Hollywood softie meets Icelandic sprite as Cameron Crowe and Jónsi discuss 'We Bought a Zoo' soundtrack at Barnes & Noble

Cameron Crowe and Jonsi.
4:45 pm Dec. 14, 2011
“Maybe the brewskies?”
That was how Jónsi, the sprightly, erstwhile frontman for the band Sigur Rós, described his favorite part of working with director Cameron Crowe on the soundtrack for the latter’s new movie, We Bought A Zoo. The movie centers on a journalist (Matt Damon) who loses his wife and falls in love with a zoo (and, as previews strongly suggest, Scarlett Johansson). Though Jónsi mentioned the “brewskies” a couple of times, with enthusiasm, he was quick to admit that the experience was “not really rock and roll because the beer was gluten-free.”
The Union Square Barnes & Noble-sponsored panel on Tuesday evening was not really rock and roll either. The hundred or so attendees ranged from adorable tweens to middle-aged, shiny-faced office drones; hoodies and converse were as plentiful as balding pates. But Jónsi’s presence, combined with the shaggy-haired Crowe’s—in blue jeans, a button-down shirt, and sneakers, Crowe is still more Stephen Malkmus than Steven Spielberg—did ensure that the event was pretty darn adorable.
Jónsi, who looks a bit like Tin Tin (mostly the hair) seemed infused with a slightly anxious energy, but both he and Crowe—in conversation with Rita Houston of WFUV, who asked her own questions as well as harvesting a few from Twitter—hit their marks with ease.
There were the self-deprecating stories: Jónsi dragging his mother onto the red carpet at the film’s premiere (“really funny, really embarrassing”); Crowe lamenting the demise of one character’s loud, “angry stomach,” a hilarious idea (in his mind at least) but one which bombed with test audiences so badly it “didn’t even make the deleted scenes on the DVD.”
There were introspective moments: Jónsi musing about the difference between making music for yourself and music that reflects plot lines and character arcs; Crowe describing the inspirational playlists he makes that conjure a movie in his mind and are inevitably superior to the ones he actually ends up with.
There were anecdotes that deftly combined the two: Crowe recounted playing Jónsi’s “Sinking Friendships” for Matt Damon during a key emotional scene until “Matt just started weeping.” Jónsi, giggling, chimed in to say that had been the first scene Crowe showed him, and that he’d been curious as to whether Damon’s tears were real or fake.
There were awkward moments as well: Twitter user “Reno Dakota” wanted to know if Jónsi would try to top Björk’s swan dress if his soundtrack were nominated for an Oscar. Jónsi looked perplexed; “yeah, probably,” he finally managed to mutter.
After the panel, signing copies of the soundtrack, both Jónsi and Crowe were gracious: smiling, chatting with audience members, pausing for quick candid photos. But there was a touch of blatant commercialism amid the consummate professionalism: buying a CD entitled audience members to priority seating—though by 6:30, when the space was opened to all, there were still plenty of seats available. On the back of each were instructions for appropriate post-panel and pre-signing behavior. “Please remain seated,” “We will bring customers to the author row by row.”
Enforced etiquette isn’t very rock and roll either, but that’s perhaps fitting for Crowe, who started out his career as the youngest-ever writer for Rolling Stone and now directs family-friendly Christmas movies starring Matt Damon. Then again, that progression hasn’t necessarily diluted his musical taste; his description of Sigur Rós’s music as that of “clear-eyed optimism” seems as good a description as any of the weirdly painful beauty of their otherworldly sound.
Whatever magic is in the music, and however rock and roll its own directions—the soundtrack, which played as the audience assembled, had the all the hallmarks of a classic Jónsi jam with an extra dollop of Hollywood-sanctioned drama: swelling, ethereal, emotionally disconcerting in a way likely to make the fainter-hearted among us tear up—this gig was still in a giant corporate bookstore, as Crowe reminded the audience—who had come to get a movie soundtrack signed by a director and a musician—near the end of the panel. Asked about the inspiration for the movie, he said drily, “I’m sure the book’s here somewhere.”



