God yes, that lullaby is infectious. I’ve done my own humming.
Great review. As I recall, music is what really propels this film. And as you mention it’s what inspired the later dissonant sounds in The Exorcist and The Omen. Komeda set the bar very high.
Terrific insights David. True what you say too about Komeda setting the bar high with this kind of music. And thanks too for the very kind words.
Wonderful piece Sam. The music in Rosemary’s Baby is certainly a big factor in the success of the film. Was always mixed about the actual picture (which I admittedly had not seen for quite some time) until Dennis and the WITD horror countdown made me revisit it again a few years back. After Repulsion and Chinatown it may now be my favorite among the director’s work. Komeda’s score is eerie and unforgettable.
Maurizio—
I deeply appreciate this terrific comment and recollection. Like you I have sad an late-stage epiphany on this horror film, and in good measure as a result of my wanting and needing to explore the score comprehensively for this review. As of now, i’d also say it’s one of my absolute favorite Polanskis. And as you say Komeda’s work here is vital.
I’ve mentioned it before, but “Rosemary’s Baby” is my favorite horror film. Glad to see you have come in with a positive re-assessment Sam. And even happier you have imparted your descriptive bravado and writing talent on the score, which is one of film music’s greatest to these ears.
Fred, I do indeed recall your spirited promotion of the film on past threads, and I am finally within hailing distance of your summary judgement. Thanks for the very kind words and appreciation for the fantastic Komeda score.
Really nice piece on a soundtrack I do like a great deal. It had to influence all those great giallo scores (which Sam will have this Friday…) as it was a massively influential film (one I need to revisit as Maurizio appears to have done) so all those guys must have seen it often (it’s so similar to one of my favorites, ‘The Red Queen Kills Seven Times’). Either way, another great Juliano piece.
Oh, and if you’ve ever wondered what this film’s theme would sound like if a bizarro avant garde heavy metal act did it (or you just want to piss your pants in fright) look no further. The great Mike Patton side project, Fantomas:
Love that last 30 seconds or so.
Oh and here is that RED QUEEN KILLS SEVEN TIMES theme that surely must have been riffing on the ROSEMARY’S BABY theme
I actually like this one a little bit better, but you always have to weigh the originator a little more.
Most interesting Jamie, I had never heard of this one!
Ha, this was an absolute gas Jamie, and I can see what you mean about those final 30 seconds or so! Thanks for the very kind words, the buffo addition/embellishment here, and the reflections on the film. I agree it deserves a re-viewing! Thanks for the giallo scores too, looking forward to them!