A Shell of a Good Hit: A ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Movie’ Retrospective, Part Three: A Darker Tone, Sincere Approach and a Meaningful Score
A Darker Tone and a Sincere Approach
The first Ninja Turtles film is often described as a dark film. And perhaps, yes, it was a tougher, edgier film to an audience of 7–9 year olds more accustomed to “Turtle Tips” and pizza puns than the original Mirage comic book. It can even be downright tragic. Splinter is battered and chained to a fence. Raphael is ambushed, dropped through a skylight, and spends a portion of film comatose. The film is even savage at times. In one scene, a foot soldier is electrocuted to death. In another, one is harshly beaten by his own sensei. We even see Hamato Yoshi and his lover, Tang Shen, murdered in cold blood.
Naturally, with it being a family film and all, the movie wisely dashes past most of its darker moments without looking back. But in a few select instance, it does linger and sometimes that’s more effective than the violence itself. Sure, yes, seeing the foot soldier, a teenager, beaten and kicked around is harsh. But seeing the distress in his friend’s eye as he kneels over his incapacitated body gives the power to the moment. Makes it even harsher. Had they cut this reaction from the film, the audience might not have given it a thought.
But while the film is more often applauded for its darkness, it could also be admired for its sincerity.
In fact, the film has quite the soft heart. It’s touching even. There is a poignancy to the film that reaches its peak during the somber third act. It’s a satisfyingly euphoric moment that sees the Turtles mediate by a campfire. Within the flames, Splinter’s apparition appears and the four brothers break down with tears of joy. Raph immediately grabs Leo’s hand while Donnie tends to Mikey, who can’t stop sobbing. And let me tell you, these blissful reactions rip right into the chest and grab the heart.
The campfire scene isn’t just thing of beauty, it shows us these aren’t just paper-thin cartoon characters. It isn’t just radio-control motors, latex and good lighting that sells the Turtles as living creatures. It’s the way they’re aloud to be human. As a result, we are invested in the their well-being, what happens to them matters, what they feel matters.
That isn’t to say the film doesn’t have TMNT’s signature sense of humor. In fact, the film quite goofy at times. The Turtles do say “Cowabunga.” Splinter does like to make funnies. And no, shell puns are not in short supply.
But it could be argued the way these characters approach humor when challenged by stress is yet another aspect that makes them more human. After all, humor is one of many ways to deal with grief. As the Turtles worry about Splinter in the middle acts, jokes may serve as a defense mechanism. Granted, some turn to humor more than others. Donnie and Mikey are both natural jokesters and thus more prone to one-liners. Leo is more serious but allows some room for playfulness. Raphael is uptight throughout, but loosens up after he discovers Splinter is still alive. Now it could be argued the Turtles are just acting out their predefined character traits, and that would be a valid argument. But the approach itself feels more natural in this case — and the moments when characters like Mikey don’t make jokes are pretty telling.
Something that would’ve illustrated this further was a minor, but enlightening subplot removed from the farmhouse sequence. In this deleted bit, recent events hit Mikey pretty hard. He withdraws from the others and isolates himself in the barn where he trains nonstop.
Remnants of this thread remains in the film: Mikey attacks a punching bag, Donnie “latches on” to Casey to fill the void left by his now reclusive best friend, and keen eyes will spot Mikey’s distinct shape as he shouts “Splinter!” on top of the barn (even though you hear Raph’s voice — this was changed after it was decided to jettison Mikey’s subplot). You may also notice Mikey only makes one joke during this portion in the movie, a gag involving Turtle Wax. However, the joke is muted and Mikey delivers it without his trademark excitement.
As a result, knowing this adds a richness to our lovable “party dude” and makes small moments such as him shedding those happy tears, all the more powerful.
A Meaningful Score
A great film score can deepen our experience with a film. It adds pathos, soul, joy and laughter. By giving us insight into what the characters are thinking and feeling, it strengthens not only our understanding of the story, but also our bond with the characters. TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES is no exception
Composed by John Du Prez (UHF, A Fish Called Wanda), it is as perfect of a score you could get with Ninja Turtles. It has heart, edge, and a personality that hasn’t been matched since. Its success lies in the composer’s mindfulness in approaching both the story’s needs and its characters’ unique individual personalities. Mixing guitar riffs, percussive drums and synthesizers, the score is as softhearted as Leonardo, as hard-boiled as Raphael, and as playful as Michelangelo and Donatello.
Du Prez successfully weaves together these various tones with an elegance that is better that you would expect from a Ninja Turtles adaption. As a result, the score perfectly embodies what it’s like viewing the film as a whole: it is sometimes dark, sometimes fun, and sometimes sincere — but always entertaining.
Like the story, the bulk of the score is surprisingly gloomy and foreboding. Du Prez matches the darker nature of the film with equally foreboding themes, including: menacing cues warning us of the imminent danger The Shredder and his Foot Clan serve, an intense action beat signaling imminent peril, and a subdued three-note motif representing the grief that follows.
Naturally, Du Prez demonstrates a good sense of when to approach the material with such earnestness and respect — and when to cut loose and just have a good time.
Adding this much needed levity is the Ninja Turtles theme. With its catchy melody, jubilant drumbeats and gnarly riffs, their theme is energetic, fun and easy to hum. Its cowabunga-worthy energy is matched by a handful of playful themes, including a pair of sprightly and high-spirited battle cues, a Dick Dale-inspired surfer track, and a brief use of Tommy Walker’s “Charge!” fanfare — best known for its use at baseball games.
But it’s Du Prez’s empathy towards the Turtles that adds to the film’s richness. This is best evident in the way the composer approaches their relationship with Splinter. The spiritual cue during his tender heart-to-heart with Raph. The blissful strings when his spirit appears before his sons in the meaningful campfire scene. And the rising swells signaling the heartfelt reunion in the end. These sincere themes stir the soul and their genuine quality adds legitimacy to an otherwise unbelievable story.
That Du Prez treats the Turtles as human being helps us treat the Turtles as human beings. Their plight is our plight. Their victories are our victories. Like all other aspects of the production, had the composer been above the material, had he veered too far into cynicism and camp, the film might not have been as good as it was. But thankfully, Du Prez embraced the humanity — even though it is a story about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
Closing
The reason this film works as well as it does is a testament to everyone in the creative team: Barron. Fenner. Henson. Du Prez. Screenwriters Bobby Herbeck and Todd W. Langen. The various actors, puppeteers and stunt performers. Had they treated it as a farce, the film would’ve been a farce. Had they not put their soul into it, the characters then would have no soul. And the film might not be as beloved as it is now.
Although it opened to condescending reviews — Roger Ebert called the production design “a low-rent vision of Batman” and Leonard Maltin said it was “badly written, flatly-directed, and murky-looking” — the film was a box office success. With a reported budget over $13 million, it made almost double that in its opening weekend alone. During its theatrical run, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles quickly became the highest grossing independent movie of all time — a monicker it held until it was finally dethroned by The Blair Witch Project in 1999.
There has never been another Ninja Turtles film like it. Subsequent entries took after the popular Fred Wolf series, softening the tone and cranking up the humor. Since then, technology has advanced. In recent years, the characters have been given a CG makeover. The Turtles can kick higher, punch harder, and Splinter can do a lot more than light a candle, that’s for sure.
But still, those “new, improved” Turtles lacked something important: a soul, and Steve Barron’s Turtles had it in spades.
Sure, the shells bend, their mouths do weird things, and sometimes you catch a glimpse of the actor inside. But they felt alive. These Turtles think, feel, and react like real people do. And for those 93 minutes, as brief of a time as it is, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are as real as you and I.
Cowabunga, dudes!
