Recent viewing

 Ennio

Viewed at the Parkway Theater in McKees Rocks, PA Thursday, Feb. 29

The Parkway Theater. I'd been there twice before, tucked away in the Rocks, not along the main stretch where Hollowood Music and the Roxian Theater are. It's a tiny theater, but has real seating (I don't know, max of 50? Even that seems high) and shows films not shown elsewhere around town. My wife and I had been there previously for Film Kitchen, to see some of Rob Press' videos, and the documentary Make me Famous about artist Edward Brezinski. It was at the latter I saw the poster for the Ennio Morricone documentary, and I knew I had to attend. 

To back up a little: we make a point of supporting local cinemas. Hell, we have a nice one (The Manor) just four blocks from our house. They often show independent films in between earning their money on big releases.

To back up more: we had a prime age of cinema in Pittsburgh about six-ten years ago. The Hollywood Theater in Dormont had a highly varied programming schedule, the Pittsburgh Filmmakers was still in operation, the Manor did its thing, and Row House Cinema was showing its own brand of second-run films. 

Then it all blew the hell up.

The Filmmakers collapsed under the weight of its debt, for a variety of reasons I won't elaborate here. The Hollywood was, in reductive terms, subject to a hostile takeover. The Manor continues, the Tull in Sewickley has since become the Lindsay (where I played on Sunday), and Row House continues. 

It's not a cinematic desert here, but it's not what it was. Then there's the Parkway in McKees Rocks of all places, running films not playing elsewhere, at least some of the time. 

Back to the present: a 2.5 hour Ennio Morricone documentary? I'm totally there. I went alone this time, not only due to the film's length, but my wife had started to develop a little bit of a sinus infection and didn't want to bother anyone else. I know it's a long haul for anyone who might not be a fan.

What to say about such a long film about il Maestro? Not long enough?

It's a talking head-style film largely, a lot of interviews of various people. There's biographical information, but it's kept largely to a minimum. Morricone has always been dedicated to the music, it's his life. There's passing mention of his wife Maria, and just a little more information on her would have been appreciated. They were married 63 years at the time of his death. 

There are unnecessary interviewees; Paul Simonon of The Clash gets, two sentences? Bruce Springsteen, definitely not needed. At least Pat Metheny and James Hetfield actually play Morricone selections. 

Most of the talking heads are thankfully film directors Morricone has worked with, and fellow composers. Ennio was conservatory trained, starting on the trumpet and moving to composition. There's a narrative of him finding work arranging pop songs and moving to film music after his studies, and his beloved teacher not generally approving. Meanwhile, throughout his career Morricone was a highly original arranger and composer, drawing on unusual orchestrations and compositional techniques. Pluralistic as well; seeing John Cage in 1965 (I think) led to the improvisation group Nuovo Consonzano, and further experimentation with compositional techniques. 

It's those late 60s/70s horror/Eurocrime/giallo scores that I generally like the best of his work. I have quite a few on vinyl. There's a similarity between them all, but I love them just the same. Autopsy, Lizard in a Woman's Skin, Black Belly of the Tarantula being examples. More improvisational, funky at time, nastier sounding in general. 

I'm certain I've mentioned this in at least one previous blog post, but I highly recommend the collection Crime and Dissonance. It's a broad-ranging two CD collection of some of the stranger Morricone moments, chosen by Mike Patton of Faith No More and Mr. Bungle (one of the brief talking heads in the film). Because of that collection, I discovered one of my favorite Morricone scores: Giornata nera per l'ariete (The Fifth Cord in the English version). The opening theme is deceptively sweet, with wordless, breathy, orgasmic/panicked? vocals by Edda Dell'Orso, and these opening chords: C Major/B flat, D Major/C, E Major/D, etc. All the chords, whether major/minor/diminished, have a flatted seventh degree in the bass. They sit ambiguously, neither dissonant nor ever resolved. I've heard him use that harmony in at least one other score, but if you wrote 500+ film scores, you'd be allowed to repeat yourself now and then. 

Edda is given a small bit of screen time in the film, and I think she was short-changed. She's so much the sound of Morricone's scores for many years, I really wanted to see and hear more of her.

There's a comment in the film that you hear two notes of a Morricone score and you know it's him. I say, maybe. I hang on to the opinion that Bernard Herrmann is my favorite of all film composers. Herrmann is instantly identifiable: the way he uses repeated rhythms, his bold harmonies, his love of clarinets and low brass (when applicable). With exceptions, you hear two notes of Herrmann and you know it's him. 

Morricone? Far more chameleon-like. There's no one Morricone. His weirdly surreal Leone-Western scores, his giallos, his later sweet orchestrations. One more omission in my opinion: his score to John Carpenter's The Thing. I'm aware there was some back-and-forth on the nature his contribution, but ultimately Morricone did his version of a John Carpenter score. It's great. I would have preferred some commentary on that over Oliver Stone's appearance. 

Which leads me to say, see this, and do it in one sitting if you can. There's enough content to have made a mini-series, but it's best taken in one large dose. Bravo bravo, il Maestro.