Reptile
/We’re on the cusp of the fall film and television season, and among the most anticipated entries on Netflix’s slate is Benicio Del Toro and Alicia Silverstone’s reunion—with Justin Timberlake thrown in—in Grant Singer’s directorial debut, Reptile.
At the outset, we hear the ever-popular ticking motif—this time with variations on the octave (the same note, up or down a register). The inclusion of guttural strings and unnerving sound effects underscores the visceral sensibility of the tight shot at 0:16 (“it’s a real nightmare”), reaching a minor climax at 0:24 as Del Toro’s character enters the room.
Things take a turn as we suddenly hear Evie Sands’ “Angel of the Morning” (1967)—probably not a song that most would recognize, but likely chosen for its minor lyrical parallels. (It’s worth noting, however, that some might recognize it in the context of Shaggy’s sample of the tune from the 2000 track “Angel”.) “There’ll be no strings to bind your hands,” Evie sings—as we see bite marks on the forensic photo of a victim’s hand. Notice the sudden drop in aural fidelity—echoing—of the song at 1:07, just as Del Toro’s character asks, “Strange in what way?”—a swift foreshadowing of the outsized sound we hear of a foot jamming the door at 1:10, with cavernous reverb that complements the retreat of the music.
By 1:18 we’re back to on-beat trailer music fare, with single, reverberant tones doling out an insistent and suspenseful beat. In another clever editing decision that plays on trailer music standards, we hear at 1:23 punches at the door synchronized as triplets to the beat—often, modern trailer music arrangements will employ the triplet to conjure attention and intrigue, and pairing this move with the on-screen action certainly compounds its effectiveness. With the actors’ title cards at 1:38, we get the song’s chorus—and as mentioned, its most likely part to be recognized, largely by millennials and older—along with some appropriately disturbing counterpoint in the visuals. For example, shortly after Sands sings “you’re my angel,” we see the image of a painting of an angel, gagged and tied up.
After another fade out of the song, the editors opt to repeat the “baby” segment of the chorus at 1:55—an effective technique for pulling us out of expectations and heightening the drama at the climax of the trailer’s action montage. At 2:07 the solo voice in the song’s arrangement is matched with a return to the close-up of Del Toro. The calm acoustic guitar produces another audiovisual counterpoint with the violent typography of the main title card—scarlet red, slightly askew, and imbued with gory halation in its lighting treatment.
Overall, Reptile’s trailer music edit is one that both avails itself of effective trailer music trends and established techniques (ticking, triplets, audiovisual counterpoint), while also providing more subtle sleights of hand (or ear) that work on a more subconscious level. Examples include the faded fidelity of the music followed by the unrealistically reverberant door at 1:07, or the rare repeat of the musical segment—like a broken record—at 1:55. These act as if to remind the audioviewer not to get too cozy with their expectations.
Reptile premieres on Netflix October 6th.
— Curtis Perry