Bertrand Burgalat’s score album for Marc Fitoussi’s film Ni vue, ni connue, internationally titled All About Corinne, has been available digitally since October 2. Tricatel also lists a 24-track vinyl edition. One detail from Burgalat’s French interview makes the release particularly useful for filmmakers: when he checked the project’s exchange platform at the end, he found roughly 140 pieces, tests and versions.
That is not a contest between 140 files and 24 winners. It shows how different a working score is from a soundtrack album. The first is a record of creative decisions against picture. The second is a curated listening experience.
A new export is not always a new composition
The interview groups pieces, tests and versions together. A changed chord, alternate orchestration, shorter ending or different balance may create another file without becoming a wholly separate cue.
This is why file counts make poor productivity metrics. A brief cue can require many passes if it has to shift our view of a character without announcing the mechanism. A longer piece may lock quickly because director and composer already agree on its function.
The exchange platform can preserve a file history, although the reasons behind each decision still need notes. Burgalat says a director may keep alternatives and later find that music not retained for one scene belongs somewhere else. Retention is useful because it protects possibilities, not because every version deserves resurrection.
The director is choosing differences, not files
Burgalat describes Fitoussi as precise about what he wanted. He also says some music was composed before scenes were shot, including material for the opening titles, based on the director’s guidance.
That complicates the familiar pipeline in which score arrives only after picture lock. Music can precede photography, shape energy and then change once edited picture exists. Elsewhere, the image leads and the cue responds.
For producers, the practical issue is whether each version teaches the team something. “Try again” creates work. “Keep the motion, but remove the chord that makes the character appear resolved” creates a direction. The difference is not musical vocabulary. It is decision quality.
The album is not a production archive
Tricatel’s listing contains 24 tracks, several under one minute. Their inclusion is a useful reminder that duration does not determine a cue’s dramatic weight. A short bridge can redirect attention, connect locations or change the rhythm of an entrance.
The album gives titles and an order to 24 tracks. The sources do not reveal the full working history or tell listeners how close each alternate came to final picture.
Two tempting claims should therefore be avoided. Roughly 140 working items do not prove that the production was indecisive. Twenty-four album tracks do not prove that the film contains exactly 24 cues. The figures describe different objects.
Version control protects the creative conversation
This case offers a straightforward production lesson: name and retain versions. Every export should identify the cue and version. When picture is moving, it should also identify the cut. Otherwise a rich history quickly becomes a folder full of plausible mistakes.
Notes should preserve the reason behind a choice. “Version 7 approved” is weaker than “keep the entry and pulse, reduce the harmony under the line.” The second note tells the composer what must survive the next revision.
For an English-language production, the same discipline matters across the whole music team. A music editor, score producer, orchestrator and mixer may all need to know which file belongs to which picture. Clear naming is not bureaucracy added to creativity. It is how creativity remains recoverable under schedule pressure.
A soundtrack album becomes a standalone object
Listening to a score album means hearing its tracks without needing to know whether or how each one appears in the final cut. The end-title cue and the track called All About Corinne can be heard as standalone pieces.
The published listing does not establish how its order was chosen or whether any tracks were adapted for the album. It only shows that very short pieces sit beside longer tracks in the final edition.
Today’s report is therefore more than a release notice. It places two distinct objects side by side: a working history of roughly 140 pieces, tests and versions, and a 24-track album. The central craft is not endless variation. It is keeping enough reliable history to choose well, then accepting that the record should not reproduce every step the film required.