Music editor Yuri Gorbachow has been a veritable mainstay in the music editing industry since the early 1990s. During that time, he has worked on hit television series such as The Handmaid’s Tale and Vikings. He puts this extraordinary success down to his unique creative process, which sets him apart from others in the field and allows him to develop strong creative partnerships with composers. He recently completed work on the production of the third season of Vikings: Valhalla and kindly provided us with the chance to delve into the twists and turns that fans can look forward to. 

Zita Short had the opportunity to sit down with Gorbachow and discuss his lengthy and storied career in the music editing field. 

Zita Short: For the average layman, the music editing discipline appears somewhat mysterious and unknowable. Despite the fact that it plays a hugely significant role in weaving together music and visual content, those outside of the film industry may only have a faint notion of what the job entails. Would you mind walking me through the role that music editors play in the creative process? 

Yuri Gorbachow: Of course. I I like to break the music editing process down into two categories. Number one is working with the composer on the front end and that involves the music, spotting sessions, making some detailed notes and then being able to provide click tracks. Although that doesn’t happen very much anymore, building record sessions in advance and also attending the scoring stage and making sure that things stay in sync that that had been planned. 

This is all kind of the front end work and I’d say that a lot of it is being absorbed now by other departments. For example, scoring is now its own little module and composers rarely attend their own scoring sessions. They’ll sit in with some kind of streaming system but many of them get very confident and they can just let the live music get recorded. So, in a way,  the sessions are already built. They can be built by somebody else. I certainly haven’t attended a live scoring date in a long time. That front end is essentially making sure we get a good idea of what has to happen and then being able to make very meticulous notes. As well as giving the composer a good guide to what it is that they need to do.

So, the second part I call working with the composer on the back end. That is once they’ve written the music; they’ll send what would be called a first draft to me. Then from there I can make presentations, we can get revised notes, we can work on the revisions. The composer delivers that to me. I get it off to the music stage, right to the mix stage. There’s lots of revisions that happen on the dub stage, so I’ll handle that. And then there’s versioning. What else? Queue sheets, deliverables. There’s also building a library because in television series work, we want to make sure we get to use a queue over again, right?

We don’t want to overuse it, but we certainly want it available, especially when it’s in the memory of people like the directors, exec producers who’ve heard it. So I’ll make sure that it’s properly described so we can find it very quickly. Who knows? It might be the perfect piece of music to use down an episode or two.

Zita Short: How does one break into the music editing industry? Was it difficult to get your start in a highly competitive field? 

Yuri Gorbachow: I don’t think it was that competitive when I started. It’s been a while. I was an assistant engineer at a music studio and we were going through an economic downturn and the owner decided we better find something else to do and they broke into a little bit of audio post. So I was working on a particular TV series. I was just an assistant and my colleague was actually doing the session. He was working with a composer who had written 150 pieces of music out to commercial. 

So the job was to lay up the music onto the multi-track system and prepare the music so that it fit the visuals. So essentially we were working with quarter inch tape. We would lay it up on our machine and trip it through the console and on to tape. Then we would just repeat creatively and the show would be finished and usually we could do it in one day. So by 4PM we had clients come in, they’d review the music and say “OK, let’s change this cue,” or “is this all good?” and we would go to the mix on that. 

For me, my client and my colleague were working together on that every Friday morning. One Friday morning, my colleague’s wife went into labor and she was off to hospital and so was so was Frank (colleague). So the client, the composer, had said “listen, I don’t want to lose the day. I’ve watched Yuri work, I see him prepare the sessions, he lays in the opening and closing credits and he and he gets ready for the session. I’d be willing to work with him for this day.” So I got the call to to sit in the chair and to lay up the music. It was the same thing, just trip it in from the quarter inch tapes and we did a good enough job done in just the same amount of time. 

I loved it and that was kind of the beginning of the end of my assistant days. So Fridays I was a music editor, Tuesday I became a music editor and then Monday, Wednesday and Thursday I was an assistant. I kept the place nice and tidy and made sure everything worked and that type of stuff. So that’s how I got into it. I think it’s based around need and any post-production shop that’s dealing with editing and mixing knows that they have to do dialogue work and sound effects and foley and all of this requires editing. 

So it’s not unusual that the music would need to be edited as well and so you should have someone on staff. So either that can happen as you hire someone on staff or you work with a mentor-protege model and that way you can work with a mentor who has their own business. I’ve been in business, self-employed, since 1992, so that’s kind of what I do. I go after music editing jobs. People know me as a music editor and they would hire me as a music editor to do that which needs to be done.

Zita Short: Do you feel as though the industry has gone through dramatic changes over the past few decades? 

Yuri Gorbachow: You know, in the mid-1980s we were still in Sprockets, television was still being done with Magstock Magfilm and it was cut with a razor blade. In the mid-1980s towards the 1990s, there was a kind of tape lock phenomenon where we had simple time codes and we were striping these multi track tapes. We were basically borrowing from the music industry. What they would use normally to make albums with were able to use in order to stripe the time code, lock it to videotape and then run with with tape lock. So it was a bit of a hybrid situation and then that was kind of in the early 2000s that Pro Tools became robust. Computing power became a little bit more in time and we’ve been working with Pro Tools as a mixing medium, as a playback editing medium, since probably the mid-2000s. 

If I have a beautiful time compressor expander, right to be able to manipulate music, a good reverb unit…all of these things are just top notch now. It’s a joy to watch and in some ways it makes it a little easier but then there are more little things to be taken care of. So it’s a fair amount of work but it’s still quite a compelling career to be in. I love the puzzle of music editing and I love it when some of these things that really aren’t supposed to happen, or at least they didn’t happen back in the day, are now happening. I’m just so happy to solve them.

Zita Short: As part of the post-production process, you also mix audio in your studio. Can you provide us with any insight into the sort of work environment that exists within the studio and the problems that typically arise when you go through the mixing process? 

Yuri Gorbachow: So…the mixing process. I don’t know about other music editors, but I used to, you know, work in that facility. I started from the back and worked my way up. So I was an assistant engineer. I was doing restripes from what were called laybacks. Then I found myself in the assistant mix chair and then worked my way back into editing the music. I have been a re-recording mixer and was for a good decade. I still jump into the chair whenever possible and I don’t know if that helped in this particular situation. 

In music editorial, with the composers that I work with, they’ll send me what I consider to be their first draft. This happens about a week before the dub. My job is to get it prepared for presentation. What do we do with this music? Well, we have to send it out and see what people think. So what I do is I take a couple of hours and I mix it. I work with the dialogues, make sure every word can be heard, get some of the sound effects out of the way, make sure the music is just coming in beautifully and leaving. Then I send it out for a presentation. What I have found is that the fewer revision notes that come in, the better. With an unpolished first mix you might not get a lot of feedback. With asolid mix it’s like a little temporary mix. It’s a final mix but for a very small group of people. If the cue truly needs to be revised, those notes will be focused on that. I I love the idea of having less revised notes. The composers love it. They then do the revisions and they send me that second draft, which I can then take to the dubbing stage.

Zita Short: One also imagines that this is a highly collaborative role that requires a lot of give-and-take on the part of the music editor. You’ve worked with several notable composers, including Trevor Morris and Adam Taylor. How have those creative partnerships developed and evolved over the years? 

Yuri Gorbachow: Trevor and I have worked together for going on 17 years now. At first it was kind of like I was assigned to him. That’s kind of how it works. I don’t normally work for composers. I’m hired by the production company to represent their editorial needs. So when I’m assigned to a composer we get together and we just look at what it is that we need to do. Trevor and I just knew what needed to be done in 2006. The show came along and he was able to drop off the queues. I did what I needed to do, which was to get notes to him, and we kind of sorted things out. We were able to get a bigger workflow.

First there was The Tudors and then came The Borgias, we also had a little ATV series called Condor, which is basically a second season. Then we ended up doing Vikings and then, 9 years later, Vikings: Valhalla. It’s been such a great gig and I’m sorry to see it come to an end. That working relationship was kind of based on mutual respect. We knew what needed to be done. I could sit back when Trevor needed to collaborate with the executives. That’s always a key path between them. I don’t interject if I don’t have to. So  with Trevor it’s always been fun and sort of a perfunctory role. We get it done and we can enjoy the success. 

Working with Adam was a little bit different. I met him in 2015 when I was assigned to work with him for The Handmaid’s Tale and Adam is an incredibly prolific composer. He had worked on a number of different projects but Handmaid’s Tale was kind of his first major TV series. Although he knew what he had to do musically to write the score, I think he was a little nervous when it came time to tackle the workflow of a fast-paced environment. TV runs pretty fast. I kind of realized what I needed to do. I had to drop into that sort of educational role and be able to walk him through it patiently. He’s been awesome and he’s such a great composer. It’s a fairly straightforward process and we also know what to do when things change because that’s always a possibility. 

Zita Short: You’re also very concerned with the issue of representing the composer’s best interests at the dub stage. Why do music editors come up against obstacles when attempting to achieve this goal?

Yuri Gorbachow: I’m there to represent them musically on the stage and I know that the job can be  very difficult. That’s the puzzle that I love so much, you know. I can’t wait to help fix it. It’s a natural order evolution of the editing process and certain needs then arise. We need to shorten this cue or shorten a number of cues, maybe we need a cue that we didn’t mention beforehand. I’m happy to represent the composer’s best interest because if any of these things truly need to be done they need to be done with care. I certainly like to bring that to the table.

Zita Short: I also wanted to inquire about the significance of unlocking picture cuts within the music editing community. How do music editors typically respond to unlocking a picture cut?

Yuri Gorbachow: It’s the goal we all want, right. We’re all trying to achieve this locked picture. In the 1980s and 1990s it was very difficult to unlock the picture. If you unlocked it, there was a significant  price to pay. You probably had to start the editing process over again. It was very difficult to salvage the work that was done. So traditionally we like to wait until we have a locked picture and once we do then we can do all our work. If we’re not locking the picture in time then we have less time to do our work. I don’t mind making a few little nips and tucks. I think it’s now become part of the process. The director or the executive producer can achieve the perfection they were looking for instead of having to let go of that dream. Now they can say that they need to make a small change and that request can be satisfied. 

When a picture is about to become unlocked, I still get a little nervous. I imagine myself like a tennis player about to receive a serve. You sort of crouch down low and prepare to return an ace. It’s just a sort of perfunctory or unnecessary role that needs to happen. So there’ll be a few little tweaks and we can respond to that and musically it’s something that I would do. It happens during the mix. Sometimes it can happen even a little bit later where we’re finished with the mix. A little change will be requested and I think that’s perfectly valid in this day and age. 

Zita Short: Anyone who has ever seen a making-of documentary about the editing process will be familiar with the concept of temp music. Does it complicate the music editing process somewhat when the director gets too attached to the temp music that they have employed? 

Yuri Gorbachow: I like to use the term tempitis. It afflicts many of us. I think of it as a good role model. I think it’s a really great way to communicate musical ideas. You can bring in a piece of music that you like and use it as a role model of sorts. We can use a piece of source music, right? We can use a hit from the radio or we can use scores from other movies and just see how things are unfolding. So the problem with temp is that it sort of starts to sit in the track and it’s heard over and over and over again and subconsciously it becomes sort of part of it. You miss it when it’s taken away and when it comes time to do the music it can be a bit of a challenge. 

I think it’s a little bit problematic for a director to tell a composer that they love literally all of the temp music when it might be worth millions in production dollars. If the composer has limited resources available to them and the temp music was produced by the London Symphony Orchestra, it’s just not a fair comparison. I often get brought on just to select temp music and I try to use it as a jumping off point for the composer. It doesn’t have to be limiting and it can spark really important conversations. 

People also overlook the fact that temp hate also exists. Sometimes everyone hates the piece of music that has been put in there. No one ever really swaps it out but it can similarly inspire discussions about what it is specifically that we hate about this piece of music. These notes can be given to the composer and they can keep them in mind when crafting original compositions. So that’s kind of my observation after decades of music editing. Temp is wonderful and it should be loved but legally you have to move on from it. The project is better for it.

Zita Short: Looking ahead to the future, we eagerly anticipate the release of the third season of Vikings: Valhalla in early-2024. Can you offer the fans any teasers for the new season?

Yuri Gorbachow: I’ve been sitting on this since June. I’m looking forward to watching it, too. It’s not that much longer now but anyone who’s come to love the Vikings saga likes it because of the stories, the characters. In this upcoming third season there will be more of that beautiful storytelling. We don’t have that much longer to wait and I’m looking forward to it, as well. 

MR. FOX

They say all foxes are slightly allergic to linoleum, but it’s cool to the paw – try it. They say my tail needs to be dry cleaned twice a month, but now it’s fully detachable – see? They say our tree may never grow back, but one day, something will. Yes, these crackles are made of synthetic goose and these giblets come from artificial squab and even these apples look fake – but at least they’ve got stars on them. I guess my point is, we’ll eat tonight, and we’ll eat together. And even in this not particularly flattering light, you are without a doubt the five and a half most wonderful wild animals I’ve ever met in my life. So let’s raise our boxes – to our survival.

Acceptance is a difficult thing for humans (or members of the canine species) to grasp. We barely accept each other, let alone ourselves, but we can often get close to it. We can see the other side of our grief and sometimes we reach a catharsis, which is just one step closer to acceptance. It’s difficult to get there, though. No matter where you start in the process, no matter how long you stay angry, or you bargain, or deny, or wallow in your grief, acceptance is where you have to end up. It isn’t always the end of a film though, especially not in the world of Wes Anderson.

Yes, there are those easy endings. Almost all of Anderson’s films pre-2012 have the same basic ending. There is often a pop song playing over a slow motion sequence. 

Bottle Rocket ends at the prison with Dignan (Owen Wilson) slowly walking away and accepting that his sacrifice allows Anthony (Luke Wilson) and Bob (Robert Musgrave) to find some semblance of happiness. 

Rushmore ends at the wrap party for Max’s (Jason Schwartzman) latest masterpiece of a play with Max apologizing in his own way and accepting that his life doesn’t need to be a lie for it to be fulfilling. 

For The Royal Tenenbaums, the Tenenbaum extended family gather at Royal’s grave for a somber reflection showing  that they actually liked Royal at the end because he finally accepted that he wasn’t a good father and tried to make up for it in genuine ways rather than with lip service. 

The crew of the Belafonte join Steve Zissou (Bill Murray), who has overcome his grief, as they take a quick walk from the theater to the boat at the end of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. 

The Whitman brothers release their metaphorical and literal baggage as they run for their train at the end of The Darjeeling LImited. 

The extended Fox clan have their “little dance” in the aisles of the supermarket at the end of The Fantastic Mr. Fox.

The films post 2012 have more complicated, but no less satisfying endings. 

Sam (Jared Gilman) and Suzy (Kara Hayward) live on the same island and get to see one another, with some guarded supervision, at the end of Moonrise Kingdom. 

Each of the timelines of The Grand Budapest Hotel end in turn with M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes) executed off screen, Mr. Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham) finishing his story, the writer (Tom Wilkinson) concluding his findings, and the student (Jella Niemann) finishing her book on the bench. 

Each group and individual dog alike in Isle of Dogs gets a short wrap up scene, most contentedly living lives of comfort. 

The writers of the French Dispatch gather at the end of The French Dispatch to collaborate on the obituary for their dearly departed editor, Arthur Horowitz, Jr. (Bill Murray).

All of Anderson’s films have this sort of ending. They end with a sort of hope or at least a finality and resolution. Everything is tied in a bow whether easily or by reaching far across the story to do so. Those are forms of acceptance, but often those acceptances are on our part. We’re accepting the contract that the film is over and we may now leave the theater or turn off our home viewing devices. Yet, those aren’t always the true moments of acceptance for the characters’ grief, even if they present those endings as a solution to the grief.

Take The Darjeeling Limited for example. It has a standard Andersonian ending with a slow motion sequence set to The Kinks’ “Powerman.” It’s a neat and tidy ending, but it isn’t the period of acceptance for these characters. It’s just the last step on their journey. The period of acceptance for each of them comes as they go to the funeral for the boy they couldn’t save in the river. As the Whitmans sit in the pedicab, the scene shifts to an identically positioned Jack (Jason Schwartzman), Francis (Owen Wilson) and Peter (Adrien Brody) in the back of a limo heading to their father’s funeral.

In that flashback we see where the Whitmans’ collective neuroses are manifest. Not only that, but we learn that their father died in Peter’s arms, much like the boy he couldn’t save from the river. The Whitman brothers, trespassers at a sacred rite, who have made light of many of the things they’ve seen while in India, see their own grief in another person. They recognize their hurt and that they haven’t fully grieved their father.

It’s here that the Whitmans can finally come to understand their grief. The rest of the film is that catharsis. It’s lighter and the men feel more for each other. They find it in themselves to be honest about where they’re at in their lives and take care of some unfinished business. It makes the final scenes of the brothers running for that train more meaningful knowing they’ve already reached this point where they knew they no longer needed to hold onto something that can’t hold sway over them any more.

Similarly, Isle of Dogs has an ending that nicely encapsulates the story. The refrain of “I Won’t Hurt You” by The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band is heard again and all is well. There’s a big step before that, though. There’s a beautifully captured scene that caps off Chief’s (Bryan Cranston) grief. It comes on the boat just as the dogs have banded together to escape the island and take back their homes from the evil cat cabal ruling Megasaki. Atari (Koyu Rankin), Spots (Liev Schreiber), and Chief stand in a ceremony of sorts. It’s a passing of the guard… dog. In this moment, Chief in a few words finds what he’s always said he hasn’t wanted. He finds someone to love and care for and in that way he lets go. He lets go of his past and he looks forward to his future with Atari and as a dog who knows love. The ending is lovely, but it’s this scene that captures the acceptance Chief has never allowed himself to come near.

The most cathartic example comes from the hardest of Anderson’s films to like. The audience spends the entirety of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou listening to a boorish, insecure lout push away anyone and everyone who tries to implore him to see reason about the death of his mentor and father figure. His negligence even costs him the life of a man he thinks could be his son. Yet, when Steve and his crew get into the submersible for a look at the jaguar shark that started their crazy expedition, something ethereal happens.

The crew holds their breath as the pink school of fish swims around them. The music, “Starálfur” by Sigur Rós, begins and we see the shark that ate Esteban (Seymour Cassel) as it swims into view. There are a few moments of levity before the song swells and Steve finally breaks down as he remembers. He remembers his love of the sea, his love of Esteban, and his strong affection for Ned (Owen Wilson). He wants to be remembered, too, but he knows that if he’s remembered as he is now, he’ll only be seen as a has been. Seeing the shark again, accepting that he must change to be the man Esteban and Ned saw, is what spursSteve beyond his grief and gives him new energy to complete his life’s work.

The ending of Steve and his crew marching to the Belafonte to the sounds of “Queen Bitch” by David Bowie is hopeful. It’s a renewed purpose toward being the man he needs to be in the world. As they arrive, you can see a figure, smoking a pipe, dressed in a pilot’s uniform, the spirit of Steve’s conscience guiding the crew on their path toward immortality. This tremendously insensitive jackass can change and he will change.

Acceptance is often hard earned. It comes with a sacrifice of sorts, a letting go of something that we think we need. With grief it’s the step we fear. We think if we let go then we can’t remember. If we let go then what we no longer have won’t have the meaning it once did. What Wes Anderson’s films expound upon, though, is that acceptance is more than letting go, it’s letting something else be born in its place. We don’t have this one thing we used to, but now we have something else. The concrete nature of that is soothing, loss is bearable, and when it’s necessary to feel that loss again, we can navigate back to the main menu and hit play. That, or wait for Anderson’s next film to see how he weaves grief into his next intricate and idiosyncratic world because he will always play in this sandbox. He’ll always return to that most universal of human (and canine) experiences.