10 Great Songs From 10 Not-So-Great Films

The theater darkens, the credits begin, a stirring theme song plays. You settle back in your seat and think "Gee, this might actually be quite good after all . . ."
Two hours later you leave the cinema, pissed off and wanting your money back. This week's List is dedicated to those films that rely on that most underestimated marketing tool: The theme song.

The List sends a big shout out to Mr T of Golders Green, whose assistance was invaluable in figuring out how to embed the Youtube videos seen below into the post.

Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me - U2
From the film Batman Forever (1995)
The song:
Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me was an unfinished track from U2's 1993 concept album Zooropa. The lyrics deal with commercialism and empty celebrity, making the song a good thematic bridge between Zooropa and the band's next album, Pop. So then, nothing at all to do with a millionaire playboy who dresses up as a giant bat to fight criminals?
But the film:
In 1995, Warner Bros. studio executives were concerned that the commercial failure of 1993's Batman Returns threatened the survival of their lucrative Batfranchise. Their solution? Throw Batshitloads of money at the Batproblem and hope it would Batsolve itself. The resulting Joel Schumacher-directed Batman Forever was camp, garish, nonsensical trash. How trashy? They put nipples on the batsuit, ferchrissakes!


Shaft - Isaac Hayes
From the film Shaft (1971)
The song:
Isaac Hayes's Shaft is one of the greatest movie theme songs of all time, winning the Oscar for best song in 1971. Its funky guitars and Hayes's smooth-as-silk vocal delivery virtually transform the geekiest listener into the ultra-cool, slick "black private dick who's a sex machine to all the chicks . . . "
But the film:
The "blaxploitation" genre of the 1970s offered a chance for black film makers to make their mark on the industry. Ironically, however, the resulting films often featured characters that merely fulfilled odious racial stereotypes, much to the chagrin of civil rights activists. John Shaft, with his distrust of the 'honky government', juvenile sense of humour, and seemingly unquenchable sexual appetite, is a prime example of this paradox.

And speaking of blaxploitation . . .

Live and Let Die - Paul McCartney & Wings
From the film Live and Let Die (1973)
The song:
Paul McCartney submitted a demo of this song to the producers of the James Bond films on spec. In return for the use of his song, McCartney, a huge Bond fan, wanted a cameo in the film. A compromise was reached whereby singer BJ Arnau gave the song a feminine rendition mid-film. The song was nominated for an Oscar and has become the signature song for McCartney's post-Beatles career.
But the film:
Live and Let Die was Roger Moore's debut as James Bond. The Bond films have always closely followed cinema trends, and Live and Let Die was no different, capitalising on the popularity of the 70s blaxploitation genre. The result is a mess that panders to all the cliches of that genre: drug trafficking, obnoxious white authority figures, afros, pimpmobiles, and even voodoo.

From the first Roger Moore Bond flick to the last . . .

A View to a Kill - Duran Duran
From the film A View to a Kill (1985)
The song:
All synth-pop and nonsensical lyrics, A View to a Kill stands as one of the raddest songs of the 80s. It holds the distinction of being the only James Bond theme song to reach number 1 on the American Billboard Hot 100 countdown.
But the film:
Roger Moore's final outing as 007 was clearly one too many. Moore was 57 years old when the film was made, and one can almost hear his zimmer frame groaning under the strain of each poorly-edited action sequence. Neither does it help that the plot was lifted wholesale from the earlier, far superior, Goldfinger.

And speaking of ageing action stars . . .

Welcome to the Jungle - Guns 'n' Roses
From the film The Dead Pool (1987)
The song:
Welcome to the Jungle was inspired by an encounter a young Axl Rose had with a homeless man in the Bronx, who, in a clearly redundant attempt to intimidate the skinny little runt, yelled "You know where you are? You're in the jungle baby, you're gonna die!" The song was released as part of Appetite for Destruction, became an instant hard rock classic, and was adopted by Hollywood legend Clint Eastwood for his next film . . .
But the film:
The Dead Pool is a textbook illustration of Hollywood's law of diminishing returns. The fourth sequel to Dirty Harry saw a 58-year-old Clint Eastwood return to the role of Detective Harry Callahan. The director, Buddy Van Horn, was Clint's long-serving stunt double, and it shows. The plot involves a series of celebrity murders and Harry Callahan, a creation of the 70s, fits the glitzy world of 80s showbusiness as poorly as a cheap polyester suit.


Sweet Talkin' Candyman - The Carrie Nations (aka Stu Phillips & Lynn Carey)
From the film Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970)
The song:
Sweet Talkin' Candyman is a pleasing, upbeat light-psychedelic rock number and easily the best thing about Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.
But the film:
Nowadays considered a camp classic, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls is the best-known of trash merchant Russ Meyer's films. Dolls isn't one of Meyer's usual tits-and-violence fixated creations. That's not to say Dolls doesn't have it's fair amount of offensive trash. Indeed, the film culminates in the shock revelation (during a Nazi-themed fancy dress party) that evil record producer Z-Man, whom everyone had presumed to be merely an overtly camp gay man, is in fact "a chick! A really ugly chick!" I shit you not.
Roger Ebert, the film critic who somehow garnered a co-writing credit on Dolls, calls it "a movie that got made by accident when the lunatics took over the asylum."


(Can't You) Trip Like I Do - Filter and The Crystal Method
From the film Spawn (1997)
The song:
Spawn: The Album is notable for being one of the first soundtrack albums to recieve as much marketing as its parent film. A gimmick of the album was that each track was a collaboration between a popular rock band and a DJ or producer, the best of which was this offering. Filter fit lyrics and guitar riffs to the Crystal Method's Trip Like I Do, and the result is gratifyingly harsh.
But the film:
The film . . . Oh God, the film. What's the worst thing about it? Take your pick from the incomprehensible screenplay, John Leguizamo's obnoxious performance as the film's villain, Martin Sheen's 'I'm-only-here-for-the-catering' turn as a corrupt government official, and the CGI Satan that can't close its mouth.


It's Probably Me - Sting and Eric Clapton
From the film Lethal Weapon 3 (1992)
The song:
Eric Clapton had produced guitar-heavy blues scores for the first two Lethal Weapon movies. Offered the chance to perform a theme song for the third film, Clapton collaborated with Sting to produce this bluesy, melancholic rumination on friendship and regret.
But the film:
The rot of formulaism had well and truly set into the Lethal Weapon franchise by this stage, exemplified by the pointless elevation of Joe Pesci's character Leo Getz from minor comic relief to a more substantial supporting role. It was only downhill from here; the less said about the awful Lethal Weapon 4, the better.


The Look of Love - Dusty Springfield
From the film Casino Royale (1967)
The song:
Written by Burt Bacharach, Dusty Springfield made this song a hit in 1967 with her slow, sultry rendition. The song was nominated for an Oscar, and the fact that Springfield was a closeted lesbian lends the lyrics extra poignance. The Youtube video below sets the song to scenes from the TV series The L-Word.
But the film:
The 1967 James Bond spoof Casino Royale is a legendarily bad film. Originally intended to be a serious adaptaition of the original Ian Fleming novel, producer Charles K Fledman was unable to sway Sean Connery away from the official Bond movies. Believing he could not compete with the clout of the Connery films, Feldman instead decided to lampoon the Bond series. The resulting film was marred by on-set ego clashes and constant script rewrites. Stars Peter Sellers and Orson Welles refused to shoot their scenes at the same time - problematic given that a card game between their characters was central to the plot! No fewer than 6 directors and 10 writers (including Sellers, Woody Allen, Terry Southern and Billy Wilder) worked on the film, to no avail.


Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Tears For Fears
From the film Real Genius (1985)
The song:
One of the iconic songs of the 80s, Everybody Wants to Rule the World was Tears For Fears first No. 1 hit in America. The lyrics deal with media manipulation of the facts and the inevitable cynicism that results.
But the film:
An obnoxious, contradictory attempt to combine the teen frat-house comedy genre with a form of socially conscious commentary, Real Genius fails on both fronts. The story concerns a 15-year old prodigy who, recently enrolled at a thinly-disguised Caltech, tries to juggle his studies with his social life. He is aided by the resident "cool" geek Val Kilmer, and hindered by the CIA's attempt to exploit the school's students research and build an orbital laser weapon. Yes, it is as stupid as it sounds. How do the genius brats solve the situation? Why, by using said laser weapon to pop a huge container of popcorn kernels secreted in the killjoy dean's house, of course. Gee, that'll sure teach the CIA to stop messing about in the third world.


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