Arts View: Fanfare for John Barry, the man whose music could make a movie

It was Barry, in reality the York-born jazz band leader John Barry Prendergast, who brought an innate cool to British movies in the 1960s. He helped define an era and was an inventive and diverse presence on the film music scene.

There are myriad film composers whose work we know and love. Think of the films scored by Max Steiner, Erich Wolfgang Korngold and Bernard Herrmann. Very few edge into the public consciousness as recognisable individuals in their own right. John Barry was one of them.

Over five decades and more than 100 films he joined an exclusive band of composers whose work elevated them beyond just another faceless member of the filmmaking ensemble. Alongside John Williams, Lalo Schifrin, Elmer Bernstein and Jerry Goldsmith, John Barry became renowned for music that, when heard in isolation, could re-run movies in the collective imagination.

He was still in his twenties when his arrangement of Monty Norman's James Bond theme helped make Dr No a worldwide smash. Of course there was the small, inconsequential matter of a star-making performance by Sean Connery, but the power and majesty of Barry's work should not be underestimated.

He enjoyed his busiest and most successful period in the 20 years from 1965. In truth, his work redefined the image of the composer. Barry was hip, groovy and brought that perspective to his work in films as wide-ranging as grand historical pageants (The Lion in Winter) to ultra-modern depictions of life on the wild side in a changing Sixties America (Midnight Cowboy). He won two Oscars for Born Free, another for The Lion in Winter, a fourth for Out of Africa (for a score that lasted only 35 minutes) and a fifth for Dances with Wolves. For many John Barry will be forever associated with the 007 series – he scored 12 Bond movies over a quarter of a century. He gave the franchise that added "wow" factor – something that no director, actor or stuntman could achieve.

His was a style based around low strings, saxophones and French horns. His admirers spoke of his flair for sensuous melody and the tragic soul of biopics like Robin and Marian (Connery in a career-best performance as a middle-aged Robin Hood) and Chaplin (with Robert Downey Jr as the little tramp). Barry could (and did) do it all. His sudden death on Sunday, from a heart attack in his 78th year, provoked a global response. Clearly he was beloved. His music had crossed over into real life and, for many, represented a zeitgeist in cinema that transcended genres and generations.

The man with the Midas touch, John Barry is as much a part of the fabric of the cinema of the last 50 years as Connery and the rest. From Amy Foster to Zulu, he will be remembered as long as music is played.