I’ll share a secret with you. Since I was 16, I have aspired to be a musician, specifically an acoustic guitarist and a pianist. Indeed, I fell in love with the acoustic guitar the moment I saw a shiny picture of it in a Sears Roebuck catalog when I was 9-years-old. But something about the way my structured brain works doesn’t lend itself to being the gifted, creative musician I aspired to be. So, in addition to admiring my sons who have serious musical chops, I greatly admire the people I learned about as I burrowed down a rabbit hole into the world of film composing.

Since film composers are not front and center like actors and movie directors, we have to be intentional about learning anything at all about them. So, I rummaged through historical information on the Web, scrolled through IMDB listings, read the blogs of music historians, and watched music documentaries. No worries, it’s all digital so I didn’t sneeze once. I actually found it to be an enjoyable and immersive learning experience, and I could continue down that rabbit hole but I have a deadline! Suffice it to say that the way composers’ minds work and the sounds they create just moved something in me. In film, their music manifests as an ever-present, invisible character seamlessly weaved into the production. But consider for a moment that this wasn’t always the case.

The Past

I have no intention of approaching the history of film composition chronologically, but it is worth mentioning that this art form was not always an integral element of films. As a matter of fact, the first motion-pictures didn’t even have sound. 

First, you should know that there’s some debate around who invented the first motion-picture camera, and even who recorded the first movie. Nonetheless, the date on the patent and the evidence of a moving image indisputably prove that Frenchman, Louis LePrince was the first to do both in the late 19th century. In subsequent decades, Wurlitzer organs were placed in theaters (yes, this predates TV folks!), and a musician would play something consistent with the goings-on in the film. A train moving fast, the organist played fast. A couple walking slow, the organist played slow. Something scary, the organist’s fingers alternated quickly across a few keys.

Needless to say, this approach augmented the entertainment value of going to the movies or at least kept the audience from getting bored. If they didn’t come to the theater for the film, at least they would come for the music. Indeed, the addition of the music opened up huge possibilities for what could be done with film, if music were truly integrated into the events in the movie — following its ebbs and flows, emotional ups and downs, moments of intensity, fear, sadness, adrenaline rushes, etcetera. 

Max Steiner’s symphonic composition for the 1933 release of King Kong, you know, the one with Fay Wray sitting in Kong’s hand, is considered groundbreaking in this regard. Steiner’s music was not only a part of the production, but it filled in the film’s spaces that were once left vacuous, spaces that voided the film of the crucial element of emotion.

Less than a generation later, composer Alex North introduced orchestral jazz into the 1951 release, Streetcar Named Desire. The movie’s composition signaled a departure from traditional European symphonic music to the diverse styles and genres that characterized the United States. As if on cue, later in the decade, Miles Davis was tapped by French filmmaker, Louis Malle, to compose the jazz score for his film noir, Elevator to the Gallows, which Olajide Paris of Film Independent says  “[made] him one of the earliest African-American film composers, paving the way for later artists like Quincy Jones, Herbie Hancock and Terence Blanchard to follow in his footsteps.”

Since the 1960s and the advent of synthesizers, electric piano, and the growing popularity of folk and pop music, film scoring has been derived from a number of sources. In addition to symphonic and jazz, shrieking synthesizers, acoustic guitars, and original and licensed music made their entrée into the cinematic space. Think of Simon & Garfunkel’s folk song “Mrs. Robinson,” the only original tune from the 1969 movie The Graduate. Think of the full soundtracks for the hit films, Saturday Night Fever (1977) and Beverly Hills Cop (1984). And let’s not forget the acoustic guitar. Ennio Morricone wasn’t shy about inserting this incredible sound (yes, I’m biased!) into the 1984 film, Once Upon a Time in America. The list goes on. 

Don’t worry, there were (and still are) plenty of films with traditional symphonic compositions, such as Mad Max, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, and Raiders of the Lost Ark. And yes, the list continues even today. It is worth noting that the use of film soundtracks similar to the aforementioned Saturday Night Fever and Beverly Hills Cop eventually faded due to licensing costs. What is it, though, about music that makes such a big difference in the cinematic experience? I mean, is there science behind the way it makes us feel?

The science behind the music

In the documentary Score, Kalamazoo College professor, Dr Siu Lan Tan, sheds light on our sensory connection to music by linking elements of it to processes in our brain. She explains that there are visible signs of the body’s “physiological response” when music is heard.

There’s a system in the brain, ventral striatum; it’s our reward center. Things like chocolate or sex, these are reactions that we can see involve these structures. So, it’s interesting because the same kinds of pleasurable feeling we get from chocolate, dopamine release, we could see some of the same kinds of activations in the brain to music. (Score, 2016)

When Dr. Tan suggests researchers can “see” our reactions when we like something or experience pleasure, she really means they can observe this occurring in our brain with the use of medical imaging devices. So, our reactions to hearing music are more than just emotive or psychological, but initially they are physical. The act of hearing the music emanating from a poignant scene, for example, triggers the physiological response and subsequently shifts our emotional state to sadness, joy, anger, etcetera. I like to think of its effect as a chain reaction or a set of carefully constructed dominoes, where the catalyst is – you got it – the music itself. It is so amazing that this intangible thing, music, has the power to affect us so profoundly. So, how do they do it as a group? How do filmmakers and composers collaborate on a film project?

How do filmmakers and composers collaborate on a film project?

When famed Guns & Roses guitarist, Slash, received word from his agent that Michael Jackson requested him to play on some of his songs, Slash agreed. This sounds reasonable, right? Even if one could argue that Michael Jackson’s and Slash’s music specialties are slightly different, they’re pretty close and the project is still a music-to-music collaboration, making it seamless for both parties. But what if Steven Spielberg approached Slash about a composition for say, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, or if Michael Jackson had approached John Williams about doing the guitar solo for “Give in to Me?” Now, things get interesting.

James Cameron remarked that film directors know little about how to use music to invoke emotion, leading them to rely on the composers to do this. So, while the aforementioned scenarios are far-fetched, it is reasonable to want to understand how movie directors and music composers work together. Mychael Danna, who composed Moneyball, Life of Pi, Storks, and Where the Crawdad Sings, notes that film composers view themselves as part of the storytelling team, even though they are not brought into the project until the movie itself is completed.

Generally, film directors choose the composers they want to score their films. Once the film is shot, edited, and finished, the director meets with the composer in what is formally referred to as a spotting session. During this meeting, the director verbally steps through the film, explaining his audio-vision, if you will, for various scenes. The composer mainly listens but occasionally chimes in and provides a sample of sound from an instrument to confirm his understanding of the director’s vision.

It is clear that in addition to being musically talented, film composers must have patience and good interpersonal skills as they work with filmmakers in their struggle to communicate what they want using a language they don’t necessarily speak — music. It is reasonable to surmise that composers must also be quite disciplined in finishing the score by the deadline, as missing it can cost the studio tens of millions of dollars in wasted marketing, lost opportunities for award nominations, and ultimately raise the ire of the filmmaker and the studio’s executives alike. So, film composing, while fun, glamorous, and perhaps a life-long dream of some, is at its most basic level rooted in the business of film production and distribution. As such, money, careers, and reputations are at stake. 

Despite having deep experience and being trusted with scoring multimillion-dollar movie projects, some composers experience imposter syndrome. Hans Zimmer, who has scored such films as Gladiator, Inception, and The Crown, expounds on this notion, saying that while you’re excited and flattered that they want you to do this, you suddenly feel you have no idea how to do this. Hans’s reaction to a new project, though, is not unlike that of many people who, despite their proven talent and past accomplishments, have sudden moments of panic and strong sense of dubiousness about their abilities.

Researchers estimate that 70% of us will experience this at some point in our lives. I would argue that we will experience it at multiple points, especially those of us who are perfectionists or see ourselves as experts. Psychologists have suggestions for getting past imposter syndrome. Me? I just drink a glass or two of Cabernet, get a good night’s sleep, and I’m good - usually! To be fair, though, we’re not all the same. 

But now that you know film composers are human like everyone else and that film is at its core a business, how can you, a gifted musician and composer who is patient and possesses strong interpersonal skills and good self-discipline, make your foray into film composing?

How to navigate your path to professional film composing?

There is plenty of information available on how to do film composition and on refining your skills in this area, but little by way of marketing your talent or where best to find opportunities. In such cases, firsthand knowledge is best, so I present two recommendations, one from a film composer getting started in his career and another who is quite experienced. I present them to you in order.

First, read COTC’s interview with film composer, Greg Sgammato. Greg has composed more than 10 short films and a TV episode in his short career. In this wide-ranging conversation, he talks about the importance of finding your niche with respect to film genre as well as developing strategies for finding work and collaborative opportunities. In explaining how he got his start in scoring films, Greg recalls that he was playing piano and drum accompaniment for dancers when a friend approached him and asked him to score a short film for him. Surprised, he said, “Yeah, of course. I'll do that.” From that experience, he got referrals and from there scored more short films.

Greg’s first scoring opportunity occurred by happenstance, but it took only one for him to show his chops and get his foot in the door. Since that time a few years ago, he has scored ten short films, a TV episode, and has other projects in the works. Another point to note here is that Greg started with an accessible film segment. So, the lessons learned from Greg are to start small by composing for low budget features, TV shows, or short films, while keeping two things in mind.

1. Stay loyal to your passions. Build your reputation by scoring films in a movie genre that fits the music you want to write. If you relish comedies, compose scores for comedy shorts. Prefer animated films? Look to write music for animated shorts.

2. Collaborate by reaching out to composers who have scored films featured on short film sites like Film Shortage or Make-Believe Machines’s Shrieking Tree. Getting to know others in the film composing community can be a huge source of support whether things are going well or not. Being on that bumpy journey with others not only makes for a less lonely road but it increases the likelihood of stumbling onto ideas that move you closer to your goals. Those in the music composition community for short films are much more accessible than those in communities where members typically score major theatrical releases with big-name directors attached to them. 

   
   

A second useful source for navigating a career in film composing is the very experienced British film composer, Pete Thomas. Pete has scored the music for TV and film productions in the UK like Best (the Movie), Another Side of London, and Barred Love, along with commercial compositions for Playstation, Dewars Whiskey, and Vidal Sassoon, and even the Cannes Film Festival broadcast for the BBC. 

Expressing deep empathy with aspiring film composers, Pete talks about the vicious and frustrating catch-22 of needing experience to get work scoring films. To address this, he emphasizes the importance of showcasing work on your website by taking, for example, a silent image and putting music to it. He encourages exploring options for access to the industry by getting bartending jobs or barista gigs near a film or TV studio to increase the chances of those serendipitous moments of meeting directors or big-time film composers. 

To enhance exposure, Pete suggests performing with a band because you never know who is in the audience. In his forum, he tells of a band performer who is approached by someone who turns out to be the client of an advertising agency. She wants to recommend the performer to do her company’s spot for their commercial, and the performer’s career takes off from there. The point is you never know where your next break will come from, nor where that break can take you next.

Summary

A blank page is a scary thing for a writer. As we saw with Hans Zimmer, it’s a scary thing for a composer as well when they have been charged, or should I say, gifted, with the opportunity to score a film for say, Steven Spielberg, Garry Marshall, George Lucas, or some other highly accomplished director with huge expectations. And they approached you because you are known to be one of the best, if not THE best, composer in the film industry. Sorry, I didn’t mean to add any pressure here — because there’s already plenty of that! Despite the expectations being so high on film composers and their influence on our emotions so great, we rarely hear anything about them or even know their names, save for a handful.

We are profoundly influenced by film composers’ melodies and motifs that ultimately become our friends as we hum them for months if not years on end. They physiologically trigger memories of movies, characters, and story progressions, and we suddenly decide we want to watch that film tonight. Yet we don’t have a clue about the composer who planted that tune in our head, and we wouldn’t know them if we stair-stepped next to them at the health club every Tuesday and Thursday. Lucky them?! Perhaps they prefer it that way.

When my son was about 9 years old, it was clear that he felt drawn to writing. When he told me and my husband that he wanted to be a screenwriter, he added that he could still maintain his privacy while doing the work he loves. People readily recognize actors and most filmmakers, but they don’t generally recognize screenwriters. My son said that he could do his work and still go into a restaurant and enjoy a meal without being gawked at or being asked to take a picture. I was taken aback that a kid that young would visualize his adult life with such forethought. The point I am making is that this relatively private life is indeed the life of film composers. Yet they find incredible ways to make music that seamlessly moves around inside of us for years on end, sometimes changing our lives in profound ways. Thank you, whoever and wherever you are.

References

Casey, Kieron. (2013). The mystery of Louis Le Prince, the father of cinematography. Science+Media Museum. (2013 August 29). https://blog.scienceandmediamuseum.org.uk/louis-le-prince-created-the-first-ever-moving-pictures/#:~:text=While%20Thomas%20Edison%20and%20the,his%20home%20in%20Roundhay%2C%20Leeds.

Chaisson, Chris. (2023). A Conversation with Film Composer Greg Sgammato. Cup of Tea Critiques. (2025 June 2). https://www.cupofteacritiques.com/team/greg-sgammato.

Davis, Miles. Elevator to the Gallows. https://www.milesdavis.com/film/elevator-to-the-gallows/.

Fracacio, Rafael. 1888- Roundhay Garden Scene [Film] https://youtu.be/F1i40rnpOsA.

Murray, Conor. (2023). What To Know About Imposter Syndrome (2023 May 8). https://www.forbes.com/sites/conormurray/2023/05/08/what-to-know-about-imposter-syndrome-the-psychological-phenomenon-making-people-doubt-their-success/.

Paris, Olajide. (2024). The FI Hall of Fame: A Brief History of Film Music. Film Independent. (2024 July 5). https://www.filmindependent.org/blog/know-score-brief-history-film-music/.

Sakulku, Jaruwan & Alexander, James. (2011). The Impostor Phenomenon. International Journal of Behavioral Science 6(1), 75-97. https://so06.tci-thaijo.org/index.php/IJBS/article/view/521/pdf.

Schrader, Matt (Director). (2016).  Score [Film]. Prime Video. https://www.score-movie.com/.

Thomas, Pete. (2024). How to become a media/film/TV composer. Café Saxophone. (2024 November 28).https://cafesaxophone.com/threads/how-to-become-a-media-film-tv-composer.36275/.

Thomas, Pete. Taming the Saxophone. https://tamingthesaxophone.com/about/credits.

Winter, David. (2024). The Symphony Behind the Screen: Understanding the Impact of Soundtracks in Film. Lightworks. (2024 February 7). https://lwks.com/blog/the-symphony-behind-the-screen-understanding-the-impact-of-soundtracks-in-film.