Singer/songwriter Randy Newman looks back on his decades-long music career

DAVID BIANCULLI, HOST:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm David Bianculli. Some people don't know Randy Newman's name, but they do know his celebrated movie songs, like "You've Got A Friend In Me" from "Toy Story." Some people also know him as the guy who wrote a big novelty hit about short people. And a smaller number are aware of a large body of work, including dark songs about relationships, racism, geopolitics, pollution and religion that ranks among the finest pop music to emerge from Los Angeles in the latter part of the 20th century. A new biography of Newman by Robert Hilburn takes its title from one of Newman's songs. It's called "A Few Words In Defense Of Our Country," and rock critic Ken Tucker says it presents all these facets of Newman's life.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "LOUISIANA 1927")

RANDY NEWMAN: (Singing) What has happened down here is the wind have changed. Clouds roll in from the north, and it started to rain. Rained real hard...

KEN TUCKER, BYLINE: Three of Randy Newman's uncles were Hollywood film composers. And their skill and success was apparently, according to this new biography, a huge burden for a young Randy Newman, who knew he, too, wanted to be a musician, but doubted his talent. He took refuge in music his uncles ignored - rock 'n' roll, especially the tumbling piano hits of Fats Domino. Rock music gave Newman an escape route into both fantasy and social commentary, and soon he was making up characters and inhabiting them.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "MARIE")

NEWMAN: (Singing) You looked like a princess the might we met, with your hair piled up high. I will never forget. I'm drunk right now, baby, but I've got to be, or I never could tell you what you mean to me. I loved you the first time I saw you, and I always will love you, Marie.

TUCKER: That's the achingly beautiful "Marie" from the 1974 album "Good Old Boys." In Robert Hilburn's telling, Newman is torn between two impulses as an artist. He wants to have hits. Writing pop music, after all, means it should be popular. And he wants to say something, to express opinions on racism, sexism and the always fraught grandeur of the American dream.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "IT'S MONEY THAT I LOVE")

NEWMAN: (Singing) I don't love the mountains. I don't love the sea. I don't love Jesus. He never done a thing for me. I ain't pretty like my sister, smart like my dad or good like my mama. It's money that I love. It's money that I love.

TUCKER: That's the thrillingly sour "It's Money That I Love" from 1979. This biography spends its nearly 500 pages trying to get at the sources of Newman's range and ambition. Along the way, the book describes a recording industry that no longer exists. When Newman's childhood pal Lenny Waronker became a Warner Brothers executive, he was able to sign Newman and nurture his friend's lovely, but eccentric, oblique, but abrasive music for the near decade it took to yield a hit - "Short People," in 1977. No record company would do that nowadays, but what Warners ended up getting was far more than a novelty smash. They got rich film scores, character sketches of the exploited and the creepy and much prickly historical observation.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "A FEW WORDS IN DEFENSE OF OUR COUNTRY")

NEWMAN: (Singing) Just a few words in defense of our country, whose time at the top could be coming to an end. We don't want your love. Respect, at this point, is pretty much out of the question. But times like these, we sure could use a friend.

TUCKER: That's the song that gives this book its title - 2008's "A Few Words In Defense Of Our Country." What I was struck by over and over as I prepared this review was how much Newman's work, ever since his debut in 1968, anticipates the times we're living through today. The writing in this biography isn't really worthy of its subject. Hilburn was a workmanlike newspaper writer, pop critic for the Los Angeles Times for 35 years who rarely manufactures gleaming prose. But here he's performed the heroic brute labor of interviewing seemingly everybody in Newman's life and organizes it into a narrative that will convince any relative newcomer to Newman's work that this guy is some kind of genius.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "I'M DEAD (BUT I DON'T KNOW IT)")

NEWMAN: (Singing) I have nothing left to say, but I'm going to say it anyway. Thirty years upon a stage, and I hear the people say, why won't he go away? I pass the houses of the dead. They're calling me to join their group. But I stagger on instead. Dear God, sweet God, protect me from the truth, hey. I'm dead, but I don't know it.

UNIDENTIFIED MUSICAL ARTISTS: (Singing) He's dead. He's dead.

NEWMAN: (Singing) I'm dead, but I don't know.

UNIDENTIFIED MUSICAL ARTISTS: (Singing) He's dead. He's dead.

NEWMAN: (Singing) I'm dead, but I don't know it.

UNIDENTIFIED MUSICAL ARTISTS: (Singing) He's dead. He's dead.

TUCKER: Of course, defining Newman's genius has always been the difficult part, if only because it's so wide-ranging. He's composed some of the prettiest melodies and cleverest lyrics of the modern era. He's sung in the voice of a slave trader in the song "Sail Away" and in the character of an unabashed racist in the song "Rednecks." Newman essentially introduced the unreliable narrator to singer-songwriter pop. And for that, he has been misunderstood as agreeing with the redneck or actually hating short people.

Now more than ever, he's not a pop star for the mawkish, literal-minded strain in our current culture. Randy Newman is now 80 years old. One of his masterpieces, "Good Old Boys," is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year. It remains so alive, so vital. I urge you to go and listen to it.

BIANCULLI: Ken Tucker reviewed the new biography of Randy Newman, written by Robert Hilburn, called "A Few Words In Defense Of Our Country."

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "I'LL BE HOME")

NEWMAN: (Singing) I'll be home. I'll be home. When your nights are troubled, and you're all alone. When you're feeling down, need some sympathy. There's no one else around to keep you company. Remember, baby, you can always count on me. I'll be home. I'll be home. I'll be home.

BIANCULLI: After a break, we'll hear Newman's interview from 1998. This is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF RANDY NEWMAN'S "TELEVISION, TELEVISION, TELEVISION")

BIANCULLI: This is FRESH AIR. I'm David Bianculli. With the release of this new biography of Randy Newman, we thought it would be good to hear from the man himself. In 1998, Terry Gross spoke with him. At the time, he had a new four-CD box set called "Guilty: 30 Years Of Randy Newman." It collected his studio recordings, including classics like "Sail Away," "Lonely At The Top," "Rednecks" and "Political Science." It also featured demos and other previously unreleased tracks and scores from such films as "Ragtime," "The Natural," "Parenthood" and "Toy Story." Let's hear Terry's 1998 interview with Randy Newman.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR BROADCAST)

TERRY GROSS, BYLINE: Randy Newman, welcome back to FRESH AIR.

NEWMAN: It's good to be here.

GROSS: I want to focus on that third CD, the CD of mostly demos and previously unreleased material. The first song on that CD is called "Golden Gridiron Boy," and this is a song about not getting the girls and not being a football hero. How did you write this song?

NEWMAN: I don't know. It sounds like I wrote it with my foot now, but I was 18. Actually, I got it wrong. It should have been "Gridiron Golden Boy." I mean, that's the way I wrote it, but I must have got flustered at the recording session. And I think Lenny Waronker called me and says, oh, why don't you write a song? I started writing songs when I was, like, 16. And it was football season, and he was a giant football fan, and I was a football fan. He said, you know, why don't you write a football song? As if it were - a completely archaic form in the first place. Besides, you know, the nerd doesn't end up getting the girl or anything. It's a very strange effort.

GROSS: Speaking of strange, this record was produced by Pat Boone. How did you get...

NEWMAN: Yeah.

GROSS: ...Hooked up with Pat Boone?

NEWMAN: My father was a doctor, and Pat Boone was a patient. And he heard me sing and was one of the first people, actually, to like the way I sung, you know, so I'm forever grateful to him.

GROSS: Now, Glen Campbell was featured on guitar on this track.

NEWMAN: Yeah. Yeah, he did a lot of demos. He's probably on a lot of these other things, too. He was doing demos then. When I started, the first people I worked with were Leon Russell and David Gates, who later went on to form Bread, and Jimmy Gordon, who was in Blind Faith. And a lot of those people played demos, early demos with me. So...

GROSS: Well, let's hear "Golden Gridiron Boy." Do you want to say anything else about it before we spin it?

NEWMAN: No. I'll say what I said in the liner notes of the box set - love means never having to say you're sorry.

GROSS: (Laughter) OK. This is Randy Newman, recorded in 1962.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "GOLDEN GRIDIRON BOY")

NEWMAN: (Singing) In his football uniform, he looks 10 feet tall. All the girls run after him, and my girl's in front of them all 'cause he's a football hero. She's in love with him. In every game, it's still the same. She talks of nothing but him. Oh, when he makes a touchdown, she goes wild with joy. And every score, I lose more ground to her golden gridiron boy 'cause I'm too small to make the team. I can only play in the band. But I'm big enough to have a dream that one day she'll understand that I'm the one who loves her. And he loves the cheers of the crowd. One day she'll see what she means to me, and I know that she'll be proud. Yeah, I'm too small to make the team. I can only play in the band. But I'm big enough to have a dream that one day she'll understand that he just loves the glory. That's all he'll ever enjoy. And that's the inside story of her golden gridiron boy. Yeah, that's the inside story of her golden gridiron boy.

UNIDENTIFIED PEOPLE: Yay. Yay, team. Go, go, go.

GROSS: Randy Newman, did you expect that to be a hit?

NEWMAN: No, I didn't. I didn't. I don't think I did, and I was not...

GROSS: And you were right (laughter).

NEWMAN: I was right, yeah. I almost never have - all it's been is, like, a skeleton in the closet. But, you know, it's a very (laughter) sad song when I really listen to it, you know? The guy - I'm too small to make the team? Wow.

GROSS: I can only play in the band.

NEWMAN: And that's quite an admission, yeah.

GROSS: Now...

NEWMAN: I didn't exactly have my finger on the pulse of the...

GROSS: (Laughter).

NEWMAN: ...American public's desire for heroes, you know?

GROSS: So you weren't expecting to be a singer, but you were hoping to be a songwriter. You were a songwriter.

NEWMAN: I was, yeah.

GROSS: You were writing for a publishing company.

NEWMAN: That I was.

GROSS: What was your image of a songwriter back then? This is a kind of transitional period in the early '60s. You know, you're past Tin Pan Alley. You're kind of in the end of the Leiber and Stoller era and right at the kind of dawn of the big - of the period where bands were going to be writing their own songs.

NEWMAN: The image that I cherish and love is the image - I don't know whether you would remember - was, like, I remember Donald O'Connor and Sid Fields (ph). I think they used to play this song right here, and they'd - listen to this. Listen to this. Jimmy Cagney had a movie like that once, except he was a writer. I can't think - it was with Pat O'Brien. I loved the idea of these two guys getting all excited about some, you know, Korean war song or something. The image I had was that ancient motion picture image of Tin Pan Alley and, you know, two guys hammering it out. And it was also of Carole King and Gerry Goffin and Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil and the people who were very successful contemporaneously with my attempts to write songs for people.

GROSS: I want to get to another track. This is a song called "Love Is Blind," which is - you know, just as the first song that we heard, "Golden Gridiron Boy," is very out of character for you, this kind of cheerful - well, not cheerful, but...

NEWMAN: No, this is a...

GROSS: Not cheerful....

NEWMAN: This isn't cheerful, but...

GROSS: ...But an upbeat football song.

NEWMAN: It's a generic lyric.

GROSS: Yeah, exactly.

NEWMAN: You know, that's what it is.

GROSS: Right. You say in the notes that you wrote it when you were 18.

NEWMAN: Yeah.

GROSS: So you were 18 and already writing that love is bitter, love is hopeless, love is blind. It leads me to think that you already had a sense of yourself as writing more dark and cynical songs than your average songwriter.

NEWMAN: Well, there are some pretty lugubrious love songs. You know, I mean, a lot of them are pretty bleak. You know, he stopped loving her today, and a lot of country things. But I was a pretty down cat, I guess.

(LAUGHTER)

NEWMAN: I don't know.

GROSS: Well, let's hear the song "Love Is Blind," written in about 1962. The recording we'll hear is 1968. And this is from Randy Newman's box set "Guilty: 30 Years Of Randy Newman."

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "LOVE IS BLIND")

NEWMAN: (Singing) They say that love's a sweet thing, and for lovers, the sun will always shine. But in spite of what they say, I think of love this way - love is bitter, love is hopeless, love is blind. I learned the hard and lonely way love can't last through the year. I've spent a thousand empty yesterdays hiding behind a veil of tears. And our poets may write about love. And wise men may sing its praise. But I'll always remember, as I go through the empty day, Love is bitter, love is hopeless, love is blind.

Oh my (laughter).

GROSS: "Love Is Blind," one of the demos on Randy Newman's box set "Guilty." What were you saying there?

NEWMAN: I was laughing at the ending. You know, I was just sort of aimless wandering. You know, in the motion picture movie business, we call it grazing.

GROSS: (Laughter).

NEWMAN: You know, I was waiting to end it. I know where I should've gone, but I didn't go there. It made me laugh.

GROSS: Well, that was a demo. Did you ever record it other than that for yourself?

NEWMAN: No, I never thought enough of it.

GROSS: Well, I like it a lot. Why don't you like it?

NEWMAN: Yeah, I do, too.

GROSS: OK.

NEWMAN: Oh, veil of tears, you know, things like that.

GROSS: Well, sure.

NEWMAN: I mean, yeah, sure. But, I mean, I grew to not be able to stand that stuff coming from myself. I mean, I'll listen to records and love them, and they'll have lyrics like that in them. But I can't do it. You know, it's like, if you know better, don't do it.

BIANCULLI: Randy Newman speaking to Terry Gross in 1998. After a break, we'll hear more of their conversation. And film critic Justin Chang reviews the new thriller "Conclave," set in the Vatican. I'm David Bianculli, and this is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "I LOVE L.A.")

NEWMAN: (Singing) Hate New York City. It's cold and it's damp, and all the people dressed like monkeys. Let's leave Chicago to the Eskimos. That town's a little bit too rugged for you and me, you bad girl. Rolling down Imperial Highway with a big, nasty redhead at my side, Santa Ana winds blowing hot from the north, and we were born to ride. Roll down the window, put down the top, crank up the Beach Boys, baby. Don't let the music stop. We're going to ride it till we just can't ride it no more. From the South Bay to the Valley, from the west side to the east side, everybody's very happy 'cause the sun is shining all the time. Looks like another perfect day. I love LA. We love it. I love LA. We love it. We love it.

(SOUNDBITE OF RANDY NEWMAN'S "MONSTERS, INC.")

BIANCULLI: This is FRESH AIR. I'm David Bianculli, professor of television studies at Rowan University. We're listening to Terry's 1998 interview with singer, songwriter and composer Randy Newman, whose ironic popular songs include "Short People," "I Love LA" and "Lonely At The Top." He's also written scores for the films "Ragtime," "The Natural," "Toy Story," "Monsters, Inc." and more. When Terry spoke with him, he had just released a four-CD boxset compiling 30 years of his work.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR BROADCAST)

GROSS: And you were telling us before that when you started writing songs, you didn't think of yourself as a singer. When did you actually start performing your own songs and thinking of yourself as a performer?

NEWMAN: Well, it would be two separate answers, probably. I mean, I think the first time I was on stage was in 1970. And I was - I remember the first time I played, it was in some place in San Anselmo, the Lion's something. Lion's Share? And my back was to the audience, and I think I took a Dexedrine or something, which made me go inward a bit. And my back was facing them, and there was a little upright piano. And I just played, and it was the last time I ever took anything, you know, on stage. And it was just kind of uncomfortable, but I sort of liked it. The next time I performed, I did like it. And I still do, and - which is the reason for doing it. But I - and so I thought of myself as a performer, yeah, right, you know, sometime in 1970, 1971. Not in the traditional sense, but I could make an audience laugh, and they'd sit - get quiet for the songs they're supposed to be quiet for. And I liked it. It's a good deal easier than writing, I - for me.

GROSS: I think that your becoming a singer opened up your songs in terms of subject matter, too. I mean, how many other singers would be willing to sing songs in the persona of a racist, or of someone who's very insecure and unsure of themselves, in the way that a lot of the characters in your songs are?

NEWMAN: True. Actually, you know, there's more of it lately than there ever has been. You know, a lot of these great girl writers and - are willing to admit to insecurities, and bad behavior, and - with knowledge. You know, you - people write songs where they behave badly - you know, she's having my baby, and things like that - and don't realize it, you know?

GROSS: (Laughter).

NEWMAN: But if it's a conscious, artistic thing - you know, some of the rap, too, is that way - it's very unusual. You're right. It's an unusual - to take on a persona that's less than heroic or admirable. And I - but I'd started doing it in '65, and I still didn't think of myself as necessarily having a recording career. I'm so precise about this date, because 'cause of this boxset, I can hear that "Simon Smith" was, like, the first song that I wrote that was a little - I believe a little off center. Maybe there's an earlier one. I don't know.

GROSS: Well, I want to get to another song from the third CD of the boxset. And again, this is the CD with the previously unreleased sessions and the demos. And a couple of the tracks from the CD are from a live album that was released, though I think it might not have been terrifically distributed. And the song I want to play is called "Maybe I'm Doing It Wrong." And it's a waltz about sex not quite measuring up to what it's supposed to be.

NEWMAN: Or the individual not measuring...

GROSS: Right.

NEWMAN: Yeah, yeah, you're right. You're right.

GROSS: Well, both (laughter).

NEWMAN: Yeah.

GROSS: Insecure about his performance and about...

NEWMAN: That's right, yeah.

GROSS: ...The response that he's getting...

NEWMAN: Yeah.

GROSS: ...In himself. So many pop songs are supposed to be sung in the voice of the seducer who's bragging about how good a lover he is.

NEWMAN: Yeah.

GROSS: Did you intend this to subvert that kind of song?

NEWMAN: Yeah. And it's really a great idea, because it's a widespread thing. You know, people don't necessarily talk about it. I mean, you have no idea from knowing a person - my experiences, at least - what they're like sexually, or you can't even guess at that. That and money. You know, you can try and borrow $5 from someone you've known for 30 years, and they won't give it to you. And it's a complete unknown. And I really liked - this song is short, but I always thought it was a great idea for a song. And, you know, like, I wished I'd done more, but I couldn't think of what more to do.

GROSS: Well, let's hear it. This is "Maybe I'm Doing It Wrong."

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "MAYBE I'M DOING IT WRONG")

NEWMAN: (Singing) Maybe I'm doing it wrong. Maybe I'm doing it wrong. It just don't move me the way that it should. Maybe I'm doing it wrong. There ain't no book you can read. There ain't nobody to tell you. And I don't think I'm getting what everyone's getting. Maybe I'm doing it wrong. Sometimes I'll throw off a good one. At least, I think it is. No, I know it is. I shouldn't be thinking at all. I shouldn't be thinking at all. Maybe I'm doing it wrong. Maybe I'm doing it wrong. It just don't move me the way that it should. Maybe I'm doing it wrong.

(APPLAUSE)

GROSS: Why did you write that song as a waltz?

NEWMAN: I don't know. It just came out that way. Almost every song I've written has had words and music sort of come at the same time, but - no. Usually, the music comes a little first. So I probably was just clumping along like that, and it ended up - it just - I didn't do it for any artistic reason, though I'd be happy to take credit for any sort of Viennese reason that you'd like to give me.

GROSS: Oh, well, thanks for the invitation. I have a reason I'd like to give you.

(LAUGHTER)

NEWMAN: Yeah.

GROSS: This song is about a kind of frustration in sexuality. But the waltz has such a nice lilt, such an easy lilt, that it's a nice contrast.

NEWMAN: (Humming).

GROSS: (Laughter).

NEWMAN: It does. You know, it - (clicking fingers) mm, mm, bum, bum. Yeah, it's sort of in one. Yeah, it could be. It might be also - I loved a record called "If You Gotta Make A Fool Of Somebody." I don't know which came first, but, I mean, I wanted - maybe I wanted to write something like that. This is an instance I hear - listen to the audience where sometimes - Harry Nilsson once told me - I asked him - you know, it was a constant thing with him not performing - why he didn't perform. One time - it was mainly, I think, because he was frightened of it, I think, but I don't know. But he said once it was because he was worried it would hurt his work, that the audience reaction would be - like, throw him off 'cause he wouldn't know his good stuff. And it's a very small thing, that thing. You can isolate it as a writer. I mean, the audience will react to some things. Like, sometimes I'll throw off a good one. Like, I probably could have done better there, you know? But they laughed at it. I knew they liked it. So I left it alone.

GROSS: Now, could you ever imagine writing or singing a song in the opposite persona, the song in the voice of the great seducer, the great lover, baby, I'm so good?

NEWMAN: Only as a joke. I mean, why talk, if that's the case? Only as a joke I've probably done that. I mean, almost certainly I've done it in some of my songs, you know, bragging. I can't think of one now, but it's - "Emotional Girl" to some slight strange degree. But I know there's better. "You Can Leave Your Hat On." That guy's sort of lame, you know? And yet they take it, and it's treated as straight, you know, sex.

GROSS: I'm glad you mentioned "You Can Leave Your Hat On." That song was used in - what's the movie called? I'm just blanking out on the title. "Full Monty."

NEWMAN: "Full Monty."

GROSS: Yeah.

NEWMAN: And "9 1/2 Weeks."

GROSS: "Full Monty" was such a big art house hit. Did that revive the song and bring you in surprising royalties?

NEWMAN: The other thing was even a bigger hit.

GROSS: Oh.

NEWMAN: "9 1/2 Weeks" was such a big hit in Europe that it was a hit in - almost worldwide. So I guess that it was revived both times. Yeah.

GROSS: So you never know which old songs are going to come back at you.

NEWMAN: Yeah. And I did a TV show with Joe Cocker, and I did the thing in - let's see, what did I do it in? Key of E. And I said, what key you do it in. I figured maybe do it higher. I figured G, maybe a minor third. And he said, no, he did in C. I said C? And up there - I could sing it in - I could have sung it in C, and the band could have really rocked, you know, and you could have heard it. And he had a hit with it up there, where I was mumbling around, baby take off your - you know, I was trying to get the character right. I just didn't have any sense of - I mean, I wish I'd done it in C, to tell you the truth.

GROSS: So the song sounded different when he did it.

NEWMAN: Oh, yeah. I mean, being a sixth higher made it - you know, took you way up there, and you really belted it out, whereas mine was more furtive, furtivo.

GROSS: Right. Yours was more of the heavy breather (laughter).

NEWMAN: Yeah, but in a - sort of harmless, you know? I mean, I think some women's groups were offended, but I meant the guy to be kind of laughed at. Though as I get older, I take it more seriously, you know?

GROSS: Well, since you've mentioned "You Can Leave Your Hat On," you have your own recording of that on the new four-CD box set. So why don't we listen to that?

NEWMAN: Sure.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "YOU CAN LEAVE YOUR HAT ON")

NEWMAN: (Singing) Baby, take off your coat real slow. Baby, take off your shoes. Here, I'll take your shoes. Baby, take off your dress. Yes, yes, yes. You can leave your hat on. You can leave your hat on. You can leave your hat on.

BIANCULLI: That's Randy Newman, recorded in 1972. He spoke with Terry Gross in 1998 on the occasion of the release of a four-CD box set of his music. More after a break. This is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF RANDY NEWMAN'S "RAGTIME")

BIANCULLI: This is FRESH AIR. Let's get back to Terry's 1998 interview with Randy Newman, who spoke to her after releasing a four-CD box set of his music. Another overview of his long and impressive career, a new biography has just been published.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR BROADCAST)

GROSS: You come from a film music extended family. Your uncles were Lionel and Alfred Newman...

NEWMAN: And Emil Newman, the forgotten Newman.

GROSS: And Alfred Newman was head of music for 20th Century Fox. Film scores include "Grapes Of Wrath," "Hunchback Of Notre Dame," "Captain From Castile," "All About Eve," "Wuthering Heights." Did having them in the family prevent you from being willing to sell your soul in order to make it in Hollywood?

NEWMAN: I never had a romantic view of Hollywood. And I never had - because, you know, the actors weren't around by the time they were working on the picture. And I would see that, you know, I'd hear them talk about this director, that actor, actress, and there was never any glamour to it for me, particularly. I don't know. Maybe you sell your soul a little when you do a movie anyway - movie music, but I don't feel that way. I think I've done some of my best work writing stuff that I never would have gotten to had I not been - had not the movie dictated that I write something like that, like "The Natural." I mean, I'm not going to write heroic music like that, I don't think. Or at if I did, it would be very dissonant, I think. And I'm glad I got to it.

GROSS: Well, I thought we could hear some of your new orchestral movie music. And this is not from the box set. This is from the CD of "A Bugs Life." And you did the score for the movie. And I thought we'd play "Victory." This is a really interesting piece. I don't know if you remember them by name or not. Is that a no?

NEWMAN: No, I don't remember them.

GROSS: Well, why don't I play some of this, and then you could tell us a little bit about writing it and about how it's used in the actual movie.

NEWMAN: Sure.

(SOUNDBITE OF RANDY NEWMAN'S "VICTORY")

GROSS: Music Randy Newman composed for the film "A Bug's Life." Some of that really harkens back to classic adventure film scores.

NEWMAN: Yeah, but it's 20th century, you know? I might not have known I could do that had it not called for it. You know, it's a grasshopper chasing a - flying through the air chasing an ant. But to me, it's, oh. And that's exactly what - but it brought forth in me, some sort of, you know, like bar talk on a bad day. At least, you know, it's sort of decent 20th century music and technically difficult and unbelievably well-played by - you know, there's one crummy horn entrance kind of. But, I mean, that's all right.

GROSS: (Laughter).

NEWMAN: But those musicians had that music. Maybe we did it in an hour and a half...

GROSS: Wow.

NEWMAN: ...That one thing. And that is really difficult for everybody.

GROSS: It must be pretty exciting for you to hear played what you've only heard in your head before.

NEWMAN: Yeah, it's about the best thing I do. I like it so much that I'm willing to put up with a lot of downside to that job to do that. Like, I really liked hearing that just now. You know, listening to me saying it's more important, you know, songs, I guess, and songwriting. But, you know, I don't know how loud this is in the movie, but it's not the main thing going on. I mean, when the ant gets away is the main thing. But I like that (laughter).

GROSS: It sounds really good to me.

NEWMAN: Yeah. Me, too.

GROSS: Randy Newman, thank you very much for talking with us.

NEWMAN: Great pleasure, as always.

BIANCULLI: Randy Newman, speaking to Terry Gross in 1998. In addition to his solo albums and film scores, Randy Newman also has written a musical, "Randy Newman's Faust." In 1993, he recorded a concept album of its music with an all-star cast, including Don Henley as Faust, James Taylor as God, Bonnie Raitt as the devil's unfaithful girlfriend and Newman himself as the devil. In the opening song, "Glory Train," Randy Newman's Satan, singing to God, provides his personal perspective on it all.

(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "GLORY TRAIN")

NEWMAN: (Singing) All of the faith and prayer in the world, all of your dumb show and circuses, you know it's a lie. It'll always be a lie, the invention of an animal who knows he's going to die. Some fools in the desert with nothing else to do, so scared of the dark, they didn't know if they were coming or going, so they invented me and they invented you. And other fools will keep it all going and growing. Everybody - we're a figment of their imagination, a beautiful dream. It is true. A figment of their imagination, me and you. And you know it. Me and you.

BIANCULLI: That's Randy Newman singing as the devil in a song from his musical "Faust." Robert Hilburn's new biography of Randy Newman, called "A Few Words In Defense Of Our Country," has just been published. Coming up, Justin Chang reviews "Conclave," a new movie thriller set in the Vatican. This is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF RANDY NEWMAN'S "OPERATION PULL TOY")

DAVID BIANCULLI, HOST:

This is FRESH AIR. In the new thriller "Conclave," now playing in theaters, Ralph Fiennes plays a cardinal in the Vatican who is tasked with overseeing the election of a new pope. The movie also features Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow and Isabella Rossellini, and was directed by Edward Berger of the Oscar-winning "All Quiet On The Western Front." Our film critic, Justin Chang, has this review of "Conclave."

JUSTIN CHANG, BYLINE: In describing "Conclave," I can't improve on the words of a friend, the variety critic Guy Lodge, who suggested that this twisty piece of pope fiction should have been titled "Corpus Agatha Christi." That sums up the movie's paperback thriller appeal and its dramatic limitations. Adapted from Robert Harris' 2016 novel, "Conclave" isn't a whodunit exactly Although, it does begin with the discovery of a body. The pope has died unexpectedly in his quarters, and the Sacred College of Cardinals will now hold a conclave to determine his successor.

The conclave will be overseen by Cardinal Lawrence, played by an excellent Ralph Fiennes. Lawrence has his work cut out for him. He's having serious doubts about both his future in the church and his personal faith, and his contentious and spiteful colleagues are not doing much to restore it. Before long, the college will devolve into a cesspool of backbiting, infighting and ruthless smear campaigning - perfectly timed for this nail-biting election season, in other words.

Things start off civilly enough, as cardinals from all over the world descend on Rome for the conclave. In this scene, Lawrence greets his longtime friend and ally, Cardinal Bellini, who's favored to do well in the election. He's played by Stanley Tucci, expertly cast as a man who can be by turns caddy and serious minded.

(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "CONCLAVE")

RALPH FIENNES: (As Cardinal Lawrence) Father Bellini. Hold up.

STANLEY TUCCI: (As Cardinal Bellini) Am I the last?

FIENNES: (As Cardinal Lawrence) Not quite. How are you?

TUCCI: (As Cardinal Bellini) Oh, well, you know, fairly dreadful. Have you seen the papers? Apparently, it's already decided. It's to be me.

FIENNES: (As Cardinal Lawrence) And I happen to agree with them.

TUCCI: (As Cardinal Bellini) What if I don't want it? No sane men would want the papacy.

FIENNES: (As Cardinal Lawrence) Some of our colleagues seem to want it.

TUCCI: (As Cardinal Bellini) What if I know in my heart that I am not worthy?

FIENNES: (As Cardinal Lawrence) You are more worthy than any of us.

TUCCI: (As Cardinal Bellini) I'm not.

FIENNES: (As Cardinal Lawrence) Well, then tell your supporters not to vote for you, to pass the chalice.

TUCCI: (As Cardinal Bellini) And let it go to him? No, I could never live with myself.

CHANG: The him that Bellini can't stand is Cardinal Tedesco, played with delectable comic menace by the Italian actor Sergio Castellitto. Tedesco is the kind of staunch traditionalist who still complains that the church got rid of the Latin Mass. The more liberal-minded Bellini and Lawrence fear that he will take the church backward if he's elected. They want to see the church make progress on gay rights, multifaith unity and women in leadership, issues that, of course, bedevil Pope Francis' reign in the present day.

But for all these high-minded gestures at topicality, "Conclave" isn't really about the challenges facing Catholicism today, nor is it about the clergy's sexual abuse scandals that continue to make headlines and which the movie acknowledges in passing. The director, Edward Berger, is in it mainly for the intricate puzzle-box plotting and the relentless political backstabbing. Berger previously directed "All Quiet On The Western Front," and he stages "Conclave" as another kind of war movie, where words become weapons and even the cardinals' seating arrangements begin to resemble battle formations.

One of these men will be the next head of the church, and the options aren't terribly inspiring. John Lithgow gives a wily performance as one of the college's more popular and opportunistic members. Lucian Msamati oozes ambition as a cardinal who's vying to become the first African pope in many centuries.

"Conclave" is a noisy movie. The actors chew and chew the Vatican scenery, and Volker Bertelmann's score is as bombastic as an exorcism. I was grateful for the understated yet commanding presence of the divine Isabella Rossellini, making the most of a thin role as a nun who says little but sees everything. Equally welcome is the Mexican actor Carlos Diehz, as a humble cardinal who's led a dangerous ministry in Afghanistan. His motivations are among the movie's more intriguing mysteries.

Berger is clearly having fun ushering us into the shadowy cloistered world of the Vatican, complete with detailed recreation of the Sistine Chapel, and "Conclave" is undeniably engrossing to watch as it shuffles and reshuffles the narrative deck and serves up one juicy cardinal red herring after another.

While the story may be a parlor trick, there's nothing phony about Ralph Fiennes' performance as the movie's troubled conscience, a thoughtful man of God experiencing a genuine crisis of faith. Fiennes makes Lawrence's psychology intensely compelling, whether he's stepping in to reprimand a wayward colleague or reluctantly considering the papacy himself. Lawrence claims he doesn't have the spiritual fortitude to be pope. His attitude is basically let this chalice pass from me. But Bellini calls him out. Every cardinal harbors the ambition to be pope, he says, and has even secretly chosen the papal name by which he would like to be known.

Speaking of names, Lawrence's first name, we learn early on, is Thomas, which means that he is literally a doubting Thomas. Like everything in "Conclave," it's clever and a little too on the nose.

BIANCULLI: Justin Chang is a film critic at The New Yorker. On Monday's show, an evangelical church that grew in reaction against the religious right. They shared an egalitarian vision but became divided over some of the same issues dividing the country. We talk with Eliza Griswold about her new book. Her late father, Episcopal Bishop Frank Griswold, presided over the consecration of the first openly gay bishop. I hope you can join us.

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BIANCULLI: FRESH AIR's executive producer is Danny Miller. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham with additional engineering support by Joyce Lieberman, Julian Herzfeld and Adam Staniszewski. For Terry Gross and Tonya Mosley, I'm David Bianculli.

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