Orlando von Einsiedel on How He Works With Music in Documentary Films
Orlando von Einsiedel on How He Works with Music in Documentary Films
The Award-winning director reflects on the alchemy of storytelling, the emotional weight of filmmaking in fragile environments, and why a good score should move you without ever shouting for attention.
Orlando von Einsiedel is no stranger to telling stories from the edges of the world. The Academy Award-winning filmmaker, best known for The White Helmets and Virunga, brings audiences closer to the lives of those navigating extraordinary circumstances.
The filmmaker highlights one of the most crucial yet overlooked elements of his craft: music. The relationship between director and composer, he explains, is vital, especially in documentaries where sound acts as an emotional bridge to unfamiliar stories. For von Einsiedel, the score shapes the tone and enhances themes, building connections across cultural and linguistic divides.
Central to this discussion is his long-standing collaboration with composer Patrick Jonsson. From early thematic sketches that guide the filmmaking process to the careful refinement of scores in the final stages, von Einsiedel describes how trust and humility define their partnership. He also shares how, in culturally sensitive projects like Lost Children, working with local musicians ensures the score remains authentic and respectful.
Can you tell me about your very first experience working with a composer? How did that collaboration shape your understanding of the role music plays in storytelling or in your films?
Orlando von Einsiedel: My first proper experience working with a composer, it wasn’t great, to be honest. I had no prior understanding of how the process was supposed to work. At the time, I handed over the film when the edit was locked, expecting there to be a conversation about the score. Instead, I got the music back, and that was it. End of story.
A lot of it didn’t work, it just didn’t fit with what we were trying to do. Me and the editor had worked closely to shape the emotional tone of the film, but the composer interpreted it entirely differently.
At the time, I thought, is this just the way it is? How do you navigate that? Because this process has to be a conversation. Generally films are projects that you’ve worked on for years, where every choice, down to the guide music you’ve used in the edit—has been carefully considered. When a composer misses the mark, you need to talk about it and refine it. Sometimes they nail it on the first go, but more often, it’s close, and you work together to make it right.
“The film and soundtrack shouldn’t stand apart but come together seamlessly to serve the story.”
How has your approach changed since that experience?
Orlando von Einsiedel: It’s completely different now. Working with someone like Pat [Patrick Jonsson] is the complete opposite of that first experience. Pat gets it. He’s open and collaborative, and working with him is a dream.
When you collaborate with a composer, you want them to leave their mark, that’s why you’ve chosen to work with them. But their mark has to be sympathetic to the film. If it isn’t, there’s a conversation to be had about why.
The Lost Children
How do you collaborate with Patrick specifically to ensure the music aligns with and enhances your storytelling?
Orlando von Einsiedel: As a director, Pat’s always my first choice, though sometimes I work with other composers for end credits or opening credits songs. As a producer, I tend to collaborate with whoever the director of that film chooses. But when I’m directing, Pat is who I go with.
The way we work best, and not every project has this luxury, because of time constraints or Pat being busy with another project, is by starting early. We talk a lot, often before I’ve filmed anything. We discuss the themes of the story, the actual narrative, and the protagonists. Ideally, Pat then goes away and creates about 15 to 20 minutes of soundscapes, ideas, and melodies. Sometimes there’s a thematic melody that emerges as a potential heart of the film.
I take those rough ideas with me on the shoot and so those early sketches, often accompany me on the film’s journey as it morphs and changes. When I start filming, I may have one idea, but by the end, the film has usually transformed because the shooting experience changes you.
So, you’re already incorporating his music into your creative process, even as you’re filming?
Orlando von Einsiedel: Absolutely. It’s amazing how much of what Pat puts together in those early sketches ends up in the final score. During the edit, we take those rough cues and work them into the guide music alongside temp tracks from other films or composers that feel thematically or emotionally similar. Then, as we progress, Pat refines his initial ideas, and his music gradually replaces the temp tracks.
I love that you bring his sketches on location with you. Given the kind of films you make, I imagine listening to those pieces in the field must be quite powerful.
Orlando von Einsiedel: It really is. The shoots we do are often in highly charged environments, places where people are going through incredibly difficult circumstances. At the end of the day, as I process what I’ve experienced or talk things through with the crew, I sometimes put on headphones and listen to Pat’s music. It can be a really profound experience.
Music clearly plays a unique role in documentary filmmaking, especially in bridging emotions. How do you and Pat navigate where music fits, and where it doesn’t?
Orlando von Einsiedel: I totally appreciate films that use almost no music. In fact, I really respect those films. Often, when there’s just one cue in a film like that, it resonates even more.
But with the films we make, they’re often set in far-off places, in non-English languages. Part of my job as a director and our job as a film team is to create what I call an “empathy bridge.” We want audiences in London, Los Angeles, Tokyo, or Delhi to care about a story happening in the Democratic Republic of Congo, the Colombian Amazon or Syria.
There are lots of ways we do that, but music is a key tool for creating that connection. Some people might think there’s too much music in my films, and maybe that’s fair criticism, but I believe it’s essential to helping them reach a more mainstream audience. I’m unapologetic about that.
But I’m very sensitive to the risk of there being too much music. Interestingly, something that happens almost every time we make a film is that when Pat delivers the first pass of cues, he usually covers a lot of the film. At this stage, we haven’t done the sound mixing yet, so we’re still working with raw audio—raw recordings of dialogue and background sounds.
As the sound design evolves, we often find that some scenes don’t need music after all. We might pull out four, five, or even six cues. It’s never easy, Pat’s put so much into those pieces, and I’m sure it breaks his heart sometimes, but we often discover that the real-world sounds of the scene, combined with the refined audio mix, create their own drama or emotional resonance.
It feels like both of you have created this space where you can be really honest, removing things, adding things and ego doesn’t even come into it.
That’s one of Pat’s best attributes. I’ve never felt like I couldn’t say what I really think. And sure, everyone has an ego somewhere, but when we’re working on a film, it’s not about me or him—it’s about the film.
Sometimes Pat’s the one saying, “Let’s ditch that cue; we don’t need it anymore.” It might’ve worked for an earlier version of the film, but where the film is now, it’s no longer necessary.
The Lost Children
When you’re working with collaborators, whether it’s a composer like Pat or someone on your sound team, what qualities do you look for? Your projects often deal with sensitive, emotionally charged topics, which must be draining at times.
Orlando von Einsiedel: First and foremost, they have to be top-level at their craft. But equally important—especially for the kinds of films we make—is emotional intelligence and sensitivity.
That applies across the board, to everyone on the creative team from cinematographers to editors to producers and co-directors. With Pat, one of the things I deeply admire is his humility.
Many of our films are set in places and cultures very different from our own. We’re not the experts on those communities or their stories, and so there is an enormous amount of responsibility to tell those stories correctly and with respect and sensitivity.
On The Lost Children, I collaborated with two co-directors, one Colombian and one British-Peruvian. They were crucial to guiding the film to ensure we told the story authentically and were sensitive to Colombian realities that as a foreigner I might have been blind to. Similarly, Pat worked with an incredibly talented Colombian composer, Simón Mejia from Bomba Estero, who acted as a consultant throughout to ensure the score was culturally sensitive. Pat went out of his way to get the instrumentation right, worked with Indigenous Huitoto musicians, and worked closely with Simón during recording sessions.
That kind of collaboration requires humility and recognising that we, as outsiders, have a responsibility to get it right.
To wrap up, I’d love for you to sum it all up: what makes a truly great score for a film, especially a documentary?
Orlando von Einsiedel: I think, and this echoes something Pat has said to me before, a great score is one you don’t consciously notice. You feel it, but it doesn’t pull you out of the film.
A good score helps you connect with the protagonists, and feel their journey, and their emotions. It’s not there to say, “Listen to me! I’m the score of this film!” It’s there to support everything else, camera work, editing, colour grading, sound design, and work in harmony with them.
They shouldn’t stand apart but come together seamlessly to serve the story.
