There is much to be said for the talented Teddy Castellucci, who is perhaps best known for his work on comedies starring Adam Sandler, a teaming of star and composer that started with "The Wedding Singer" (1998) and continues to this day. Castellucci, however, is not just a 'funny music' guy. His score for the Sandler vehicle "Mr. Deeds" (2002), for example, is made up of epic adventure motifs and heartfelt love themes. And his score for “Little Nicky” (2000) has a slight horror-genre edge to it. It is a lighthearted orchestral score with a clever “tongue in cheek” thriller/horror tone, and his blend of these elements works perfectly. His score for Sandler’s “50 First Dates” (2004), with its Hawaiian-flavored music, shows us yet a slightly different side of Teddy Castellucci. You were a professional performer, a session player for movie scores, at an early age, which eventually led you to becoming a musical director for network television. How did all of this fall into place for you? I grew up in New York, on Long Island. I’ve been playing since I was nine years old. I started off as a drummer, then switched to guitar a couple months later. I played guitar and drums through all my formative years, studying and working on both instruments. I started playing sessions in New York when I was fourteen or fifteen. That was my passion and my love growing up. I never wanted to be a rock star, never cared about any of that kind of stuff. Now, I’m thirty-nine years old, and when I was younger, there were a lot of variety shows in television, like “This Is Tom Jones” and “Donnie & Marie”. I thought the coolest thing were the musicians who were playing behind all these acts. My desire was always to be a studio musician. That happened for me in New York at an early age. When I moved out to Los Angeles, I was fortunate because my career took off very quivkly. I became musical director for the show “Into the Night”. I was told that I was the youngest musical director in television history. I don’t know if that’s true, but that’s what ABC told me. Then this other career pops up. I think it’s very important in the music business in general to be adaptable and open to things that might come your way. As a session player for movie scores, what did you do? Generally I would just play guitar just on the sessions, and later on I started arranging and doing orchestrating for some composers. That’s really how you start to learn the business. If you’re fortunate enough that your time comes to get in as a composer, you’ve already seen the process from the inside. Especially if you’re arranging and orchestrating, you’re a little bit more aware of the internal process. If you’re fortunate or unfortunate enough, it depends, to be part of meetings with producers and directors and things like that, you can really start to see how the mechanism of film works, which is different from some of the other recording mediums. It’s very different from records. It’s very different from television. It’s an entity unto itself. So I was very fortunate to kind of see some of the things from the inside, so when the opportunity came for me to have a shot at scoring a film, I kind of knew somewhat what to expect. And that was invaluable. How did you land your first scoring assignment? I got hired to do all the pre-records on the movie “The Wedding Singer”, which is essentially a musical. It’s wall-to-wall music. It’s an eighties’ period piece. I got hired to do the arrangements and kind of oversee all the pre-record sessions before shooting started, and they went really well. I was introduced to Adam Sandler and we got along famously. He’s an East Coast guy, like me. We’re of similar age and we just hit it off. At the end of the sessions, he said, “We had a problem with my last movie, and we ended up throwing out most of the score. Would you be interested in doing this score, because I really like working with you?” I said, “Absolutely!” So that was my first film. I know people reading this are going to hate hearing this, because I was fortunate enough to hop right into things. I didn’t do student films. I didn’t do B-movies. How that fell in your lap is amazing. It is. And that’s what I mean when I say, “You just never know.” If you’re in the fray of things, working with people who are part of the creative process, you just never know what kind of opportunity is going to come your way. So you should prepare as best you possibly can because, as we all know, getting an opportunity like that is very difficult. When it comes, if you’re prepared, that’s your shot. Prior to “The Wedding Singer”, what was your knowledge or awareness of music in films? It was pretty high because I had played on films for six or seven years. So I’d gotten to see a bunch of different situations, and talked to the other studio players, like Tommy Tedesco, who I was honored enough to know a little bit before he passed away. There is no more legendary a person than Tommy. Later on, I got to know Chuck DeMonico, who passed away a couple of years ago. These are giant people in their fields, and I was fortunate enough to be in the position where I was around these kinds of people all the time. I found out that if I kept my mouth shut and my ears open, I learned a whole lot. These were also super nice human beings who were open to questions, which is the only way you find out about things. I had no contact with composers, except for working for them as a player. But I obviously had a ton of contacts, because of the musicians I’d see all the time. One of the most rewarding things about being a composer now is that I get to be part of the process that gives employment to tons of people whom I spent a lot of the years on the other side of the glass with. So my sessions always have a great feeling of camaraderie. I always want my dates to feel real relaxed and have a great vibe. But there’s always underlying and not-so-underlying pressures: the time pressure, the creative pressure, all of that stuff that has to happen because film deadlines keep getting pushed up farther and farther until you’re really at the eleventh hour. This is becoming more of the norm than the exception these days. Those pressures are a shame because they don’t allow the creative process to really flow. Right. Film composers really can’t afford to have days when stuff doesn’t come to them. Missing days is not an option in this profession. It’s not like concert works or things of that nature. It’s a create-on-demand profession that requires making changes at the sessions themselves. Being a session player is such amazing training for being a film composer because the jobs have such huge parallels to each other: It’s create it now, on the spot. You have to have the ability to do that or you won’t survive in the business. That’s just the hard, cold reality of it. Have you ever run into writer’s block or challenges that put you in a panic state? Oh sure, absolutely. But generally, I’m pretty lucky. I try to work through that as best I can, and it really doesn’t happen that I hit a wall and nothing comes. Sometimes, I might have to spin my wheels for an hour or two, but then the floodgates usually open and stuff starts to pour out, thank God. Not having that happen is really not an option. It’s just not. Another thing, besides deadlines, is the rejected score, which not only tightens the schedule further for the next composer but also has to be discouraging. I know you haven’t had this happen yet, but what are your thoughts about having a score rejected? I’ve been fortunate again. I’ve just had great relationships with some of the people I’ve worked with. Sure, sometimes you’ll have something that you think works perfectly, but a director or someone else in the process will go, “Naw, why don’t we try something different?” As a composer, you can be passionate about what you do and try to take a stand, but at the end of the day… I would imagine it’s different for John Williams or Jerry [Goldsmith], rest his soul, than it is for some of the guys. In general, a composer is a facilitator of someone else’s vision. If that person allows you to bring your creativity to the party, that’s a win-win all the way around. But if you get into a stalemate, the director wins or else he will replace your score. That happens so much nowadays. A lot of that, I’m sure, is not a reflection on the composer; it’s just a difference of opinion. At the end of the day, you have to please the person who has the final say. No matter how good you think a piece of music is, how great you think it works for a particular scene, or how well it serves the movie, if the filmmaker does not agree with you, that piece of music will never wind up in that film. That is what is so different about film composition as opposed to other kinds of composition. It’s a whole different headspace to be in. In general, this confounds me. It seems to me that when a composer is selected, it should be for a reason, correct? There are so many political minefields one must cross as a film composer. Sometimes, if something gets torpedoed, you might not ever know where it came from or why. That’s a hard reality to live with. I haven’t had any of my stuff get replaced yet, but I’m still early in my career. I would make a bet with you that, unfortunately, sooner or later, it’s going to happen to me, because it happens to virtually everybody. Often not the fault of the composer and their abilities… Right. Generally, I don’t think it’s a reflection on the composer. Sometimes, it’s not even a reflection on the director. Some people have the luxury and the option of changing their minds, which could happen after you’ve spent a whole lot of time and effort giving them what you think they want. But if they decide it’s not what they want, they want something different, they can ask you to do something different or they can just say that they want to try it with something else. That is their prerogative. I’d like to talk about temp scores. Here’s a hypothetical temp-score situation: Say a filmmaker temps a movie with some of Thomas Newman’s music but hires Chris Young or James Newton Howard to score it. Young and Howard quite clearly have their own voices, which are different from Newman’s. Why wouldn’t a filmmaker always hire the composer whose music was used as temp? I know they often don’t. That particular situation would have me scratching my head, too. But they might have tried and maybe Thomas wasn’t available or he said no or something like that. That’s a very interesting example, because when you talk about a composer like Tom, his music has a very specific kind of sound to it. It’s very unique, very specific unto him. So when a film is temped with his music, but they don’t hire him, yet they want that style, it’s going to sound like a rip-off, and it’s going to sound generic. What he does, he does so brilliantly that if you get anybody else to do it, it’s just going to be a secondhand version of him. People have to realize, too, that composers are sometimes asked to rip themselves off. I’ve had that happen. A film is temped with my music, and then, after I write the score for it, the filmmaker might say, “Yeah, that’s okay, but I really like your other thing.” So you wind up ripping yourself off. You try not to, of course. Composers don’t want to rip themselves off or do the same thing over and over again, or worse, have to emulate somebody else. But there are instances, certainly, when a filmmaker wants a certain style. If the filmmaker is set on that, you have a choice: You can give them that style and try to infuse it with as much originality or creativity as you can, so it’s not generic, or you can say, “No, I’m not going to do that,” in which case they will replace you. You always have that choice to make. And that’s not an easy choice. Have you ever been distracted going from a temp score to your own music? I’m sure if you ask many different composers this question, you’re going to get many different answers. For me, it’s not really a problem. Here’s how I try to deal with temp music: If a director says to me, “I like the temp score in this spot,” I’ll generally try to listen to it one time and say, “Okay.” I’ll listen stylistically because most filmmakers can’t talk, nor should they be expected to talk, to you in musical terms. It’s generally hard for directors to explain to you what they’re looking for, especially if they’ve been watching a film in the editing room with the same temp music every day for months. When you come along with a fresh perspective, which obviously is a good thing, and write something that could be 180 degrees different from the temp music, it is sometimes very hard for them to wrap their mind around. It’s not what they’re used to hearing. Temping is just part of the film process nowadays. Films have to be temped because the filmmakers do recruited audiences screenings, which have value to the studio for marketing and all kinds of other things. But what happens, of course, is that temp music, regardless of what it is, starts to get engrained into everybody who is involved with the film. I know that the temp score is a valuable tool, but I think that filmmakers ought to refrain from temping with other film scores and just use source music. That would certainly be better. But, source music will never sound like good film music. And because test screenings have an enormous impact on the whole process of making a film, filmmakers certainly want the best test-screening results that they can get. If you’re testing a thriller and you’re using thriller music from several films that have been successful in the last five years, that music could have a subliminal effect on audience members, who might subliminally think, “Oh, this is familiar to me, so it is good.” I’m sure that a lot more people have put a lot more thought into the psychology of this than I have, but that’s how it strikes me. I can get around that if everything on a certain project aligns so that I can write early in the game. I’ve done it both ways: I’ve come in way late in the game after all the audience previews are done and written a whole score in three weeks or whatever. And I’ve been on a film very early on. Both ways have advantages and disadvantages. The advantage of being on a film very early is that your demos go into the temp screenings, and if you’re fortunate, the screenings go well and the film seems to be working and everybody is happy. In that case, there is no actual temp music. About half of “Mr. Deeds” had no temp music. The audience screenings were done with demos of my score. If the filmmakers use your demos for the main thematic elements of the film and the main sound of the movie, be that very orchestral with electronic elements or whatever the particular sound of that movie is, they will get used to hearing your music when they see the scene. That’s certainly the upside of it. The downside of coming onto the project very early is that there’s a very good chance most of the stuff you write will have no bearing on what the final movie is. You’ll write music for scenes that will not be in the film and scenes that will be unbelievably truncated from the original version of what you wrote. So you could spend a lot of time doing things that, depending on the project, could be for nothing. If you come on too early in the process, the filmmakers probably haven’t thought a ton about music yet. When you start showing your music, it could be like, “No, that’s not what I want.” Or it can go the other way. Obviously each director and each situation is unique. Even on productions with the same people, the dynamic of each movie is always a little bit different. A great relationship with a filmmaker seems to be very productive, because it allows the composer to free up the “what ifs”. You already have a sense of what that person wants. The strongest scores often seem to be those written for directors and producers with whom the composer has had an ongoing relationship. Making movies, in my view, is such a team sport. It is so between a director and a producer – if the producer has a strong opinion about things – and the studio. In the best-case scenarios, people will lead you to a place where you wouldn’t have gone by yourself. They might make a comment and you might go, “Oh, I didn’t see it that way at all, but I get what you mean. Let me try that.” It could turn out to be great. I always like getting another person’s opinion because one word or one phrase could spark an idea in my head and I go, “Oh, you know what, I would have never thought of that! That’s a cool idea, so let me run with it.” Boy, you never know where a good idea is going to come from. If you’re not open to that, you’re just closing down some of your options. Which composers inspired you as you developed your style? The people whose music I most relate to, whose music – pretty much everything they do – just resonates with me immediately. Three people come to mind: James Newton Howard, Alan Silvestri, and the king, John Williams. I don’t mean to suggest that you take from James Newton Howard, but in your more lighthearted scores, I can hear a certain tone or style that might be somewhat similar to his. That’s actually a nice compliment because that’s the level I aspire to. Everything I’ve heard him do is on such a high level. His career is, again, what I would aspire to. I have been very fortunate. I’ve had a lot of success in comedy. This is still early in my career, but if you listen to some of my scores, hopefully you’ll hear my skill levels in other genres, even though the music comes from comedy films. I have noticed a lot of styles in your music that would be great in other genres. I certainly hear that in James [Newton Howard]. My God, “The Devil’s Advocate” sounds nothing like “Dave”. It sounds nothing like “Snow Falling on Cedars”. And all of that sounds nothing like “Major League” if you go back to his early career. He comes from a record background, too. So maybe that’s also why I relate to his music – because of its production values and its interesting use of color, not just acoustic color, but soundscape and textural kinds of things. I just very much relate to virtually all the music that I’ve heard him do. What is your writing process? It differs on each project, and it really differs depending on what the schedule is. If you come in late in the game, you have to start writing some projects immediately. I work well that way. I work well under pressure. That’s one kind of creative head to be in. You can be in another kind of creative head if you have the luxury of maybe a week or so to watch the film a couple times. Then you can really think about it and try to get your head around it before you start writing and developing thematic ideas and just what you think is sonically going to serve the film the best. I can work either way. But, generally, the first time I watch a film, and sometimes when I read a script, I’ll start to get a sense in my head of what I think the score should sound like. Very often I’ll get thematic ideas right off the bat, and a lot of those wind up being in the final version of the movie. Do you sit down at the piano with a pencil and paper? I start with pencil and paper first. I find that the music comes out the best that way. Do you think that happens often anymore? I think that varies greatly from composer to composer. I do pretty much ninety-nine percent of a cue with pencil and paper before anything goes to synth. I just find that works best for me. Some people might never even pick up a pencil. Film composition is such an individual thing. I’m always curious about how other people’s processes work. With what you’re doing I’m sure it’s amazing to hear all the different answers to this question from all the different composers. I can’t wait to read your book because I don’t know a lot of other composers. Again, I come from being a musician on the other side of the glass. So I know all the people whom I would play for or whatever, but that’s a different kind of relationship. Yes, it is exciting and intriguing, really. There is so much creativity going on that is often taken for granted. Some may wonder why I interviewed all these composers who, like you said, have their own stories and processes and so on. I hope these interviews will ignite some reader’s unknown passion. That’s great, man. I am excited to hear these stories. The film industry often seems to pigeonhole composers by genre. Since you’ve scored so many comedies, have you been frustratingly pigeonholed or are comedies your favorite work? I’m not here by choice; it’s just kind of what happened. It’s frustrating in some respects, and in other respects, I kiss the ground every day for what’s happened to me. I had a really successful career as a player. Then I started to arrange records and had success that way. Then the film-scoring thing happened and my first film was a hit movie, and I’ve been lucky enough to have a lot of hits and a lot of success in this genre. To bitch about it is ridiculous. Having said that, I would love to do other genres. I think that will happen, but I also understand the business enough to know that people hire you to do what you’ve already been proven successful doing. It’s very hard to get them to take chances. If they hire people with proven track records in the same genre of film that they’re making, that takes their stress level down a couple notches. I was offered something that was totally different from anything I’ve ever done before, but I don’t want to be too specific about it because I wound up not taking the film for several reasons. It would have been amazing to do. There was almost two hours of score in the film. There were no songs. It was not a comedy at all. That was the first offer I’ve gotten that was 180 degrees away from what I’ve proved doing. I’ve got my fingers crossed that there will be others. It’s way early into my career though. I mean, my first film came out only six years ago. I’ve scored thirteen films at this point. This is where temp music can actually help you. A composer often gets hired if a film is temped with his music and the music seems to be working well and all of the parties involved think that the style fits the movie. I’ve certainly benefited from that, because my music is starting to be used as temp in a lot of films. I get calls from music editor friends and different people all the time, telling me that so-and-so temped half their movie with this score or that score of mine. I’ve gotten hired because of that. The only problem with that is if they are using your music, it is probably being temped to another comedy, right? Well, yes, this is probably true, unless somebody takes some of my non-comedic music from a comedy and temps it in a different genre. Another way you can break out from a pigeonholed role is if a director or producer or somebody whom you’ve worked with and formed a very strong bond with works in a different genre from one you’ve worked with them before. You know, for me, I’m dying to do an adventure movie, like an “Indiana Jones”, that kind of stuff. Hopefully, one of the directors whom I have a good relationship with from doing comedies will think of me when he does an adventure movie and give me a shot at it. I can hear your dramatic abilities, and I hope a director will read this and ask for a demo from you/your agent. A prime example of your dramatic music is in “Little Nicky”. You spread your wings from comedic work into a dramatic, somewhat epic work that is bold and almost “superhero-ish”. Thank you very much. That was a fun movie for me to score because it was a very broad canvas to paint on. That’s a score that has a ton of combinations of traditional orchestral music with a ton of electronic stuff. Hopefully these opportunities will come. I feel good about them, and there is definitely progress being made that way. But, generally, people think of me for what people already know me for – comedies. When I talk about James Newton Howard and Alan Silvestri, those two guys in particular, that’s such a thing to shoot for in my view, because I think their music is always on a high level. And look at their careers – they do all kinds of varied films. They have very strong bonds with several directors, and those directors use them no matter what genre film they’re making. That’s a wonderful thing. If I could pattern my career – in terms of the kinds of films I’m offered – after anybody, it would certainly be those two gentlemen. What do you find most rewarding in your career? That’s a good one, and in some ways a very tough question to answer. I try never to take for granted the fact that I’m lucky enough to be working on things that go out to the world and hopefully give people enjoyment. And sometimes give them enjoyment when they’re not in the best situations or have had a crappy day or any of that kind of stuff. Maybe I help in my little tiny contribution to brighten a person’s day a little bit. That’s a wonderful thing. That can have far-reaching effects. You’re not curing cancer with this stuff, but at the same time, if you can make people laugh or cry or touch them in any way with your little contribution to the filmmaking process, that’s pretty damn cool. Another upside of this work is that you get to work on the highest level, with the people who are on the highest level of all their particular fields. That’s an honor and a privilege. I get to have my music played and recorded by the best people in the world all the time. I never take that for granted. This career and this field allow you to provide a nice life for your family. It’s a wonderful thing if that happens while doing something you love. That’s win-win. I feel like I know you well from your music, because I figured you would answer my questions the way you have. You are a composer who brings this quiet passion to life. Also, it’s exciting and fresh to hear you being so humble about your accomplishments. You are right: Your music affects many, consciously or subconsciously. This is wonderful to hear, thank you. You know, sometimes it’s really easy to lose sight of that fact when you’ve been up for two days and you’re battling a deadline and the picture keeps changing and all you want to do is throw all the shit against the wall. Another good thing about this profession is that you can have time off. You can have a couple months at a time off to be with your family and to take a step back and look at your work. I’m so fortunate. There’s not a day that goes by that I can’t flip around the channels, with all the cable channels and stuff, and see something that I was lucky enough to work on. Sometimes on cable there are three or four movies that I’ve worked on playing at one time. Then you get your BMI or your ASCAP statement and you see that your music is being played literally all over the world in the theaters and on television. If you can step back from it a little bit, you can go, “My God, how cool is this?!” It’s a cool thing. But don’t get me wrong, it’s also a tough business. Being a film composer is not for the faint of heart. I’m sure I’m not the first person to say that to you. It’s a hard, demanding, pressure-cooker job. Pointing out the job’s negative aspects is easy. I think too many do get caught up in that and forget what they have accomplished. You’re doing something you’re passionate about and, at the same time, able to provide for your family and have fun doing it. God bless you. How many people in the world are in that position? Not many. If you’re one of them, you kiss the ground and say, “Thank you,” even on days when you’re not so psyched about it. Everybody has those days, and if they say that they don’t, they’re lying. It’s just life.