No disrespect to the late James Horner, but I can’t remember a single note from his Braveheart score,, and I can only remember fragments of Braveheart itself.
I was nominally “impressed” by this 1995 Oscar winner (well-captured horseback battle sequences, blue face paint, “freedom!”) but I didn’t really like it all that much. Too fecking violent. That contorted expression on William Wallace’s face as he was being disemboweled by the British…thanks all the same.
It opened 30 years ago and I’ve never once re-watched it.
My first and only viewing was at a pre-opening Rod Lurie screening series in Burbank. Mel Gibson, whom I’d initially met during an Elaine’s press schmooze in ‘83, showed up for a post-screening q&a. He was wearing mandals, for God’s sake, and I was sitting near the front and silently muttering to myself that the sight of Gibson’s peds was…uhm, unwelcome. Any guy who wears mandals to any public event (even a neighbor’s backyard brunch) has earned a reputational stain that can never be washed off.