The Sound of Collision
Think of Paul Haggis’s Best Picture-winning film Crash, and you almost immediately hear the music. The moody, electronic soundscape composed by Mark Isham became the emotional glue for the movie’s intersecting storylines of racial and social tension in Los
Angeles. Isham, a frequent collaborator with Haggis, created a score that was intimate, synthesized, and deeply atmospheric. It doesn't tell you how to feel; it creates a space for the film’s complex, often uncomfortable moments to breathe. In key scenes, like a tense car rescue or a child facing a gun, Haggis deliberately lets the music take over, a choice he called a "brave moment" where a director has to put their full faith in the score. The result is a sound that is now legendary, but it was the product of a journey that explored radically different musical paths.
The Ghost of a Temp Track
Before a composer creates an original score, directors often edit their films using temporary or "temp" music to establish a rhythm and tone. For Crash, Haggis initially leaned on music from The Prayer Cycle, a 1999 album by composer Jonathan Elias. This work is known for its blend of world music, classical, and rock, featuring artists like Alanis Morissette, James Taylor, and Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Using this as a temp track suggests that Haggis was initially drawn to a more global, overtly spiritual sound for his interlocking urban drama. While temp scores often serve as inspiration, they can sometimes influence a project so heavily that the director falls in love with them, a phenomenon known as "temp love." For a moment, the sound of Crash was trending in this grand, multi-vocal direction, a far cry from the subtle electronics that would ultimately define it.
An Entirely Different Film
An even more dramatic alternate path involved the work of a single artist: Canadian musician Loreena McKennitt. Haggis was so taken with her atmospheric, Celtic-infused world music that he considered a bold creative stroke. According to interviews, he licensed five of her songs and contemplated designing the entire film around them. This wouldn't have been a traditional score. Instead, McKennitt's pre-existing music would have served as the movie's primary emotional and sonic guide. It's a fascinating "what if." A film built around her ethereal, often mystical vocal work would have felt fundamentally different from the gritty, street-level anxiety of the final cut. The entire tone would have shifted from urban realism to something more akin to a modern fable. Haggis went back and forth on the idea, but ultimately decided it didn't quite fit his vision.
Finding the Right Voice
In the end, Haggis turned to his friend, trumpeter and composer Mark Isham, who had worked with him on the TV series EZ Streets. Isham was brought on before production even began, a sign of trust between the two. Rather than borrowing a feeling from other music, they decided to build one from the ground up. Isham's approach was completely electronic, a choice he said resulted in an astonishingly intimate sound. He crafted the score in his own studio, focusing on synth pads and haunting vocal textures to create a sense of conscience for the film. The music slows time when characters' tempers flare and offers a hint of grace when small mercies appear. This bespoke approach allowed the music to be woven directly into the film's DNA, providing a unique sonic identity that neither Elias's grand choral works nor McKennitt's lyrical folk-world fusion could have offered.
