V for Vendetta
"Remember, remember, the fifth of November..."
Few films are as closely associated with this date as V for Vendetta, making November 5th a particularly fitting occasion for this new presentation of Dario Marianelli's score. Directed by James McTeigue and released in 2006, the film stars Natalie Portman as Evey Hammond, Hugo Weaving as the mysterious masked revolutionary V, Stephen Rea as Inspector Finch, and John Hurt as Adam Sutler, the ruthless leader of Britain's ruling regime. The screenplay, written by Lilly and Lana Wachowski, adapts the acclaimed graphic novel by Alan Moore and David Lloyd.
Set in a dystopian future where Britain has fallen under the control of the fascist Norsefire Party, the story follows V, a mysterious freedom fighter who wages a campaign of sabotage and assassination against the oppressive government. After rescuing Evey from the secret police, he gradually draws her into his revolutionary cause, while Inspector Finch investigates the origins of V's actions and uncovers the disturbing truth behind the regime. Blending political thriller, action and dystopian science fiction, V for Vendetta explores themes of authoritarianism, individual freedom, resistance and the power of ideas to inspire collective change.
The film proved a commercial success, grossing approximately $134.7 million worldwide against a reported production budget of $54 million. It also received generally favorable reviews, with critics praising its visual style, thought-provoking political themes and impressive action sequences, although its political commentary proved somewhat divisive. Some critics questioned the film's simplification of complex political issues and its portrayal of violent revolution as a means of opposing authoritarianism, while others found its anti-establishment message particularly relevant and compelling. Over time, it has established itself as a particularly recognizable entry in the dystopian science-fiction genre, with its Guy Fawkes imagery becoming an enduring symbol of protest and resistance.
Dario Marianelli's score provides an essential part of the film's atmosphere and narrative identity, combining orchestral writing, electronic textures and recurring thematic material to reflect both the oppressive nature of Norsefire's regime and the revolutionary ideals at the heart of V's mission.
At the time of V for Vendetta, Italian composer Dario Marianelli was beginning to establish himself on the international film-scoring scene. Having already attracted considerable attention with Terry Gilliam's The Brothers Grimm (2005) and, more notably, Joe Wright's Pride & Prejudice (2005), for which he received an Academy Award nomination, Marianelli was still relatively new to the demands of large-scale Hollywood productions. His work on V for Vendetta, however, would reveal another side of his compositional abilities, moving away from the delicate, intimate writing of his Austen adaptation towards a much darker, more forceful and ambitious orchestral sound.
One of the most striking aspects of the score is just how much music Marianelli manages to sustain throughout the film. V for Vendetta is particularly dialogue-heavy, yet its soundtrack is almost wall-to-wall, with very few stretches of the picture left without musical accompaniment. Marianelli has acknowledged that this was more extensive than his usual approach, explaining that he generally tends to be more restrained with the amount of music he writes, but that the filmmakers wanted virtually the entire picture to be scored. This presented an interesting challenge, as much of the music has to function as underscoring for conversations and quieter dramatic passages. Nevertheless, Marianelli handles the task remarkably well. His writing is constantly active, with multiple musical layers, intricate rhythmic patterns and a wealth of orchestral detail, yet it never descends into a dull musical moments nor a chaotic or dissonant mess. Even during passages that might otherwise risk becoming inconspicuous background music, the appealing orchestrations, carefully balanced textures and natural ebb and flow of the composition keep things engaging. The music breathes, constantly shifting between instruments, dynamics and textures, and rarely feels intrusive despite its near-continuous presence.
The overall musical architecture is one of gradual buildup. Dark, brooding and relentlessly tense, the score spends much of its running time establishing an atmosphere of unease, employing low orchestral registers, ominous brass, restless percussion and electronic textures to reflect the oppressive world in which the story unfolds. There is a persistent sense that something is gathering momentum beneath the surface, with relatively few opportunities for genuine emotional respite. This makes the moments when Marianelli finally allows his music to open up all the more rewarding. And when they arrive, they certainly make an impression. The more lyrical and emotionally expansive passages provide some of the score's most memorable moments, while the increasingly forceful orchestral writing towards the climax transforms the music into something almost revolutionary in its own right. It is as though the score itself gradually breaks free from the constraints imposed upon it, mirroring the growing momentum of V's movement and the eventual awakening of the people of London.
Rather than relying on conventional character-specific leitmotifs, Marianelli conceived the score around a handful of interconnected musical ideas. In an interview at the time of the film's release, the composer explained that he tends to avoid straightforward theme-character relationships, preferring instead to create musical elements that can exist independently, overlap and acquire different meanings as the story progresses. He described the V for Vendetta score as being built around four or five principal elements, including a recurring figure that resembles the letter V when written out, which serves as a kind of connective tissue binding the other ideas together. This approach is particularly appropriate for a story in which individual identities gradually give way to larger political and ideological concepts.
One of the most intriguing elements is the incorporation of the medieval Dies Irae, the eight-note Gregorian chant traditionally associated with death, judgment and the Day of Wrath. Marianelli employs a variation based on its opening four notes, first heard during the track "TV Station", and later in “Governments Should Be Afraid of their People…” and “Knives and Bullets” in the form of an ostinato played by low ranged woodwinds. Rather than simply functioning as a conventional death motif, however, the idea is associated with punishment and appears in connection with V's acts of retribution against those responsible for his suffering and the atrocities committed by the Norsefire regime. Interestingly, this same musical material also provides the foundation for another of the score's most important ideas: the Freedom theme. Marianelli takes the opening four notes of the Dies Irae, rearranges them and subjects them to an entirely different harmonic treatment, transforming a musical figure traditionally associated with judgment and death into an expression of liberation and hope.
The resulting four-chord progression is arguably the score's most memorable and emotionally powerful thematic idea. Marianelli identifies the chords as A minor, B major, F major and D major, with four ascending notes, A, B, C and D, initially outlining their progression. The theme is introduced relatively subtly during the earlier portions of the score, receiving its first particularly recognizable statement in "..Governments Should Be Afraid of Their People...". As the narrative develops and V's revolutionary ideals begin to take hold, the material gradually expands, gaining greater prominence and increasingly powerful orchestral treatments. Its most impressive presentation arrives in "Evey Reborn", accompanying the extraordinary moment in which Evey finally emerges from her imprisonment and stands free in the rain. With soaring strings, dramatic brass and an expansive choral presence, this is one of the score's genuine emotional highlights, a beautifully constructed passage that captures the character's transformation and newfound sense of freedom.
Marianelli himself described the cue as the finest presentation of his freedom chords, explaining that Evey is effectively breathing freedom in as she emerges from the prison that had kept her chained, both physically and psychologically. The theme returns towards the end of the film in increasingly forceful variations, as the people of London embrace V's ideals and rise against their oppressors. Particularly outstanding is "He Was All of Us", where the composer delivers an exhilarating statement of the material, its soaring orchestral writing and powerful rhythmic drive almost inviting the listener to rise from their chair. It is a wonderfully stirring culmination of the score's central musical idea, transforming what began as an expression of individual liberation into a triumphant declaration of collective freedom.
Another important thematic element is Evey's own musical identity, represented by a delicate progression of three ascending notes. In contrast to the darker and more rhythmically driven material associated with the political conflict, this idea is characterized by a lighter, more intimate orchestral palette, often entrusted to romantic strings and expressive woodwinds, particularly clarinet and oboe. Its initial appearances in "Evey's Story" and "You'd Be the Least of My Worries" feature some beautiful passages, with the theme unfolding naturally through the orchestration. Yet Marianelli also demonstrates how effectively the material can be transformed to reflect the character's more tragic experiences. A particularly affecting orchestral variation appears midway through "Evey's Story", before returning at the beginning of "Process Her". Both passages accompany remarkably similar moments in Evey's past, as she hides beneath a bed while loved ones are taken away by the authorities: first her mother, and later her friend Gordon (played by Stephen Fry). The parallel between these scenes is reinforced by the music, which gives the theme a more anguished and tragic character. There is also a particularly lush string rendition of the melody towards the beginning of "Knives and Bullets", accompanying the brief, intimate moment in which V and Evey share a goodbye kiss. It is a lovely and short passage that reveals a more tender side to a score otherwise dominated by darkness and tension.
The government's musical identity undergoes a similarly interesting progression. Marianelli describes an actual government theme that begins in a relatively calm and subdued manner, eventually becoming increasingly angry and edgy as the film approaches its climax. Early appearances, such as those in "The Red Diary", reflect the cold, controlled and oppressive nature of Norsefire's authority. As the regime's grip begins to weaken, however, the music takes on a considerably more aggressive character, with increasingly prominent brass, heavy percussion and militaristic rhythms. This development is particularly evident in "The Dominoes Fall" and "Knives and Bullets", where the orchestral writing becomes more forceful and threatening. The transformation is especially effective in dramatic terms, as the government evolves from an apparently controlled instrument of oppression into an increasingly desperate and violent apparatus of repression. Although Sutler is the face of this regime, Marianelli's approach is less concerned with providing him with an individual musical identity than with representing the institution and the growing menace of its actions.
A further recurring idea is a dark three-note motif loosely derived from the opening of Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. Marianelli introduces this material in "Remember, Remember", and it receives a particularly noteworthy appearance during "The Enunciation of Truth". The connection is deliberately understated, as the composer wanted to avoid exhausting the reference before the actual work made its appearance in the film. The motif establishes an atmosphere of revolutionary anticipation, subtly preparing the listener for the eventual musical and symbolic significance of Tchaikovsky's composition. Its full meaning becomes apparent during the climactic events, when V turns the government's own broadcasting infrastructure into an instrument of revolution, using the 1812 Overture to accompany the destruction of Parliament. The film's final presentation of the abridged composition thus provides a fitting conclusion to a musical idea that has been quietly developing since the opening minutes.
Additionally, there is some interesting material associated with Inspector Finch, although, in keeping with Marianelli's reluctance to employ conventional character themes, it is better understood as a recurring musical idea connected to his investigation rather than a fully developed leitmotif. More subdued and introspective in character, it accompanies Finch as he gradually pieces together the fragments of V's history and uncovers the truth behind the government's actions. A particularly lovely appearance can be heard during the second half of "You'd Be the Least of My Worries", where a delicate clarinet figure unfolds above the underlying string orchestration. The material returns in "I Needed You, Inspector", and receives perhaps its most significant presentation at the beginning of "The Dominoes Fall". Here, it is juxtaposed with the Freedom theme, as Finch finally connects the various pieces of the puzzle and comes to understand the larger significance of V's actions. It is a subtle but effective musical development, reflecting his gradual transformation from an investigator serving the regime into someone who ultimately embraces the ideals of the revolution.
Another distinctive aspect of Marianelli's writing is his occasional use of ecclesiastical material, most notably in "Lust at the Abbey". Featuring a solemn, religious chant that lends the cue an unsettling, almost ritualistic quality, the music reflects the disturbing atmosphere surrounding Bishop Lilliman and his perverse interpretation of religious devotion. Marianelli deliberately blurs the boundaries between religious and erotic fervor here, using the chant to underline the character's hypocrisy and moral corruption. It is an unusual but particularly effective passage, adding another layer of darkness to the score's already rich musical palette.
Another of the absolute highlights of the score is the track "Valerie", a beautiful and deeply affecting cue that stands somewhat apart from the score's otherwise dark and tension-filled orchestral writing. It opens with a warm, intimate piano figure, soon joined by delicate woodwinds and several wonderfully lush string passages, initially suggesting a romantic and almost nostalgic atmosphere. As Valerie's story unfolds, however, the music gradually takes on a more somber and tragic character, with the piano motif acquiring an increasingly poignant quality. Particularly moving is the way Marianelli eventually brings this material into contact with the Freedom chords, allowing the two ideas to intertwine towards the end of the cue. The connection is especially meaningful given Valerie's story and the importance of her letter in helping Evey rediscover her sense of identity and freedom. What begins as a tender, deeply personal musical statement thus becomes part of the score's broader expression of resistance and liberation. It is a gorgeous piece of writing, and arguably one of the most emotionally resonant passages in the entire score.
Finally, the electronic component of Marianelli's composition deserves particular attention. While the orchestral writing provides much of the score's thematic and emotional foundation, electronics and distorted instrumental textures are frequently employed to convey V's more aggressive and unsettling side. Electric guitar is used to excellent effect throughout several of the combat sequences, providing sharp, abrasive accents that punctuate the action and contrast with the more traditional orchestral material. Its use is not limited to physical violence, however. A particularly clever example occurs during the first half of "Evey Reborn", as Evey gradually realizes that V has been responsible for her captivity and torture all along. The electric guitar enters as the tension builds, accompanying the growing sense of shock and betrayal before the cue eventually gives way to the expansive, liberating statement of the Freedom theme. This contrast between abrasive electronic textures and soaring orchestral writing is one of the score's most effective devices, reflecting the dual nature of V himself: an instrument of violence and destruction, but also the catalyst for a much larger movement towards freedom.
Taken as a whole, Marianelli's score is an impressively cohesive and varied work, built around a handful of musical ideas that gradually evolve and converge as the story moves towards its conclusion. The composer balances relentless tension and aggressive orchestral writing with brief passages of genuine warmth and emotional depth, while the recurring themes acquire an increasingly powerful significance as V's revolution gathers momentum. The result is a score whose musical journey mirrors the film's central ideas, culminating in some truly exhilarating orchestral writing. Yet, despite its many strengths, the original soundtrack album did not quite do the music justice.
The original V for Vendetta soundtrack was released by Astralwerks and featured a substantial selection of Marianelli's score, including several of its most memorable highlights. Nevertheless, some significant portions of the music were left behind, most notably the final orchestral cue, presented here as "He Was All of Us". It is difficult to understand why such an outstanding piece was omitted from the original album, particularly given the way it brings the score's central musical ideas to such a stirring conclusion. The release also included three songs, which are perfectly enjoyable in their own right but interrupt the continuity of the instrumental score and make for a less cohesive listening experience. This new presentation by Renovatio Records aims to address those shortcomings, bringing together a more extensive selection of Marianelli's music in chronological order, restoring several previously omitted cues and allowing the score to unfold without the interruptions of the songs.
Ideas are bulletproof, and great film scores are timeless. The fifth of November is a date worth remembering, and Marianelli’s V for Vendetta is a score worth rediscovering.
Track listing:
|
Track Title |
Cue Title |
|
1. Remember, Remember |
1m0-1a Logos and Guy Fawkes (Edited) |
|
2. Evey Meets V |
1m2 Fingermen (Edited) 1m3 Introductions |
|
3. TV Station |
2m1b Jordan Tower - 2m1c V Takes TV Station (Edited) |
|
4. The Enunciation of Truth |
2m2 V’s Speech 2m3a Foggy (Edited) |
|
5. “Governments should be afraid of their
people...” |
3m1 Prothero's Death (Edited) |
|
6. Evey's Story |
3m4 Evey's Story |
|
7. Lust at the Abbey |
4m1ab Bishop Lilliman - Not Tonight Father |
|
8. “You’d be the least of my worries” |
4m4 Alladdin's Cave (Edited) 4m5 Morgue |
|
9. The Red Diary |
4m6 Surridge's Death 4m7 The Red Diary |
|
10. Process Her |
5m2 Evey Kidnapped 5m3-4 Evey Processed (Edited) |
|
11. Valerie |
5m5a Valerie’s Story 5m5c The Salt Flats (Alternate) 5m5d No More Roses (Edited) |
|
12. Evey Reborn |
6m1ab Evey Is Free - Evey Reborn (Edited) |
|
13. “I needed you, Inspector” |
6m2b Evey Leaves 6m4ab Rockwood - Bad News (Edited) |
|
14. The Dominoes Fall |
7m0-1a-c Every Day - First Tile - Dominos
(Edited) |
|
15. Knives and Bullets |
7m3-6 Dominic Worried - The Train - Sutler
Freakout - Sutler Executed (Edited) 7m7a Touchy Guy 7m7b Neck-Ache |
|
16. “He was all of us” |
8m1a V Dies 8m1b-2 General Pompous - Human Dominos |
|
17. 1812 Overture (Abridged) |
8m4 1812 (Edited) |
