Expanding Music Knowledge - Understanding Morricone's Music Language (2)

Partner is a political drama film written and directed by Bernardo Bertolucci, adapted from Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s, 1846 novella The Double: A Petersburg Poem, transposed to Italy and updated to relate to the pro-Vietcong student protests that took place all over Italy at that time. The film stars Pierre Clémenti, Tina Aumont, and Sergio Tofano, and follows a college student named Giaccobe who has a routine life – until he encounters a twin, a dopplegänger, he is not related to. As the two get to know each other Giaccobe discovers that his twin-friend has many appealing qualities he doesn’t have, which inspire him to change his life… but not necessarily for the better.

There have only ever been a handful of tracks from Ennio Morricone’s score for Partner ever released; the most being four, which were included as bonus tracks at the end of the GDM release of the score for La Cina è Vicina in 2004. The first cue on the album, “Splash” is actually a song, written by Morricone with lyricist Audrey Nohra, performed by Peter Boom; the vocals are dreamy and a touch loopy, while the orchestral backing includes a dancing harpsichord, a modern drum kit, and a choir making pigeon noises whispering ‘splash, dash, flash’ in an unexpectedly creepy way. The whole thing seems to be a love letter to soap and bathing, and was clearly written while under the influence of a hallucinogen (actually, one of the characters in the film was a detergent salesmen, so it wouldn’t surprise me if this wasn’t his jingle)

The score proper begins with “Povero Claudio,” a gentle theme for pianos which is a little wistful and old-fashioned, but ends on a shockingly violent note. The subsequent “Vecchia Hollywood” is a surprisingly lush and romantic piece with an old Hollywood sheen, a touch of Alfred Newman in the languid strings, and brushed snares in the background. The final cue, “Roma Sospesa” is a rhythmic, insistent pulse for choppy strings and hooting woodwinds, that actually reminds me of some of the percussive cello music he would later write for The Untouchables.

Focus on: Vocals, orchestra, harpsichord, modern drums, choir, piano, Alfred Newman

Roma Comme Chicago is a gritty and hard-boiled crime drama directed by Alberto de Martino. It stars John Cassavetes as Mario, a professional hitman who takes a young, ambitious partner named Enrico (Nikos Kourkoulos). Before long it becomes apparent that Enrico doesn’t have the same code of ethics that Mario does; he makes advances towards Mario’s wife, and then takes over his life by framing Mario for, irocnically, a crime he genuinely didn’t commit. With Mario out of the picture Enrico is unleashed on the city, leaving a trail of deaths behind him. To stop him, Mario teams up with a prison commissioner (Gabriele Ferzetti) to stop him.

Morricone’s score for Roma Comme Chicago has never been released in any format but two cues – “Titoli Movente” and “Una Storia Finita” – have been floating around the secondary market for some time, and can be heard on Youtube. “Titoli Movente” is a masculine driving piece for orchestra and electric guitar, underpinned by a driving percussive groove full of menace and strength; when the harpsichord comes in during the piece’s second half, the effect is superb. On the other hand, “Una Storia Finita” is actually quite lovely, a light, wistful, pseudo-romantic melody for solo trumpet, orchestra, and harpsichord that has a sense of finality and warmth to it, especially when the melody switches to sweeping strings.

The main thematic idea in the score is an original song, “La Ballata di Hank McCain,” written by Morricone and Audrey Nohra, and sung in English by Jackie Lynton. It’s a dramatic, punchy, hilariously serious song sung with impressive an earnestness that verges on the ludicrous. Morricone had a wonderful knack for writing great music that ultimately gets turned into something ridiculously over-the-top in song form, and this is another one of those – it’s very much in the same vein as “A Gringo Like Me” and others. I love it, but others may find it profoundly ridiculous, and the three different versions of it on the soundtrack may be a little too much

The rest of the score is surprisingly low-key, often comprising smooth jazz instrumentals arranged in a lush orchestral style that occasionally reminds me of 1960s John Barry or Henry Mancini. Cues like “Irene,” “Defilée,” and “Come Quando Fuori Piove” are really quite lovely, blending strings with harpsichords, muted brasses, and shuffling percussion in the former, and featuring semi-tropical rhythms for a prominent marimba in the latter. Later, “Come Lei,” “Sogno Dopo Sogno,” “Senza Parole,” and “Rosemary” all continue with the softly enchanting jazz, each featuring a different lead instrument playing the main melodic line – a bluesy electric guitar in the first track, muted trumpets in the second, piano in the third, and so on.

The one piece that stands out as being very different is the title track, “Gli Intoccabili – Titoli,” a vicious and volatile piece of action-oriented orchestral writing for jazzy cymbals, frantic electric guitars, stabbed piano clusters, and shrill strings, all performed at a rapid, often disorienting pace. It’s a shame that there isn’t more of this in the rest of the score, because it really is quite excellent.

Focus on: John Barry, Henry Mancini, jazz instrument, orchestral music, harpsichord, brass, dragged percussion, subtropical rhythms, marimba, jazz, blues electric guitar, trumpet, piano, jazz cymbals, electric guitar, piano cluster

Arguably one of the greatest westerns ever made, Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in the West – C’Era Una Volta Il West in his native Italian – was his eagerly awaited, and ultimately critically acclaimed follow up to the Clint Eastwood “Dollars” trilogy that he completed with The Good the Bad and the Ugly in 1966. It’s a tale of murder, death, betrayal, and revenge, and focuses on three individuals: Frank, played against type by Henry Fonda; Jill, played by Claudia Cardinale; and a man with no name, played by Charles Bronson, whose defining feature is that he plays the harmonica. Frank is a gunslinger, who has just killed an entire family so that he and his gang can take over the land and exploit the railroad, which is intended to be built nearby. Jill is the new wife of the man who Frank has just killed, and has arrived in town to be with him – only to find her life in ruins thanks to Frank’s ruthlessness. Meanwhile, Harmonica has a vendetta against Frank that goes back years, and intends to exact revenge in any way he can. The film also stars Jason Robards as Cheyenne, another local gunman, and features Gabriele Ferzetti, Woody Strode, Jack Elam, and Lionel Stander in supporting roles. It has a screenplay by Leone, Bernardo Bertolucci, and Dario Argento – a holy triumvirate of Italian filmmaking talent if ever there was one – and of course features one of Morricone’s most beloved scores.

Leone had Morricone compose the score before shooting started, and played the music in the background for the actors on set to inspire them – and What an inspiration that must have been! The score is based around four main themes for the four main characters, as well as an overarching theme for the film as a whole, and several spectacular one-off set pieces that underscore the violence and betrayal at the heart of the story.

Jill’s theme is the most famous, a glorious and soaring melody that rises from a soft and gentle duet for dulcimer and flute to incorporate a wordless solo soprano by the incomparable Edda dell'Orso,, and eventually the full orchestra. It’s a theme of great fragility and beautify, but is also underpinned by a strength and determination that captures her character perfectly; its performances in the opening “C’Era Una Volta Il West,” the sweeping “Arrivo Alla Stazione,” the wistful “L’America di Jill,” the peaceful “Un Letto Troppo Grande,” the sad, almost lost-sounding “In Una Stanza Con Poca Luce,” and the operatic “Finale” remain among the best things Morricone ever wrote, and that’s saying a lot.

Frank’s theme is, naturally, the most sparse and restrained, a tight and uncomfortable melody that uses a repetitive electric guitar motif alongside a harpsichord to convey his brutal, single-minded ruthlessness. It first appears in “L’Uomo,” and then grows to near-operatic heights of tragedy in “Il Grande Massacro,” when Frank and his gang calmly slaughter the entire McCain family in a scene filled with gratuitous slow-motion and uneasy close-ups. Later statements in the regretful, bittersweet “Epilogo” also leave positive impressions.

Harmonica’s theme, as one might expect, is built around that instrument in combination with undulating strings and an electric guitar, but Alessandro Alessandrini's performance of it is sparse, dissonant, and antagonistic, the flip side to the romantic American west. The harmonica performances bookend a remarkable middle section for choir and orchestra. The theme is most prominent, naturally, in “Armonica,” in “L’Ultimo Rantolo,” and of course in the standout “L’Uomo dell’Armonica,” where the voices really soar.

Finally, Cheyenne’s theme has an almost comedic edge, with percussion items that mimic the hoofbeats of a horse, accompanying a plucky banjo tune. Cues like “La Posada 1,” the eponymous “Cheyenne,” “Sul Tetto del Treno,” and “Addio a Cheyenne” feature Cheyenne’s theme prominently, but Morricone is careful to never let the music – or the character – turn into parody, instead adding a level of uneasiness with minor key strings and frequent glittering harpsicord notes.

While the highlights of The Good the Bad and the Ugly are arguable superior, Once Upon a Time in the West is probably a more well-rounded overall score, and as such it is always in the conversation regarding best western scores, best spaghetti western scores, and the best scores of Morricone’s career. It’s certainly an absolutely vital work that belongs in every self-respecting fan’s collection. The score has, naturally, been released dozens and dozens of times over the years, on alums of varying length and varying sound quality. I have chosen to review the 2014 2-CD limited edition release of the score from GDM/Intermezzo Media, which pairs over an hour of score from this film with almost 40 minutes of music from that other legendary work, A Fistful of Dollars.

,Focus on: Edda dell'Orso, Alessandro Alessandrini, dulcimer, flute, orchestra, electric guitar, harpsichord, opera, harmonica, electric guitar

Il Grande Silenzio is a critically acclaimed Spaghetti western directed by the great Sergio Corbucci. The film is set in a snow-bound Utah town in the 1890s and stars French actor Jean Louis Trintignant as a gunslinger named Silence, who has dedicated himself to protecting the weak and downtrodden after witnessing his parents being murdered by bandits as a child; he survived the attack, was rendered mute by the experience, hence his name. Silence gets the opportunity to avenge his past many years later when Pollicut (Luigi Pistilli), the corrupt official who hired the bandits that killed his family, hires a new and even more vicious bounty hunter named Loco (Klaus Kinski) to kill the Utah townspeople as part of an illegal land ownership plot. It’s a complicated story, filled with political undertones, which Corbucci said were intentional commentaries on the then-recent deaths of Che Guevara and Malcolm X.

Morricone’s score for the film is one of his most conventional efforts in the western genre, playing more like a fairly straightforward dark drama without all the quirky ideas and offbeat instrumentation. Perhaps the film’s snowbound location had something to do with it; there is a vein of icy desolation running through much of the score, reflecting both Silence’s isolation and his desire for revenge.

The main theme, as presented in the opening cue “Il Grande Silenzio (Restless)” is actually quite lovely, with a pastoral tone and a lilting melody carried by strings, guitars, and almost imperceptible finger-cymbals like sound like dripping icicles. The vocals that come in during the second half of the piece, adding a layer of warmth and humanity, which is recapitulated later in the lovely “Viaggio”. However, all this warmth this is stripped away later in cues like “E l’Amore Verra,” “Voci Nel Deserto,” and the melancholy “Gli Assassini e la Madre,” which present the theme with a sense of bitterness that matches the film’s bleak, wintry setting. The poignant vocal version of theme in the second of those cues is especially impressive.

The action music in cues like “Passaggi Nel Tempo,” “Barbara e Tagliente,” and is bold and spiky, using offbeat rhythmic ideas, unusual howling vocals, trilling trumpets, and shrill, stabbing woodwinds to raise the tension and create a sense of suspense and imminent danger. There are elements of the main theme in here too, ensuring that Silence’s presence is marked.

There is a love theme too, which first appears in the cue “Invito all’Amore (Silent Love)”. This isn’t your typical romantic love, however; Morricone’s love theme for Silence is anchored by a solo violin accompanied by nervous piano textures, and has a bitter, haunted quality, as if acknowledging that Silence’s disfigurement means he will never truly know that emotion fully. Its performance in the conclusive “L’Ultimo Gesto” begins with a series of sound effects – tapped pianos, shrill strings, gurgling percussion – and gradually increases in intensity before emerging into a shattering variation at around the 3:20 mark that ends the score on an operatic, tragic note.

Focus on: Che Guevara, Malcolm X, Vocals, Strings, Guitar, Finger Cymbals, Howl, Vibrato Trumpet, Woodwinds, Violin Solo, Piano Texture, Piano, Percussion

The score is one of Morricone’s lively 1960s pop scores, most of which is based around several light, breezy, jazzy arrangements of a recurring main theme, naturally called “L’Alibi”. The five ‘shake’ versions of the theme are effortlessly groovy, and often feature Hammond organs and electric guitars backed by a choir, rocking and dancing to the beat, while others are arranged like a samba, an ‘interludio romantico,’ or a ‘marcetta grotesca’.

Others pieces embrace a different light pop/lounge jazz style that is infectious as it is so much of its era. “Immagini del Tempo,” for example, has an unmistakable bossa nova style which Morricone blends with very classical orchestrations for strings, harpsichord, and doo-doo voices. In the various versions of “Belinda May” the choir croons the name of the girl in the title. “Canzone Della Libertà” is an unusual but superbly memorable song performed by the legendary vocalist Sergio Endrigo and I Cantori Moderni di Alessandro Alessandroni, which includes snippets from famous speeches about freedom, and has a bouncy brass-led refrain. “Sognando” even brings out the whistlers.

A few cues do break the mold; “Pennellate” uses harpsichord, strings, and percussion in decidedly unconventional ways to make for an uneasy 2 minutes of listening. Similarly, “Guardando Nel Vuoto” is an off-kilter suspense piece, spiky and agitated, using the same orchestrations as the earlier cue to throw the listener off-balance. “Delicatamente” is a pretty, fragile duet for harpsichord and piano, while “Lo Libero” is an unsettling combination of rumbling timpanis and high, agitated string sustains. Most unusually, “Animaletti” is a tribal piece for electric guitars and jungle drums, with a vocalist repeating the phrase ‘tookoo tookoo tookoo’ over and over again! It’s all very interesting, how it all comes together.

Focus on: Jazz, Samba dance , bossa nova, Sergio Endrigo, Alessandro Alessandrini, Hammond organ, electric guitar, choir, light pop/lounge jazz, strings, harpsichord, brass, whistles, percussion, timpani, electric guitar, jungle drums

Galileo sees Morricone as his most dramatically ecclesiastical, using a large orchestra and an imposing male voice choir to carry the weight of the Catholic church. The wide, open enunciation of the choir are really quite spectacular, and the way Morricone arranges them with deft support from a bank of rich brass, slapping percussion, and sharply stabbed pianos and strings is very impressive. “Galileo Nel Circo” and the conclusive cue, “Galileo,” is probably the best example of this style.

Elsewhere, Morricone cultivates an eerie, mysterious atmosphere that appears steeped in medieval church music and plainsong, using church organs, tolling bells, and voices alongside some quite avant-garde writing for strings and horns; cues like “Sogno Primo,” “Sogno Secondo,” and “Sogno Terzo” are very impressive in this regard. Furthermore, Morricone creates several settings of the ‘new’ medieval hymn “Eresia Defunta Sia,” which features new words by the director Liliana Cavani, and is arranged in a variety of ways that range from romantic to mysterious.

Galileo is a challenging score, but one which I personally admire for its marked difference to other Morricone scores from the period – the classicism, the references to and excerpts from medieval church music, and the adherence to avant garde writing stylistics, are as far away from spaghetti westerns and pop dance grooves as it is possible to be. The score has been released several times over the years – often paired with Morricone’s 1970 score I Cannibali – but this version, released by Digitmovies in 2014, is remastered from the original stereo master tapes, and includes six previously unreleased tracks approved by the composer himself.

Focus on: Large orchestra, male choir, brass, percussion, piano, strings, medieval church music, church organ, bells, voice, horns, classicism

Morricone’s score for the film is built around one of his most haunting main themes, “La Monaca di Monza,” which builds out of some eerie scene-setting in the opening ‘Titoli’ to become a deep, lush, but slightly twisted-sounding viola melody underpinned with nervous piano chords, strings, and a harpsichord. It’s a theme which wants to be rapturously romantic, but never quite gets there, held back by Leyva’s scheming nature. The same melody is arranged as a piece of liturgical choral music for a cut-glass female vocalist ion “Gloria in Excelsis Deo” is then expanded further in the second and third “La Monaca di Monza” cues, which have a more tragic sound to them, again featuring weeping violas and cellos.

Other cues of note include the swooning, but oddly unsettling “Svegliarsi Pensando,” which uses the same instrumental textures as the main theme but carries a different melody, and the more conventionally attractive “Falsa Tranquillitá,” which initially uses a prominent harp to convey a slightly more warm and appealing tone, and then becomes quite expansive during its lush and sweeping finale.

“Quel Giorno” is quite forceful, with a touch of Baroque-flavored action music to represent Leyva’s pursuers from the Spanish Inquisition, while the two “Dopo la Notte” cues feature a variation on the main melody that acts as a lovely pastoral theme for the couple’s ill-fated and ill-conceived child. Finally, in the conclusive “Titoli di Coda,” lets all his melodies sing at their most tender, allowing them to convey the brief romance but ultimate tragedy of the nun of Monza’s life.

Focus on: ,Baroque flavored music, viola, piano, strings, harpsichord, cello, harp

Ruba Al Prossimo Tuo – released internationally as A Fine Pair – is an Italian crime-comedy film directed by Francesco Maselli starring Rock Hudson as Mike Harmon, a New York cop who unwittingly gets duped into helping a beautiful thief named Esmeralda (Claudia Cardinale) into carrying out a jewel heist at an Austrian villa.

Morricone’s score for the film is a mostly monothematic work, with that theme being a sweet, romantic Europop lounge melody that captures the playful and sexy relationship between Mike and Esmeralda at the core of the story. As introduced in the first cue, the piece’s defining trait is the dreamy, jazzy vocals I Cantori Moderni di Alessandroni, which croon and scat with effortless cool.

The theme is reprised with several variations throughout the score, including one featuring harpsichord, organ, and mandolin; a slow and dreamy version featguring vocals by the legendary Edda dell’Orso, a samba version, a mysterious rhythmic take, a slower variation featuring whistles by Alessandro Alessandroni. In addition to this main theme there is also a classically-inflected minuet for keyboards and strings, enriched again with the operatic vocals of Edda, and a peculiar orchestral samba that begins with the sound of a typewriter and slow increases in scope to encompass the whole orchestra and choir.

Focus on: I Cantori Moderni di Alessandro Alessandrini, Edda dell'Orso，Europop lounge melody, jazz vocals, harpsichord, organ, mandolin, samba, orchestra, choir, classical tune minuet, orchestral samba, typewriter

This score, ladies and gentlemen, is Ennio Morricone at his most inaccessible. It’s a score made up almost entirely of string experimentations and improvisations, inspired by the work he did with his colleagues in Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, namely Franco Evangelisti, Mario Bertoncini, Egisto Macchi, John Heineman, and Walter Branchi. While I’m sure that, from a musicologists point of view, this score contains all manner of intellectual and complicated harmonies and patterns and performance techniques, I really don’t have the vocabuilary or intellect to grasp them; it genuinely sounds like 30 minutes of random noise and dissonance, plucked and struck and scraped with nary a melody to speak of. I’m sure it captures the essence of the film perfectly, creating an alienating and increasingly horrifying atmosphere, but as a standalone listen it virtually impossible to connect with.

If you want to listen to anything, listen to the seven-minute opening cue “Musica Per Undici Violini,” which essentially an overarching compilation of everything else in the score. Of the other cues, “Vuoi Essere Felice?” has a little more tonal consonance, with a hallucinatory dream-like sound; “Il Fantasma di Wanda” and “I Sogni dell’Artista” enhance the strings with moaning, wailing, ghostly voices; they become almost orgasmic during the middle section of the disconcerting but mesmerizing “Fantasma”. Later, “Delirio Primo,” “Frenesia,” and “Delirio Secondo” add rumbling percussive sounds to the pre-established palette.

The soundtrack album for Un Tranquillo Posto di Campagna has been released several times over the years – it’s apparently very popular with musical mashochists – and the version I have is the one released by the Spanish label Saimel in 2003, which includes the entire 30 minute score, plus an additional 34-minute single track titled “Un Tranquillo Posto di Campagna Suite,” and which is credited to the entire Gruppo di Improvvisazione Nuova Consonanza, which is weirdness taken to the most extreme levels possible. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Focus on: The most incomprehensible, no melody at all, random noises, moans, wails, ghostly sounds, percussion

Cuore di Mamma is an Italian dark comedy-drama directed by Salvatore Sampe (with whom Morricone previously worked on Grazie Zia in 1968), starring Philippe Leroy, Beba Loncar, and Carla Gravina. Gravina plays Lorenza, who divorced from her rich husband, and has an unfulfilling life hampered by her three restless children. When her mentally unstable eldest son kills the youngest son, tortures the housekeeper, kills his little sister, and tries to frame his mother for the crimes, Lorenza finally snaps – using her membership in a group of political revolutionaries as a cover to exact a violent revenge.

The score for Cuore di Mamma mostly plays against type, and is a gentle, intricate, delicate, if a little peculiar, exploration of the encroaching madness that slowly overtakes Lorenzo as her world unravels. The two “Ricreazione Divertita” cues in the main and end titles initially have a pretty, music box feel, but are then intentionally spoiled and taken over by a series of stylistic clashes, including performances by I Cantori Moderni di Alessandroni and vocal soloist Renata Cortiglioni, an unusual rock music interlude, and a finale that oscillates between rich strings, militaristic marches, and sampled machine guns. This idea of odd juxtaposition continues throughout the score: for example “La Sveglia” is a mournful duet for a solo trumpet and a boinging Jew’s harp, while “Marcia del Generale Graziosi” blends the harsh military theme with longing, romantic strings .

Probably the highlight of the score is the gloriously lush and melodic “Ouverture del Mattino,” which builds from a slightly hesitant opening featuring little piano and harpsichord motifs, pizzicato textures, and string washes, to become quite florid and impressive, with classical, almost Mozartian solo violin stylings. I’m also quite taken by the straightforward classical string melodies in “Giorno di Lavoro” and “Quartetto,” which are really lovely, as well as the beautifully idyllic and dream-like vocal track “Ninna Nanna Per Adulteri,” and the wistfully delightful harpsichords in “Suoni Per Un Clavicembalo”.

Focus on: Vocal soloist Renata Cortiglioni, rock music, strings, militaristic marches, machine gun sound excerpts, solo trumpet, Jew's harp, baby piano, harpsichord, pizzicato textures, Mozartian solo violin style, classical strings

Morricone’s score is based around two recurring themes – the title track “Scusi, Facciamo l’Amore?” and “A Lidia”, Almost every cue is a variation on one of these two themes; “Scusi, Facciamo l’Amore?” is a lilting piece of lounge jazz for flutes, guitars, and percussion, enlivened by a breathy, near-orgasmic female vocalization that one should not listen to in polite company. “A Lidia,” on the other hand, is a more strident but still romantic piece of Euro-jazz for stronger pianos, stronger percussion licks, thrusting strings, and yet more enticing vocals, making da-de-da noises with a come-hither tone of voice.

The best arrangements of “Scusi, Facciamo l’Amore?” theme include the slightly off-kilter harpsichord version in “Between the Sheets,” the heavy rock stylings in “From Bed to Worse,” the dance-like and charming “Take Me Now,” the Mendelssohn-inspired waltz version in “To the Altar and Back,” and the groovy and finger-snapping “The Big One”.

Meanwhile, the subsequent performances of “A Lidia” are almost straight reprises, although the third version does have a sort of reflective, downcast attitude that offers a different tone, and features a prominent marimba. One or two cues do break the mold – “Passion Play” and “Two Cigarettes” feature whimpering noises and shuddering vocalization parts of which border on the obscene, while “Various Troubles” is a little abstract and dissonant, featuring odd sound effects and weirdly-phrased strings

Focus on: Guitar, Percussion, Lounge Jazz, European Jazz, Piano, Vocals, Harpsichord, Hard Rock, Mendelssohn, Waltz, Marimba

H2S is an Italian science-fiction fantasy, written and directed by Roberto Faenza (with whom Morricone previously worked on Escalation in 1968), and starring Lionel Stander and Denis Gilmore. Ostensibly the film is about a student revolt at a university in a futuristic society where individualism is forbidden, but in reality the film is an excuse of Faenza to engage in a series of peculiar, abstract, surreal vignettes which criticize the political and social climate in Italy in late 1960s. The film was banned in its home country upon release, and has rarely been shown since, making is one of the most obscure entries in Morricone’s filmography. (The title, H2S, is of course the chemical compound symbol for hydrogen sulfide, a poisonous and corrosive that eats away at everything it touches – and is a metaphor for the society in Faenza’s film.

There has never been a legitimate soundtrack release of the score for H2S, meaning it is one of the most obscure soundtracks of Morricone’s entire early career. However, oddly the standalone main theme from the film has become quite popular in recent years, as a result of Morricone playing it regularly in concerts, and it appearing on several compilations. I first came across it when it was included on the 1999 album ‘Cinema Concerto a Santa Cecilia’ and I was enormously impressed – it builds from a cheerful, slightly comedic piano riff to encompass renaissance-style brass, dancing strings, and chimes, in an uplifting and uncharacteristically jolly way.

A second cue from the score, called “Luna Canadese,” also appears on several compilation albums, notably the 2005 EMI album Love Themes. The rest of the score, according to people who have seen the film, is quite peculiar, and is filled with abstract and dissonant pieces for strings and keyboards, plus odd musique-concrete style sound effects. Whatever the case may be, I certainly hope the whole thing sees the light of day at some point, because the main “H2S” theme is delightful and deserves to be more widely known.

Focus on: Piano improvisation, musical concrete style

Gott Mitt Uns, also known as The Fifth Day of Peace in English or Dio è Con Noi in Italian, is a World War II-era drama directed by Giuliano Montaldo, starring Richard Johnson, Michael Goodliffe, and Bud Spencer. The film is based on the true story of two German soldiers, Bruno Grauber (Franco Nero) and Rainer Schultz (Larry Aubrey), who were executed by their comrades in a Canadian-run prisoner of war camp in Amsterdam in May 1945, after being found guilty of cowardice and desertion by fellow POWs.

To capture the terrible circumstances that Grauber and Schultz found themselves in, Morricone decided to score a lot of Gott Mit Uns with harsh dissonance. A large part of the score – one could easily say too much – features harshly abstract noises, stark string marches, machine gun sound effects, martial drums, and plucked guitars all of which come together in a collision of sound that is difficult to like. Numerous long cues feature this music almost exclusively, including the opening “Titoli di Testa,” and subsequent cues such as “Corsa Disperata,” “Un Cielo Senza Aerei,” “Incarcerati,” “Una Questione Di Principio,” All’Alba Del Quinto Giorno,” and the conclusive “Percussioni e Marcia (Titoli Di Coda)”. I understand what Morricone was doing here, but even with the knowledge of what he was aiming to convey with music, I find myself longing to move past these tracks whenever them come on.

Thankfully, the saving grace of Gott Mit Us is the “Lontano” theme a wistful, faraway theme with a regretful undertone that offers a bittersweet memory of home for the German soldiers at the heart of the story. The theme is written for melancholy strings and a prepared piano, and its two performances in “Versione Disco” and “Versione Film” are the most well-rounded concert arrangement of the it. Later, there is a lovely statement in “Nostalgia di Casa”, while the conclusive “Arrangiamento 1974” Morricone adds guitars and steel drums into the instrumental mix, in an odd but compelling choice. Note: the ‘Versione Disco’ thankfully has nothing to do with 1970s dance craze, and jus differentiates between the album and in-film versions of the cue.

One other cue worth noting is “Prigionieri,” an action sequence wherein Morricone underpins the dissonances with a swirling string ostinato and wandering muted brass. “Erika:” and “La Guerra e Finita!” are raucous drinking songs piece sung in German, while “In Cella” is a cue featuring nothing but a man whistling.

Focus on: String marches, machine gun sounds, martial arts drums, plucked guitar, piano, steel drums, raucous drinking songs sung in German, whistles

Morricone’s score for the film falls mainly into two styles: beautiful, classical, elegant romance scoring that relates to the Fräulein Doktor herself, and dissonant, overwhelming music to illustrate the horrors of war. The theme that most people will be drawn to is the Fräulein Doktor theme, which first appears in “Fräulein Doktor on Board the Ship,” and then is re-stated more fully “Fräulein Doktor at the Hotel,” “Champagne and Morphine,” and others. This is truly one of Morricone’s most beautiful themes, in which strings and piano and harpsichord combine in the most gorgeous of ways. Later, “Fräulein Doktor and Dr. Saforet” and “Lesbian Love Scene” underscore the controversial moment when the Fräulein seduces a female chemist so she can obtain a secret formula from her on behalf of the Germans; after some unsettling and hesitant harpsichord passages, the full romance theme emerges again in all its glory, and I especially love how Morricone scored these scenes identically, irrespective of whether the Fräulein was using her guiles on a man or a woman.

On the other hand, the music for the horrors of war sees Morricone at his most challenging and dissonant. Beginning with the “Opening Titles,” Morricone’s music here is unsettling and difficult, filled with nerve-shredding string sustains, rattling percussion ideas, and machine gun sound effects. There are also some moments of tension and suspense too, in cues such as “Disembarking from the Submarine,” “The Watchmaker,” “The Sinking of the Hampshire,” and “The Safe and the Map,” which use string sustains overlaid with nervous tinkling pianos, harpsichords, and snare drum riffs, to underscore the Fräulein as she undertakes the most dangerous parts of her mission.

Other cues of note include “Berlin: At the Restaurant,” an impressionistic, vivid writing for a string quartet, and “Reception at the Embassy,” a lovely piece of classical pastiche.

The film’s big set piece comes in “The Poison Gas Battle at Ypres,” which is sensational – a huge, unstoppable combination of anguished screeching strings, roiling percussion tattoos, screaming brass, guttural choral outbursts, and multiple moments of stark orchestral dissonance. This all comes together to underscore the final scene where – having successfully completed her mission and given the Germans the chemical formula for poison gas – the Fräulein Doktor witnesses them unleashing a gas attack on soldiers in the opposing trenches, with naturally ghastly results. The aftermath of this event causes the Doktor to see the error of her ways, but go insane in the process, distraught by the horror she had indirectly inflicted. The conclusive “Fräulein Doktor Insanity and End Titles” revisits the gorgeous romantic main theme for the final time; elegant, classical, Morricone at his tender and emotional best

Focus on: Harpsichord, string sustain, percussion, machine gun sounds, piano, snare drum, brass, throat chorus.

Morricone’s score for the film is one of his more subtle ones, presenting a series of relaxing lounge music jazz tracks for orchestra, vocals, and jazz combo. The score often makes use of bossa nova, samba, and Euro-pop beats and grooves, giving it a very 1960s style, but it’s very richly textured, often just presenting simple repeated chords in a calm, relaxing manner . It’s also quite clever in the way he often uses little piano and string motifs that just sound a little off-kilter, not quite right, alluding to the rather precarious mental state of the protagonist Laura.

The title cue “La Donna Invisibile,” is gentle and softly romantic, but a little bittersweet, offering strings, piano and a jazz combo featuring a prominent muted trumpet. “Ritratto d’Autore” picks up a more contemporary guitar-led bossa-nova vibe, which plays an interesting staccato piano theme with a very clever, slightly anxious edge. “Silenziosamente” is almost hypnotic in the way it explores the simple music relationship between strings and a plucked bass. “La Moda” is a soft rock/pop intrumental with some terrific writing for trumpet and Hammond organ. The great Edda Dell’Orso lends her unmistakable voice to the seductive trio “In Un Sogn Il Sogno,” “Alla Serenitá,” and “Un Bacio,” the second of which is actually the film’s main title.

Focus on: Orchestra, Vocal, Jazz, Bossa Nova, Samba, Europop, Baby Piano, Strings, Piano, Jazz, Trumpet, More Modern Guitar, Bossa Nova, Staccato Piano, Plucked Bass , Hammond Organ, Edda Dell'Orso

Morricone’s score is very much rooted in his 1960s jazz style, and offers a series of soft, intimate instrumentals for orchestra and jazz combo, playing in a series of languid and laid-back ways. There’s not much recurring thematic content to speak of, but several cues do stand out as being especially enjoyable. The title trak “L’Assoluto Naturale” is very much like that, a pretty and summery theme that gets passed around between bass flutes, Hammond organ, and strings. The subsequent “Sempre Più Verità” and is a little more urgent, with a introductory rhythmic section that sounds for all the world like the intro to ‘Come on Eileen’ and a prominent staccato piano that eventually establishes itself as the score’s main recurring thematic idea.

Later, “È Facile” is beguilingly romantic, with a soft flute melody at its core. “Studio di Colore” has a more insistent jazz feeling, repeating the main theme, but blending it with a more toe-tapping arrangement for tapped hi-hats and a muted trumpet. This then continues on into subsequent tracks like “Il Profumo Della Tua Pelle,” “Amare Assolutamente,” “È la Solita Storia,” and “I’Estate è Vicina,” where the rhythmic theme is often carried by a piano, and which occasionally grow to quite impressively fulsome heights.

Only the conclusive “Assalito Dalle Rondini” stands out as being markedly different; here, Morricone engages in some quite dissonant writing for layers of aggressive, agitated, anguished strings, underscoring the film’s peculiar and poetically violent finale

, Focus on: jazz, orchestra, bass flute, hammond organ, strings, staccato piano, flute,

Morricone’s score is unusual in that it is comprised mostly of original songs rather than score; three beat/pop songs ( “Gloria”, “Tell Me Tell Me”, and “Laila Laila”) performed in Italian by Patrick Samson in a vocal style that only be described as ‘aggressively constipated’, and two lounge/symphonic compositions featuring the unmistakable vocals of Edda Dell’Orso (“Una Voce Allo Specchio,” the gorgeously ethereal “Sospendi Il Tempo”).

Morricone’s actual score I limited to just three cues: the groovy and enticing “Sytar”, which uses Indian ragas along with romantic orchestral strings to create an unusually compelling sound; “Dinamica Per 5+1,” which is unusual, gloomy, and apparently almost entirely improvised, comprising a series of unusual textures for bass guitar, percussion, piano, and a trumpet that is undergoing some sort of unspeakable torture; and “In Tre Quarti,” a lush and beautiful waltz that cleanses the score like a warm breeze.

My choice for the best release of the soundtrack is the CD release from British label Curci, which pairs is with five tracks from the film Vergogna Schifosi; there is also a 2008 release on the Fin de Siècle label which pairs both scores with music from the 1968 film Theorem. Overall, this is a weird one; good as a curio, and especially worthwhile if you’re an Edda dell’Orso aficionado.

Focus on: Indian ragas , Orchestra, Bass Guitar, Percussion, Piano, Trumpet, Waltz

Les Clan des Siciliens – The Sicilian Clan – is a French gangster film based on a novel by Auguste Le Breton, directed by the great Henri Verneuil. It stars Jean Gabin, Lino Ventura, and Alain Delon, and tells the story of a young and ambitious mobster who plans who an elaborate diamond heist, and then seduces the daughter of a ruthless mob box, all while trying to avoid the attentions of a determined police commissioner trying to end the crime spree.

Morricone’s score is dominated by the recurring main theme, “Il Clan dei Siciliani,” which sounds like it should be from one of his famous Spaghetti westerns rather than a mafia movie, but it’s just as great; a languid, nonchalant, almost insolent theme for electric guitar, Jew’s harp, percussion and a swooning string orchestra. The score features a number of interesting variations, including one in “Dialogo No.1” featuring Alessandro Alessandrini’s iconic whistle, and a couple of slightly more urgent and dynamic ones in “Jeanne e la Spiaggia” “Dialogo No.2” which really enhances the film’s overall noir mood.

When the main theme is not in full prominence, Morricone finds time to also contribute a superb piece of contemporary lounge jazz source music in Snack Bar,” a wonderfully vigorous piece of blistering action chase music in “Tema per le Goff,” and some tension-ratcheting suspense music in cues like “Mostra dei Gioielli,” which also uses the Jew’s harp to excellent effect.

The soundtrack release, on CAM Records, is only half an hour in length, initially came out in 1996 under its Italian-language title Il Clan dei Siciliani, and was re-issued again in 2005, but as far as I can tell has never or expanded in any way, and as such remains oddly under-the radar. The Sicilian Clan is definitely worth investigating, though, for its fascinating blend of styles, and especially for its memorable main theme.

Focus on: Jew’s harp, Electric guitar, percussion, string orchestra, Alessandro Alessandrini's signature whistle, contemporary lounge jazz source music

The cornerstone of Morricone’s score is, of course, the astonishing opening cue “Abolição,” a Portuguese word which means something like ‘abolition’ or ‘suppression’. The power of the piece of quite amazing – it begins with a church organ playing a simple repetitive melody, but then over the course of five minutes it gradually picks up a mixed voice choir chanting the word over and over, tribal percussion, electric guitar riffs, and even a flourish from a solo trumpet. By the end of the piece the ensemble has almost worked itself into a frenzy, calling for freedom and deliverance from oppression, that is just astonishing. Morricone performed the piece frequently in concert as an encore and it invariably brought the house down – how could it not?

The rest of the score is made up of half of dozen or so recurring themes, many of which receive variations and recapitulations as the score progresses. The Queimada Theme itself is actually a quite lovely piece in itself, taking both the orchestrations and the chanted word from “Abolição” but making it almost laid-back, tropical, and inviting, especially in the opening “Prima,” and later in “Pezzo Classico,” . Many of the other cues which feature the same stylistics are quite restrained, and sometimes tense, combining sinister strings with tribal percussion and vocals to illustrate the knife-edge political climate in the country; “Anche i Portoghesi Muoiono,” “Libertà,” “La Civiltà dei Bianchi,” the vivid “Seconda,” and “William e José” are excellent examples of this.

The “Verso Il Futuro” motif takes the secondary melody from “Abolição” arranges for electric guitars, and combined it with a somewhat bleak-sounding choral lament, although the choral harmonies in “#4” and “#7” are lovely. The theme for “José Dolores” is a simple, rustic piece for guitar, percussion, and Hammond organ, but the lovely string harmonies as the theme develops are really quite beautiful, and speak to his good heart and desire to lead his people to freedom. Later, “Generalissimmo” combines the José Dolores theme with the main Abolição choral element t excellent effect. The final standout piece is “Osanna,” a rich exploration of religious choral majesty interspersed with calm tribal drumbeats and statements of the “Abolição” motif in juxtaposition – again, the clash between the natives, the Portuguese, and the English. It’s quite brilliant.

Given its popularity, Queimada has been released on CD several times over the years, including a well-liked 1996 multi-score release from Vivi Musica which combines nine highlight cues with music from The Good the Bad and the Ugly, Il Mercenario, and La Resa dei Conti, among others. The release reviewed here is the 500-copy limited edition of the standalone score released in 2012 by GDM/Legend, which expands the running time to over an hour. This is an essential Morricone release, if for no other reason than “Abolição” being an all-time great.

Focus on: church organ, mixed voice choir, tribal percussion, electric guitar riff, solo trumpet, chant, strings, vocals, electric guitar, Hammond organ