Pop music and films are like peanut butter and chocolate – well, maybe not quite. That implies some sort of undeniable cosmic, fated force drawing the two together like soulmates. Pop music and films are more like peanut butter and banana – still pretty damn good. There’s something about the perfect pop song synchronized beautifully with a key moment or epic montage that can prove iconic. Stealer’s Wheel will never sound the same after Quentin Tarantino got his hands on “Stuck in the Middle With You.”
But what about when several filmmakers grasp on to the same catchy ditty? What songs have been so overused that they border on cliché? Some of these songs are used so repeatedly that they become shorthand for what the scene in the movie is supposed to encapsulate. It’s a shame, as many of these songs were used brilliantly the first time, or even the first few times. After awhile, though, these songs are so overused that they are almost expected; they can’t even be used without irony. They are parodied so often that the parody itself becomes a cliché, and that parody gets parodied, and that parody gets parodied and so forth in an ever-rambling hall of postmodern mirrors. In effect, the song gets ruined. Or is in great risk of being ruined.
Thus, without further rambling, I present my list of 10 songs I think are overused in film and television. The artistic value of these songs is extinct, or else greatly endangered, which is regrettable as most of these are pretty kick-ass tunes:
10. The Clash – “London Calling”
As seen in: What a Girl Wants (2003), Die Another Day (2002), Billy Elliot (2000), Friends (1998).
How endangered? On par with the whales. Yeah, they’re endangered, but they’re still so awesome, majestic, and demanding of respect that it’s hard to imagine the world without this juggernaut of… er, awesomeness. How does the greatest punk band of the 70s become equated with the lowest point of Colin Firth’s career? Easy. When “London Calling” somehow because the go-to song for blasting over the establishing shots of London as the annoying American protagonist crosses the Pond. It quickly eclipsed “Rule Brittania” once that got the parody death-knell via Austin Powers, and a new generation of uninspired filmmakers grasped in vain for that hipster edge.
Honourable mention: “Should I Stay or Should I Go”
9. Jimi Hendrix – “All Along the Watchtower”
As seen in: Watchmen (2009), Battlestar Gallactica (2009), Withnail & I (1987), Rush (1991)
How endangered? As long as filmmakers continue to use “All Along the Watchtower” respectfully (Does anything beat the way it was used in BSG? Although one would argue… no, I won’t go there.), this one should manage to pull through, kinda like a tiger. Hendix is equated with instant cool, and this tune is a smoky motif of the dark frontier of the counter-culture. Where is there to go next? The mystery is instantaneous but recognizable, and as long as this one manages to squeak through another ten years without gracing too many soundtracks, its beauty should remain intact.
Honourable mentions: “Foxy Lady,” “Voodoo Childe,” “Purple Haze”
8. Elton John – “Rocket Man” (suggested by Megan Maliszewski)
As seen in: Cold Case (2005), The Astronaut Farmer (2006), Life on Mars (2007), Nip/Tuck (2003), Six Feet Under (2003), K-PAX (2001), The Rock (1996)
How endangered? Like William Shatner’s career. Which isn’t that endangered, if we’re talking about pure survival. “Rocket Man” will be around awhile, but our respect for it? Hm, that’s another story. So, someone’s ascending into space/about to do something really epic or stupid - and you need a song to underscore it. You have two options, David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” or Elton John’s “Rocket Man.” Which one do you pick? “Space Oddity” is likely to scare the children, so here’s your answer, “Rocket Man.” Yes, O great song beloved of Shatner, “Rocket Man.”
Honourable mentions: “Benny and the Jets,” “Tiny Dancer,” “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart”
7.George Thorogood – ”Bad to the Bone” (suggested by Shannon Grant)
As seen in: Beverly Hills Chihuahua (2008), Las Vegas (2005), Joe Dirt (2001), 3000 Miles to Graceland (2001), The Parent Trap (1998), Problem Child (1990) AND the sequel (1991)
How endangered? Like an elephant. Whenever you see a giant herd of elephants stampeding towards you, it’s natural to get a little afraid (I’m assuming, as I’ve never actually had the pleasure of seeing a giant herd of elephants stampeding towards me. One can imagine, though.). I suppose this fear is what the original intent of “Bad to the Bone” was, but its application towards everyone from children to Chihuahuas to David Spade really only dregs up some long-lost semblance of fear that isn’t really recognisable as anything remotely frightening. Just large and lazy.
Honourable mention: Nothing as soul-suckingly overused as “Bad to the Bone.”
6. Journey – “Don’t Stop Believin’” (suggested by Scott Baitz)
As seen in: Glee (2009), Bedtime Stories (2008), Scrubs (2003), The Comebacks (2007), The Sopranos (2007), Monster (2003)
How endangered? A song as stereotypically uplifting as “Don’t Stop Believin’” will always have a soft, mushy, might-be-going-off part in people’s hearts. Like the Panda bear, its black and white view of sentimentality will keep you emotionally hooked, which is quite a feat for something that lacks any real depth. You can keep believing, but that doesn’t really mean anything. You’ll just feel like it does.
Honourable mention: “Open Arms”
5. Steppenwolf – “Born to be Wild” (suggested by Megan Maliszewski)
As seen in: Recess: School’s Out (2001), Connie and Carla (2004), My Name is Earl (2005), Herbie Fully Loaded (2005), Borat (2006), Dudley Do-Right (1999), Six Feet Under (1999), Home Improvement (1991), Knight Rider (1982), Easy Rider (1969)
How endangered? As the natural environment of the late-sixties rebel slowly erodes and is replaced with the more tepid waters of the snivelling pre-schooler (i.e. from Easy Rider to Rugrats in several easy steps), Steppenwolf’s classic will have lost all its bite and will only live on in captivity… like the polar bears. Cue all the “born to be mild” puns.
Honourable mention: “Magic Carpet Ride”
4. Alice Cooper – “School’s Out”
As seen in: Shriek If You Know What I Did Last Friday the Thirteenth (2000), The Faculty (1998), Scream (1996), Reality Bites (1994), Dazed and Confused (1993), The Simpsons (the Kamp Krusty episode!) (1992), Rock ‘n’ Roll High School (1979)
How endangered? Every kid – at least the ones I knew – sang this song as they skipped home on the last day of school. Even at the age of occasionally wetting the bed we knew to sing it with a sense of irony. “School’s Out” is nothing but a stab in the back. School’s never out forever, children. Only for the summer (as Alice reminds up in his Staples commercial). Something in the bitter growl of Alice’s voice reminds us of this inevitability; that joy is fleeting. With the song’s inherent darkness, it became perfectly synched to wide shots of jaded youth everywhere. This “inherent darkness” of course inevitably meant cheesier and cheesier horror flicks before crashing and burning with pure spoof. “School’s Out” is a California Condor, an endangered vulture: full of ancient mystique but something of a ridiculous horror cliché.
Honourable mention: “No More Mr. Nice Guy”
3. 2 Unlimited – “Get Ready for This” (suggested by Andrew Brown)
As seen in: Bride Wars (2009), The Office (2006), How to Eat Fried Worms (2006), South Park (2004), Bedazzled (2000), Bring It On (2000), Flubber (1997), Friends (1996), Space Jam (1996)
How endangered? “Y’all ready for this?!” Not quite. Well, I was ready, but then I got bored and took a nap. This song doesn’t quite keep me awake and pumped up like it used to. Perhaps that’s due to it being used – repeatedly – as a the national anthem of Team Underdog as they prepare themselves for the almighty death-or-glory battle of a lifetime. We were interested, but now we don’t care because it’s just so passé. Kinda like the bison: a historical artefact that somehow is still kicking around like an unmatched sock in the laundry basket.(“What do you mean they’re not extinct yet?”)
Honourable mention: “Twilight Zone”
2. Marvin Gaye – “Let’s Get It On” (suggested by Jagoda Janik)
As seen in: Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me (1999), High Fidelity (2000), Scrubs (2003), Something’s Gotta Give (2003), Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason (2004), Crank (2006), Blades of Glory (2007), and more.
How endangered? Like the Baiji dolphin, assumed extinct. Obscure reference, I know, but fitting. The baiji dolphin – a victim of industrialisation along the Yangtze River – has not been seen for years, much how any ounce of artistry this song once had has been quashed by the reams of lazy filmmakers who couldn’t find anything more original. Its use in Austin Powers is the perfect example of something so clichéd that all irony has been sapped out of it. It’s just… dead. Even if we’re reluctant to admit it.
Honourable mentions: “Sexual Healing,” “Heard it Through the Grapevine,” “What’s Going On?” and pretty much every song Marvin Gaye ever recorded.
1. Carl Douglas – “Kung Fu Fighting” (suggested by Megan Maliszewski)
As seen in: Kung Fu Panda (2008), Rush Hour 3 (2007), My Name is Earl (2006), Epic Movie (2007), I’m Gonna Git You Sucka (1988), That 70s Show (1999), Beverly Hills Ninja (1997), Bowfinger (1998), Daddy Day Care (2003)… so pretty much every comedy about ninjas ever… all three of them.
How endangered? Dinosaurs. And don’t give me this “dinosaurs are still around, they evolved into birds” crap (technically, you are correct, I know), but unless “Kung Fu Fighting” evolves into…. wow, there’s nothing I can think of that I can evolve into that will somehow be new and original. Nothing.
Honourable mentions: Did he have any other songs? That has to be the lowest blow of them all, your only hit is a now a cliché. I guess that must be expected when you write a catchy disco-type number about ninjas.
P.S. Assignment: Pirates are way cooler than ninjas and everyone knows it. Discuss.
Other Honourable Mentions: Green Day – Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) (suggested by Alana Peters), Queen (feat. David Bowie) – “Under Pressure” (suggested by Becca Strom), Simon and Garfunkel – “The Sound of Silence,” James Brown – “I Got You (I Feel Good),” The Specials – “Ghost Town”
Thank you great people of the interwebs for your suggestions! There are countless songs that have been overused by Hollywood. What are some more?
The Box starts with an intriguing premise: a happily married couple (Cameron Diaz and James Marsden) find a box left on their front step. Inside is a button, which, if they press, they will receive one million dollars. The catch: someone, somewhere, who they do not know, will die. It’s an intriguing question, which instantly forces you to internally ask yourself, “Would I push the button?”
I watched Eat Drink Man Woman (1994) the other day (for the first time, which is strange since I’m such a fan of Ang Lee). The story of a widowed father and his three grown-up daughters living under one roof manages to walk that ever-so-thin tight rope of sweet and heartfelt without falling into the pit of sentimentality. Chu, the patriarch and professional chef, is slowly watching his daughters grow independent. As they find themselves through religion, career, and love, Chu continues to make the family’s traditional Sunday meal: a huge, multi-course array of culinary masterpieces, which provides a thematic centre pin for the story. As one of the characters notes, families communicate in different ways, and this family communicates with food. “Eat, drink, man, woman,” says Chu, “Basic human desires. Can’t avoid them.” The film will also make you very, very hungry. Just as you should never go grocery shopping on an empty stomach, be warned when you start this flick: your chances of running out to the nearest takeaway increase exponentially the further into the film you go.




Ah, The Lord of the Rings. The epic to end all epics. Cinema experienced a resurgence in the epic genre during the nineties and early noughties, which really culminated in LOTR. Can you think of anything more epic or more recent? Nothing can top it.
Not the traditional leading hero, (that honour would go to Orlando “Legolas” Bloom) Captain Jack is indeed the heart and soul of the Pirates movies, and you’ll be hard-pressed to find anyone who disagrees with you. Why else would Disney being flogging this dead horse with
If you think these are two characters, you clearly didn’t watch the movie hard enough. In the relationship/conflict between the Narrator and Tyler Durden, we see the wonderful dichotomy between “good” guy and “bad” guy that exists in every antihero played out in the most literal sense. In the anarchy and violence espoused by Tyler Durden we see a dangerous violence void of humanity – made frightening by an extreme lack of regard for other people and no concern for the consequences. He is balanced by the Narrator, who questions Durden; who cannot escape his own morality despite his disillusionment with the world around him. The cognitive dissonance between the two personifications of this character pulls us in but frightens us: you identify with his disillusionment but fear his instability. At what point does a freedom fighter become a terrorist?
An antihero in the most Miltonic sense, Bateman is an actual serial killer – but not even a killer with a misguided sense of morality like, say, Dexter Morgan. Bateman is remorseless and chilling. What makes a character like Patrick Bateman resonate so well, and prove so cultish, is the pure essence of everything he personifies. With the wonderful hindsight we now enjoy, what self-respecting individual these days is not repulsed by the ego-driven, Reagonomics, “greed is good” ethos of the 1980s? The antihero of Brett Easton Ellis’s novel (and Mary Harron’s film) should satisfy conservatives and liberals alike as he literally takes a sharp knife to everything yuppie.
Scarlett O’Hara has stood out for seventy years as one of the most interesting characters – female or not – Hollywood has ever produced. Charming, wealthy, resourceful but rich, spoiled, selfish and vain, Scarlett may have her family’s best interests at heart, but still she steals her sister’s man, and steps on many others in her pursuit of her goals. The fact that she stands as the sole woman on this list, argues three points: 1. The lack of good female roles in Hollywood, 2. Very few anti-heroes are women, and thus 3. Anti-heroes are indeed the most enduring characters.
Alex is really only one step shy of Patrick Bateman in terms of treachery, and that’s only really because his body count is lower. Let’s face it, Alex is only really an antihero because he’s the protagonist, but in essence, he’s just an out-and-out villain. Robbery, rape, Beethoven – just a usual day’s galavanting. He’s frightening in the same way Bateman is: he’s a psychopath. Remorseless and cruel, he finds sheer delight in torture and he knows full well just what a horrible human being he is. But what is it that about him that people connect with? Why do you always see at least one person dressed as Alex every Halloween? How do we feel sympathy for someone like this when he is cured of his violence? Is it the irony in the forced violence of the cure? Is there something about Alex – and this kind of antihero – that possesses a kind of freedom we can never have?
The tortured vigilante of Scorsese’s Palme D’Or winner presents an interesting moral dilemma, as most vigilantes not riding in a van with Mr. T tend to do. Bickle fits all the aforementioned tropes of an antihero: he feels he is trying to do good in a corrupt world; yet, he slowly becomes corrupted during his quest; and he is iconic of post-Vietnam disenchantment. His protection of a teenage prostitute is honourable…and his killing spree…? Well, that’s a little more ambiguous, isn’t it? Is it honourable because of Bickle’s rationalization of it, or is it a commentary on society that we can somehow find honour in murder?
There are very few falls from grace as iconic as Michael Corleone’s. Perhaps a very strong part of what makes The Godfather Part II such a compelling sequel (the only one ever to win the Oscar for Best Picture) is that we see Corleone fully transitioned from hero to antihero. Like the true slowly corrupted good guy, he becomes what he was so originally set against: an execution-ordering mafia don. From the kiss of death for his own brother to watching his daughter killed in front of his eyes, it’s pretty clear: crime doesn’t pay.
I’ve always loved Michael Keaton. My childhood crush on Batman not withstanding, he’s always been an excellent character actor and Beetlejuice is the pinnacle of his career – there’s simply no more to it. I firmly believe that this character is the reason for Tim Burton’s career: it was the surprising success of Beetlejuice that gave Burton Batman and everything that followed. Beetlejuice is a little like Jack Sparrow, only you’re pretty sure he’s a bad dude. He frequents brothels, tries to marry an underage girl, and is generally tricksy and mischievous… and charming as hell, despite the creepy teeth. Say his name three times. Go on, I dare you.
It’s going to be interesting to see how time handles Paul Thomas Anderson’s epic. Its literary quality far outstrips its potential for a cult following, but every character Daniel Day-Lewis touches proves iconic. Daniel Plainview is the essence of There Will Be Blood, and any lesser actor could not have brought the required charm, sensibility, or deep-seeded cold-hearted ambition together in a way that was anything but a retread of the classic ambition-leads-to-downfall story arch. Anderson and Day-Lewis create a character that so fantastically blends together a million different themes and methods that, rather than being hit over the head with moralising, you get a pure, instinctive sense of the many things a man like Plainview makes you feel: fear, disgust – yet acceptance. An antihero par excellance, Daniel Plainview works on so many levels. He is far more charming than Michael Corleone or Patrick Bateman, but it’s this charm that makes you simultaneously admire and despise him. You want to trust him so badly, but have that strange nagging that you shouldn’t. He is so wonderfully realized but we’re never entirely sure what makes him tick or why.
Not only did Welles’s masterpiece change the face of film for every other reason in the book, but it also presented us with one of the first truly great antiheroes. Modelled not-so-subtly on William Randolph Hearst, Citizen Kane follows the life of Charles Foster Kane from financially lacking child to billionaire a- -hole. We see his career pass from strident idealism to selfish greed; moving from kindness and compassion to cruelty and loneliness. His dying word of “Rosebud” frames the story, as we seek to understand its meaning over the course of his life. Kane’s professional ascent mirrors his personal descent, as we learn the golden truth: his dying thought was one of nostalgia and regret for his youth, as simple, loving, and poverty-stricken as it was. Titling his film “citizen” Kane, Welles seems to strike at that deepest chord of the antihero: it could be any one of us.




















