By Paul Salfen, Christine Thompson for AMFM Magazine
In the pantheon of modern film composers, few have navigated the treacherous waters—or, in this case, the fiery ashes—of blockbuster storytelling quite like Simon Franglen. The English maestro, whose resume reads like a greatest-hits compilation of pop culture milestones, has long been the secret weapon behind some of cinema’s most immersive worlds. From producing Celine Dion’s Titanic anthem “My Heart Will Go On” (snagging a Grammy for Record of the Year) to arranging strings for James Bond epics like Skyfall and Spectre, Franglen’s touch has graced four of the highest-grossing films ever and six of the best-selling albums in history. He’s collaborated with icons: Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Madonna, Barbra Streisand, Quincy Jones, and Luciano Pavarotti, to name a few. His early days? Cutting his teeth as a Synclavier whiz for Trevor Horn on tracks by Yes and Frankie Goes to Hollywood, before penning that inescapable Direct Line jingle that haunted UK airwaves.
But nothing quite compares to his deep dive into James Cameron’s Pandora. Franglen first boarded the Avatar ship as a producer on the original 2009 film, earning Golden Globe and Grammy nods for its theme song. He stepped into the composer’s chair full-time after the passing of his mentor, James Horner, inheriting the sonic legacy for Avatar: The Way of Water. Now, with Avatar: Fire and Ash igniting theaters worldwide, Franglen is pushing the boundaries even further, blending orchestral grandeur with otherworldly invention. In a candid Zoom chat with AMFM Magazine—complete with virtual Christmas trees and minor tech glitches—Franglen pulled back the curtain on the Herculean effort of scoring Cameron’s latest opus, his career Hail Marys, and why sometimes the “wrong” notes are the right ones.
The conversation kicked off amid the buzz of Fire and Ash‘s release, a film that’s already being hailed as a visual and auditory feast. Franglen, beaming from his setup, reflected on the sheer scale of the project. “We’re in the middle of the war, and we’ll see if we win the war,” he quipped, alluding to the epic battles unfolding on Pandora. Having dedicated years to the score, he finally experienced it with a full audience. “I got to see it with an audience for the first time two days ago… I’m incredibly proud of this. It has been, without doubt, the most complex project I’ve ever worked on.”
Clocking in at over three hours, Fire and Ash demanded an unprecedented musical marathon from Franglen—three hours, four minutes, and 16 seconds of score, to be precise, spanning 1,900-plus pages of music. That’s not counting the discarded cues littering his cutting-room floor. “It dwarfs everything I’ve ever done before by a factor of two,” he said, a nod to his history with behemoths like Titanic and Seven. Yet, despite the enormity, Franglen keeps his operation lean. “I have a very small music team,” he explained. “Myself, my two lead arrangers Steven Doar and Graham Foote—who’ve been with me for a decade—my music editors Darren Hall and Joey Rand, and my assistant Harry Kim. That’s it.” No sprawling crews here; Franglen prefers hands-on control, bringing in extra orchestrators only when the crunch hits.
What sets Avatar: Fire and Ash apart sonically? For starters, Franglen’s immersion in the dubbing process, working shoulder-to-shoulder with mixers like Simon Rhodes and Mike Hedges. “I was on the dub stage… hand in hand with the dubbing mixer,” he recounted. The result? A more expansive, immersive soundscape. “I wanted a more immersive score this time. We’ve gone wider, more into the cinema. If you get a chance to listen to the Dolby Atmos mixes… I’m really proud of these mixes. They sound astonishing.”
Franglen’s path to Pandora wasn’t a straight shot. His musical awakening? “In terms of cinema and film music, the Bond films,” he said, crediting John Barry as his first big break. “The first film composer I worked with was John Barry… on the soundtrack to Dances with Wolves, and then we became very good friends.” From there, it snowballed: gigs with Alan Silvestri, Howard Shore (Seven), and eventually Horner on Titanic. “My instrument is the studio,” Franglen mused. “I play studio… it’s completely organic for me.” It’s this fluidity that turned him from session musician to go-to collaborator, echoing legends like John Williams (once Henry Mancini’s pianist) or Hans Zimmer (a synth sessioneer turned titan).
For aspiring composers eyeing Franglen’s throne, his advice is brutally pragmatic. “You have to stay employed. It doesn’t matter what you do—I’ve done kids’ TV, dog food commercials.” Survive the first decade, he urges, then hone in. “Do one thing well,” he recalled sage words from engineer Steve Lipson. And find your voice: “Why would I want to hire somebody who already sounds like somebody else? I want to hire somebody who sounds like themselves.” In masterclasses worldwide, he’s seen it play out—technical perfection often pales against raw uniqueness. “I can copy Horner badly… but I can do Simon Franglen really well.”
Then there’s the “Hail Mary” moment, a term borrowed from co-host Drew Pearson’s legendary Cowboys catch. Franglen’s? Teetering on bankruptcy, he gambled on a move to L.A. “It was all going to go like it was going to be a total disaster.” Then, a out-of-nowhere film offer saved the day. “You have to have faith in yourself,” he said. Sometimes that means betting big: pouring personal funds into a score to make it shine.
Staying inspired amid creative ruts? “I look for the wrong notes. All the right notes are easy; it’s the wrong notes that are hard.” If things feel too comfy, he shakes it up—detuning a guitar string, shifting keys from F to B minor. “You do something to change everything up… from there often comes something that is fresh.”
Fire and Ash pushed Franglen into inventor mode, designing real instruments for Pandora’s inhabitants. Take the Windtraders’ jig: “I designed instruments because in Avatar, we don’t make things up.” Sketching concepts using ship rigging for strings and sail material for drum skins, he collaborated with art and props teams to 3D-print playable versions. “We have a six-foot-long string instrument that can be played on set… and I use them in the score as well.” It’s all part of Cameron’s insistence on authenticity: real performances, real musicians—215 of them, no less. “This had to be about real music with real musicians.”
As the Avatar saga marches on—Franglen teases mind-blowing shifts for parts four and five—he’s proud of expanding Pandora’s palette. “If this film makes enough money, where we’re going to go with Avatar four and five is going to blow people’s minds… Four is probably my favorite, and it is so different.” For now, Fire and Ash stands as a testament to his evolution, a score that’s as volcanic and transformative as the title suggests.
In a world of synthetic sounds and AI shortcuts, Franglen remains a purist, soul intact. “It should always have your soul in there somewhere.” As Pandora evolves, so does its sound—and with Franglen at the helm, the journey promises to be symphonic.
Paul Salfen is Managing Editor of AMFM Magazine, host of The Drew Pearson Show, and a prolific interviewer. Christine Thompson is Editor-in-Chief, overseeing the publication’s vision and content.
