Author: Reece Crothers

Morricone

The Morricone Collection: “Revolver” (1973)

Post author By Reece Crothers
Post date December 16, 2024

The Maestro around the time he composed the score for “**Revolver**.”

“Revolver” stars **Oliver** **Reed**, **Fabio** **Testi**, and their excellent coats.

The Album:

Not to be confused with Guy Ritchie’s film of the same name, most people will be familiar with Morricone’s excellent 1973 score for director Sergio Sollima’s poliziottesco “Revolver” through the standout track “Un Amico,” which Quentin Tarantino repurposed for his 2009 WWII opus, Inglourious Basterds.

**Morricone**-super-fan, **Quentin** **Tarantino**.

Other Editions:

The Film:

Synopsis from MoMA’s Ennio Morricone Film Series:

“Revolver. 1973. Italy/West Germany/France. Directed by Sergio Sollima. Screenplay by Dino Maiuri, Massimo De Rita, Sollima. With Oliver Reed, Fabio Testi, Agostina Belli, Paola Pitagora. In Italian; English subtitles. DCP. 111 min.

An Italian resistance fighter during World War II, Sergio Solima wrote and directed some of the most socially conscious Spaghetti Westerns The Big Gundown and political crime thrillers, or poliziotteschi, of the 1960s and ’70s. Revolver is a gripping example of the latter, the bitterly cynical story of a deputy prison warden (Oliver Reed) who becomes a pawn in a shadowy conspiracy when his wife is kidnapped by the mob and he’s forced to ally with a convict (Fabio Testi). The film boasts one of Ennio Morricone’s most propulsive scores, anticipating that of Brian De Palma’s The Untouchables. Quentin Tarantino, a giddy fan both of Solima and Morricone, quoted the beautiful “Un amico” for the climax of his Inglourious Basterds, the song that seems to capture a lover’s—or a criminal’s—inclination to hope against hope.”

Blu-ray review from cineoutsider.com:

Partners in crime

Oliver Reed is at his restrained best as a prison warden forced to facilitate a jailbreak in order to save his wife in REVOLVER, Sergio Sollima’s rivetingly handled 1973 crime drama. Slarek explores the film on Eureka’s new Blu-ray, and adds another favourite to an increasingly long list.

How’s this for a pre-title sequence? In the darkest of dark Italian nights, the sound of hurried footsteps and exhausted panting is revealed to belong to two men, one of whom is nursing a serious stomach wound and being helped along by his concerned companion. As they reach a row of parked cars, they pause and steal one of them, then speed off into the night to the sound of approaching sirens. As dawn breaks, the car stops at an isolated spot beside a river, and the driver helps his injured cohort out and onto the riverbank, where he bemoans the fact that he came all the way to Italy to be killed by a night watchman. Realising that his injury will soon prove fatal, the wounded man makes his companion promise not to let his body end up on an autopsy table at a morgue. Moments later, he dies, and the man that we by now know is a close and devoted friend mourns his loss with a farewell kiss. Then, as the opening titles unfold, he digs a hole by the riverside and buries his friend with the gun that probably led to his death. And so begins the 1973 Italian poliziotteschi Revolver, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who suspects an influence on the post-title scene of Reservoir Dogs.*If the above wasn’t enough to grab your attention – and it certainly did mine – then worry not, because the intrigue doesn’t stop there. In the next scene, wealthy oil magnate Harmakolos (Jean de Grave) walks out of his plush Parisian hotel and opts to walk instead of taking their car as suggested, dismisses his aide’s concerns about the recent threats to his life. He’s only a few hundred metres from the hotel when a motorcycle rider pulls up and shoots him dead. Elsewhere in the city, popular singer Al Niko (Daniel Beretta) is cheerfully batting away questions from the press about what his connection could be to this assassination as he arrives at police headquarters. Once inside the office on an unnamed Inspector (Marc Mazza), he is shown the wreck of a motorbike, which he recognises as one he bought a couple of years ago and gave to a former friend named Jean-Daniel Auger. It turns out that Jean-Daniel once worked for Harmakolos as his bodyguard and made threats against him after he was fired, and this was the bike ridden by his assassin. The vehicle and the mangled body of its rider were discovered on an unmanned level crossing in Jean-Daniel’s home town of Lyon, and a trip to the morgue sees Niko confirm that the body of the rider is indeed Jean-Daniel. To the Inspector’s coolly expressed relief, the Harmakolos case is thus officially closed.

Over in Italy, a well-dressed Frenchman (Frédéric de Pasquale) disembarks from his flight and is met outside the airport by two taciturn men in a black Mercedes – only later do we discover that the man has flown in from Paris, and that his name is Michel Granier. The purpose for his visit is not yet clear. Meanwhile, on a platform at the central Milan railway station, two Sicilians (Giovanni Pallavicino and Bernard Giraudeau) are approached and offered work by a dodgy-looking tout (Vittorio Pinelli). One of the men takes the tout’s card, looks briefly at it and hands it back. “No,” he says gruffly, “Got work.” Elsewhere in the same city, a woman visible only from the knees down takes off her shoes and steps onto the feet of a man, who begins walking down an apartment hallway, carrying her as he goes, as the two kiss and items of clothing fall to the floor. Eventually, these intimately entwined appendages are revealed to belong to Vito Cipriani (Oliver Reed) and his young wife Anna (Agostina Belli), who are clearly very much in love. We learn that Vito is a warden of the city’s prison when he is called into work the following morning in order to talk a crazed prisoner out of stabbing himself. When he arrives home with flowers of apology later, however, the apartment is empty and a phone call confirms that Anna has been kidnapped. If Vito wants to see her alive again, he’s assured, he must arrange the escape of an inmate named Milo Ruiz (Fabio Testi). It’s only when Vito asks to be taken to Milo’s cell that we discover he’s the man who buried his friend by the riverside in the opening sequence.

A lot of story threads are spun in these opening scenes, and while it is perfectly possible to draw a logical if speculative line of connection between them, not all is what it seems. Indeed, one of the many strengths of Revolver is its ability to continually surprise newcomers and catch them out. With that in mind, if you want to avoid having any of them spoilt even a little bit, then I’d skip the next paragraph, and eve n then proceed with a degree of caution, as it’s nigh on impossible to discuss the film in any more detail than I already have without giving a few things away. That said, I promise to keep the reveals to a minimum and avoid being explicit on later developments.

The first surprise comes when Vito follows a tip from Milo’s cellmate (Sal Borgese) and walks in on sleazy but wealthy criminal kingpin Grappa (Peter Berling). The expectation – my expectation –was that Grappa would get bolshy and the desperate Vito would lose his cool and smack the required information out of him. Instead, after a small bout of self-congratulatory verbal sparring, Grappa is fully cooperative and tells Vito what he knows without fuss, resistance or a hint of irritation, and Vito accepts that what he’s saying the truth and even offers him a small nod of appreciation. The second surprise comes when Vito returns to the jail and has Milo brought to his office, where he sets about viciously beating him about the face. On the surface this is an expression of his anger and frustration, but his actions are then revealed to have a secondary purpose, with the essentially superficial injuries inflicted on Milo providing a reason for him to be moved to the prison hospital, from where, Vito tells him, he will be able to affect his escape. This he does in a process that is lengthy enough to feel plausible, but Milo has only just hit the streets when a car screeches up beside him in a car and he’s ordered to get in at gunpoint by Vito. This gameplaying with expectations and genre convention sets the scene for a plot that rarely follows the predicted path. Thus, a colleague of Vito’s whose arrival looks set to expose his wrongdoing becomes an unexpected ally, a switch of fortune for both Vito and Milo is cancelled out by a surprise rebalancing of their relationship, and even the true reasons for Milo’s forced release prove to be more sinister than they initially seem.

That trademark **Oliver** **Reed** (nostril) flare.

The foundations are laid by a smartly constructed script by director Sollima, Arduino Maiuri and Massimo De Rita, and Sollima’s direction is tight, economic and purposeful, never flashy and always in service of the story and characters. Action scenes are rationed, but when they come they are blisteringly handled, their urgency enhanced by their sharp sense of realism, cinematographer Aldo Scavarda’s immaculate camera placement, and Sergio Montanari’s breathless editing. Adding a further layer of class is a typically fine score by Italian maestro Enno Morricone, one that hits all the right emotional buttons without overplaying them, and at one point feels like a trial run for the main theme of the composer’s score for The Untouchables (1987).

Even more crucial to audience engagement are the performances, the best of which comes from a top-of-form Oliver Reed, albeit with a small but curious caveat. As was often the way with Italian films of the period, particularly those with international casts, all of the dialogue was post-dubbed. And while there’s not a hint of mismatch between Reed’s on-screen delivery and his redubbing of his own voice, for reasons that no-one seems to be able to clarify, he elected to do the whole thing with an imperfect American accent. Given that his character name is Vito Cipriani and that he is a former police detective, we can assume that he is meant to be native Italian rather than Italian-American, and as all of the film’s dialogue was delivered in English with an eye on sales to the American market, for the life of me I can’t work out why he didn’t stick to his usual precise English delivery. The thing is, although this does initially feel a little odd, Reed is so bloody good in all other respects that after just a couple of minutes it ceases to matter. Everything else about his performance is sublime, peaking when he is visibly wrestling to keep his true feelings from exploding, and as so often with Reed, the potential for extreme violence can always be seen bubbling just beneath the surface. It’s a masterclass in restraint and emotional control, and up there with Reed’s very finest work on film. As Milo, Fabio Testi proves he’s more than just a handsome face, balancing the character’s cocky disposition with his increasing commitment to a cause he has been unwittingly recruited to help serve. Frédéric de Pasquale (who the two years previously played drug-smuggling TV personality Henri Devereaux in The French Connection) is appropriate unflustered as gangland middle-manager Michel Granier, and Paola Pitagora has a strong role as politically convicted people trafficker Carlotta. The supporting cast is also peppered with the sort of faces you only seem to find in European and East European cinema, providing the film with thugs who look and behave like the real deal, memorably when the Sicilians track down a potential witness and convincingly arrange his subsequent death to look like an accident.

I came to the cinema of Sergio Sollima via his superb 1967 western, Face to Face [Faccia a facia], and while Revolver is a very different work, it does share some of that film’s central themes. In both, two individuals with opposing moral values find themselves switching position over the course of the story, and like Face to Face, Revolver later moves into the area of political commentary, questioning the power structure of a system that protects the wealthy and is able to arrange the disposal of inconvenient elements of what it regards as the lower order. The result is a compellingly structured, impeccably directed, splendidly scored, and powerfully acted gem of Italian crime cinema, and one of the best films I’ve watched so far this year. It also pulls that rare trick of keeping you guessing right up to the final scene. Even the title is not what it initially seems, being a type of gun not used by the central protagonist, and likely instead intended to be read as a commentary on the transformative journey that Vito and his initially unwilling companion undertake over the course of the story.
sound and vision

Sourced from a new 4K restoration (that’s all the detail I have on this one), the 1080p transfer of Revolver on this Eureka Blu-ray is seriously impressive in all respects. Detail is very clearly defined, and the contrast is nicely balanced, nailing the black levels without crushing the shadows. The colour palette has a very slightly muted feel with a slight greenish hue, all of which look right for the film’s downbeat tone and very nicely captured by this transfer. The image is very clean, with no trace of dirt or damage, and a fine film grain is visible. Very nice.

Revolver was shot with the actors delivering their lines in English and their dialogue redubbed in post-production, and here you have the option to watch the film with either the English or Italian language tracks, both of which are Linear PCM 2.0 mono. The dynamic range is a little restricted on both – there are no deep bass thumps or rumbles here – and while voices seems to have slightly more breadth on the Italian track, they also sometimes have a more dubbed feel. Morricone’s music is of similar quality on both tracks, but differs during the opening titles, with the orchestral title theme of the English track turned into a song on the Italian track.

Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hearing impaired are available for the English language track, and a second set of optional English language subtitles kick in automatically if you select the Italian language track. Both seem fine, but there is a small omission here, at least on the review disc (it may be adjusted on the release disc). At one point, Vito reads a note written in Italian, and at another the Inspector looks down at a newspaper headline written in French. If you watch the film with the Italian soundtrack, the subtitles offer English translations of both. If you watch the film with the English language track, however, even with the hearing impaired subtitles enabled, no such translations are provided. Fortunately, it’s just a matter of switching between the subtitle tracks if your French or Italian are as weak as mine, and you don’t need to read either to understand what’s going on. It’s also worth noting (again, we’re talking review disc here) that there is no option on the menu to activate hearing impaired subs, but they can be switched on using the disc player’s remote control.

Special Features

Audio Commentary by Barry Forshaw and Kim Newman
Author of Italian Cinema: Arthouse to Exploitation, and a ton of others, joins author, critic and genre commentary favourite Kim Newman to explore a film that they were both impressed by and rate above the poliziotteschi norm. Individual scenes and plot turns are discussed, as is Ennio Morricone’s score, and the work on this film and others of director Sergio Sollima, particularly his 1970 Violent City [Città violenta] (for which there are spoilers). They opine that Fabio Testi was an actor with a limited range but what he could do he did well, and praise the rare depth and strength (at least for this genre) of the Carlotta character played by Paola Pitagora. But the lion’s share of the discussion is focussed on Oliver Reed, whose performance here both men rank as one of his best, and whose work on this and other key films in his career is covered in considerable detail. There’s a lot more discussed here, all of it compelling and acutely observed, and these two really know their Italian crime cinema.

Stephen Thrower on ‘Revolver’ (21:59)
Nightmare USA author Stephen Thrower examines the work of director Sergio Sollima, with particular focus on Revolver, though also covers the director’s segment in the multi-story L’amore difficile (1962), and his westerns The Big Gundown [La resa dei conti] (1966) and Face to Face [Faccia a facia] (1967). Like Forshaw and Newman above, he’s full of praise for the film, for Sollima’s skilled direction, and for Oliver Reed’s central performance. Like them, he’s also confused by the decision to have Reed play the whole thing with a not completely convincing American accent, but argues that the story and the acting are so good that you soon forget about it, a point on which I am in complete agreement.

Tough Girl (10:21)
Actor Paola Pitagora, who plays Carlotta, recalls working with Oliver Reed, who was an idol of hers but used to start drinking early on in the morning, which sometimes caused problems on set, though she does note that he was always top-notch on camera. She intriguingly describes Sergio Sollima as “a war machine,” as someone who was focussed and meticulous but also funny, and Fabio Testi as gorgeous, very enthusiastic, and focussed on his role. She praises the film scores of Ennio Morricone, though admits her admiration for the composer was soured a little by his claim that women all belonged in the kitchen, and has a revealing story about how Reed’s drinking ultimately cut short her role in the film. She also opines that for her, at least as an audience member, genre cinema begins and ends with Thomas Milian.

Action Man (17:07)
An archival interview with actor Fabio Testi, shot in June of 2006 and redressed with new opening titles and credits for this release, and the remastering of what looks like analogue video to HD. Testi looks back at how his work as a stuntman eventually led to him being cast – and doing all of the stunts – in Demofilo Fidani’s 1968 western, And Now… Make Your Peace with God [Ed ora… raccomanda l’anima a Dio!], and how this prompted him to enrol in acting school and embark on a successful career in films and theatre. He manages to top Paola Pitagora’s description of Sergio Sollima with his claim that “he works like a martial artist, every shot is like a sabre blow,” notes how Italian cinema lost its political edge after the arrival of commercial television and a slew of American imports, and remarks that it’s nice that people remember him despite his age, which would have been 64 when this interview was shot. And he still looks damned good here.

English Credits (6:23)
When you select to watch the English language version of the feature, the credits are in the original Italian, so the opening and closing credits of the English language version have been included as an extra.

Original Theatrical Trailer (3:40)
A trailer that really pushes the film’s crime thriller credentials, and employs a trick later favoured by American distributors to sell non-English language films to a potentially subtitle-averse audience by including no audible dialogue – characters speak, but all we hear is Morricone’s score and a few gunshots.

International Trailer (1:15)
Sold here under its original American title of Blood on the Streets, the US trailer sports a seriously toned but hyperbolic narration that includes the news that the film stars “Oliver Reed in a performance that makes Charles Bronson’s Death Wish look like…wishful thinking,” which I have no problem with at all.

Radio Spots (1:33)
Two radio spots pushing the American release, the second considerably longer than the first and both proclaiming that “This is a story of a day all the guns went off.” Er, not quite.
Also included with the release version is a Limited Edition Collector’s Bookletfeaturing two new essays by author Howard Hughes – one covering the background to the making of Revolver – and an extensive piece on Ennio Morricone’s ‘Eurocrime’ soundtracks, but this was not available for review.

Summary
A tightly directed and terrific poliziotteschi that is more thoughtful and restrained than the genre norm, and boasts an excellent performance by Oliver Reed, despite the enduring mystery of that American accent. As is noted in the commentary, it seems likely that the film was at the very least an unconscious influence on the likes of 48Hrs and Midnight Run, but it absolutely holds its own as a compellingly handled and impressively unpredictable crime thriller almost 50 years after it was made. Eureka’s Blu-ray spots a first-rate transfer and some fine special features, including an excellent commentary track. Highly recommended.

The Director:

Sergio Sollima (17 April 1921 – 1 July 2015) was an Italian film director and script writer.

Biography

Sollima graduated from the Centro Sperimentale di Cinematografia in 1935. During World War II he was in the Italian Resistance.^[1]

Sollima (r) with his “Faccia a Faccia” stars Gian Maria Volonte (l) and Tomas Milian (c).

After the war, he gradually progressed from working as a film critic to screenwriting to becoming a director^[2] Like many Italian cult directors, Sollima started his career as a screenwriter in the 1950s and wrote many peplum films in the 1960s. He made his directing debut doing one of the four sequences in the anthology film Of Wayward Love. Sollima filmed three Eurospy films and then moved to spaghetti westerns. The Big Gundown (starring Lee Van Cleef and Tomas Milian) was released in 1966 with big success, despite the fact that it had to compete with Sergio Leone‘s The Good, the Bad and the Ugly and Sergio Corbucci‘s Django. Sollima soon filmed two more westerns. Face to Face (Milian and Gian Maria Volonté) was released in 1967 and Run, Man, Run! (Milian) in 1968. Although Sollima directed only three westerns and they never reached the level of popularity as the ones by the other Sergios (Leone and Corbucci), each of them is highly regarded among genre enthusiasts.

In 1970, Sollima switched genres again and directed the Charles Bronson and Telly Savalas starred Violent City, which was one of the first violent and fast-paced Italian crime films often known as poliziotteschi. Like for all of his westerns, the soundtrack was provided by Ennio Morricone. Sollima’s last well-known film is Revolver, a poliziotteschi film starring Oliver Reed and Fabio Testi.

Sollima directed the six-part Italian TV series Sandokan starring Kabir Bedi with several feature films spun off the series.

Selected filmography

Tripoli, Beautiful Land of Love (1954)
Agent 3S3: Passport to Hell (1965)
Agent 3S3, Massacre in the Sun (1966)
Requiem for a Secret Agent (1966)
The Big Gundown (1967)
Face to Face (1967)
Run, Man, Run (1968)
Violent City (1970)
Devil in the Brain (1972)
Revolver (1973)
Sandokan (1976, TV miniseries)
The Black Corsair (1976)
La tigre è ancora viva: Sandokan alla riscossa! (1977)

References

p. 93 Fisher, Austin Radical Frontiers in the Spaghetti Western: Politics, Violence and Popular Italian Cinema I.B.Tauris, 6 Feb 2014
Vivarelli, Nick (3 July 2015). “Sergio Sollima, Italian Director Best Known Internationally For Spaghetti Westerns, Dies at 94”. Variety. Retrieved 6 April 2019.

External links

Sergio Sollima at IMDb

Posters:

German poster. Also includes the alternate English title “**Blood In The Streets**.”

Links:

Purchase a copy of the vinyl at Discogs here:

Watch the trailer from Eureka Classics here:

REVOLVER (Eureka Classics) New & Exclusive Trailer

If you’re in the Toronto area, stop in and say hi to my Filmography podcast co-host, at “the last great video store,” Bay Street Video, and find a copy of “Revolver” in store, or if outside of Toronto, online here:

https://baystreetvideo.com/title.php?page=1&title=Revolver

Watch the film for free here:

Revolver (1973) di Sergio Sollima (film completo ITA)

Purchase the film on Amazon here:

https://www.amazon.ca/Revolver-Oliver-Reed/dp/B000096IA3

Tags Amazon, Bay Street Video, Bjorn Olson, Blood In The Streets, Cineoutsider, Discogs, Ennio Morricone, Fabio Testi, Faccia a Faccia, Guy Ritchie, Inglourious Basterds, MoMA, Morricone, Oliver Reed, Quentin Tarantino, Revolver, Sergio Sollima, The Filmography, Un Amico

Morricone

The Morricone Collection: “Hornet’s Nest” (1970)

Post author By Reece Crothers
Post date December 15, 2024

The Album:

Jonathan Broxton’s review from moviemusicuk.us

https://moviemusicuk.us/2021/02/07/ennio-morricone-reviews-part-ix/

Other Editions:

From the Quartet Records’ CD booklet:

The Film:

Brian Hannan’s review for themagnificent60s.com:

“Given exceedingly short shrift in its day. Viewed as in exceptionally poor taste. Marketed in some respects as Lord of the Flies Meets The Dirty Dozen. Audiences accepting of kids putting on a show or, the modern equivalent, making a movie, not so keen on youngsters going to war. In any case there’s an inbuilt repugnance as you get the distinct impression some of these kids would have been ideal recruits for Hitler Youth or the Mussolini version. And Italy, one-time ally of Hitler, becoming suddenly heroic seemed to jibe. Not to mention Rock Hudson’s marquee value fading fast after a gigantic turkey called Darling Lili (1969). Despite some distinctly unsavory aspects, bordering on exploitation, this seems enormously underrated, not just as an actioner, but for a raw depiction of war, far more realistic than many in the genre that toplined on violence.

Sure, it’s an odd concept, Italian kids, in the absence of adults, turned into a fighting force by dint of letting loose their innate venality and savagery. But they’ve not been washed up, adult-free, on a desert island. This small bunch have been orphaned and bloodily. Germans on the hunt for local partisans execute an entire village and then, finding a quisling, proceed to massacre the local resistance and for good measure destroy a team of American parachutists dropped into the area to facilitate the Allied advance.

The kids come across the one survivor, Turner (Rock Hudson), hide him from the enemy and dupe German doctor Bianca (Sylva Koscina), sympathetic to the plight of the innocent, into caring for the wounded soldier. Rather than hang around and accept the ministrations of such a beauty and see out the war with a view to possible romance, Turner is intent on single-handedly completing his mission of blowing up a dam.

Given the kids have amassed a secret armory and are trigger-happy, desperate to avenge their parents, and getting down to the gung-ho aspects of war, Turner, with appalling disregard for their safety, decides to commandeer them for his own unit. Bianca objects and watches with horror and for most of the rest of the picture confines herself to the pair too young to be considered combatants and who reek of desolation or to find ways of killing Turner or betraying him to the Germans.

Meanwhile, the kids have their own ruthless leader, Aldo (Mark Colleano), one part John Wayne, one part the creepy Maggott (Telly Savalas in case you’ve forgotten) from The Dirty Dozen, who objects to taking orders. Training consists of little more than a bit of marching in file and learning how to quickly reload a machine gun. Turner’s clever plan is to use their perceived innocence to distract the Germans guarding the dam. The distraught Bianca, stepping out of line once too often, is raped for her trouble.

*Oddly enough, Koscina does take a machine gun to the Germans, which you would have thought would be catnip to the marketeers, but that image is excluded from the poster.*

Setting aside all audience misgivings about the premise and the sexual undertones, the mission is very well done, plenty tension, a workable plan, and the eventual dam-burst impressive on the budget.

But the misgivings are not glossed over. There’s a dicey moment when it looks as if the kids, crawling all over the nurse, tearing off her clothes, are about to embark on mass juvenile rape. And the bloodlust will only be slaked when, by dint of secreting the detonators essential to the plan, they force Turner to lead them on a raid on the Germans, tossing hand grenades into houses and opening fire from the back of a truck on the unsuspecting enemy.

Aldo, in particular, gets a taste for killing and in a later battle doesn’t hold back when one of his comrades inadvertently gets in his way.

Sold as a junior edition of a mission picture, the trailer would have probably been enough to put off large sections of the audience, uncomfortable with kids being employed in such mercenary fashion. Kids grow up in war but not that fast seemed to be the general reaction. Okay if they’re portrayed as victims, less acceptable as gun-happy butchers.

So, the best elements of the movie is in not avoiding such misgivings. It was soon clear from the American experience – though this is not specifically alluded to – that hordes of kids in Vietnam were going down this route. The point at which kids cross over into bloody adulthood and lose the essence of childhood is dealt with too. That scene on the face of it and in isolation appears maudlin but in the context of the picture works very well. But the violence or its aftermath are not the most striking images. Again and again, the camera returns to the dirty, clothes-tattered, Bianca clutching the two infants, the detritus of conflict.

Setting aside his moustachioed muscle, Rock Hudson (Seconds, 1966) gives a well-judged performance and Sylva Koscina (A Lovely Way To Die, 1968), shorn of glamor, holds the emotional center. Mark Colleano (The Boys of Paul St, 1968) gives a vicious impression of a young hood on the rise. Directed by sometime cult director Phil Karlson (A Time for Killing, 1967) from a script by S.S. Schweitzer (Change of Habit, 1969) and producer Stanley Colbert. Great score from Ennio Morricone.

It’s worth pointing out that the idea of kids taking up arms received positive critical approval when it was applied to such an arthouse darling as If… (1969) but of course they were public schoolboys forced into action by bad teachers and in reaction to “the establishment” and not after seeing their families slaughtered. Double standards, methinks.

Worth reassessment.”

The Director:

From Wikipedia:

Phil Karlson

Born	Philip N. Karlstein July 2, 1908 Chicago, Illinois, U.S.
Died	December 12, 1982 (aged 74) Los Angeles, California, U.S.
Alma mater	School of the Art Institute of Chicago Loyola Marymount University
Occupation	Film director

Phil Karlson (born Philip N. Karlstein; July 2, 1908 – December 12, 1982) was an American film director. Later noted as a film noir specialist, Karlson directed 99 River Street, Kansas City Confidential and Hell’s Island, all with actor John Payne, in the early 1950s.^[1]

Other films include The Texas Rangers (1951), The Phenix City Story (1955), 5 Against the House (1955), Gunman’s Walk (1958), The Young Doctors (1961) and Walking Tall(1973).

Biography

Early life

Karlson was the son of Irish actress Lillian O’Brien.^[2] His father was Jewish.^[3]

He attended Marshall High School and studied painting at Chicago’s Art Institute. He tried to make a living as a song and dance man but was unsuccessful. Then he studied law, at his father’s request, at Loyola Marymount University in California. He took a part-time job at Universal Pictures “washing toilets and dishes and whatever the hell they gave me” according to Karlson.^[4] He also sold some gags to Buster Keaton. Eventually he decided to pursue a career in film, quitting college a year before graduation.^[5]

Assistant Director at Universal

Karlson got a job at Universal Pictures, doing a variety of jobs.

He worked as assistant director on Destry Rides Again (1932) and My Pal, the King with Tom Mix; The Countess of Monte Cristo(1934) and Cheating Cheaters (1934) with Fay Wray; I Like It That Way (1934); Romance in the Rain (1934); and Strange Wives(1934), directed by Richard Thorpe.

He worked on The Mystery of Edwin Drood (1935) with Claude Rains; Princess O’Hara (1935); Alias Mary Dow (1935), for Kurt Neumann; Werewolf of London (1935); Sing Me a Love Song (1935); She Gets Her Man (1935); The Affair of Susan (1935); Love Before Breakfast (1936), with director Walter Lang; The Girl on the Front Page (1936); and Top of the Town (1937).

Karlson said that Sam Goldwyn put him under contract intending to use him as a director, but Karlson wound up spending nine months idle. He asked for a release of his contract and got it.^[4] He joined a company of Maurice Kosloff.^[6]

He went back to Universal where he worked as an assistant on The Black Doll (1938); The Case of the Missing Blonde (1938); The Last Express (1938); His Exciting Night (1938), The Last Warning (1938), Newsboys’ Home (1938), and Society Smugglers (1939), directed by Joe May.

His credits became more distinguished: Rio (1939), with Basil Rathbone, directed by John Brahm; The Invisible Man Returns (1940) and The House of the Seven Gables for May; I Can’t Give You Anything But Love, Baby (1940), a musical; You’re Not So Tough(1940), for May; Margie (1940), Seven Sinners (1940), with John Wayne and Marlene Dietrich for director Tay Garnett; Where Did You Get That Girl? (1941), for Arthur Lubin; and The Flame of New Orleans (1941), with Dietrich for René Clair.

Karlson did In the Navy (1941) with Abbott and Costello for Lubin, and he became friendly with Lou Costello, often pitching him gags.^[4] He worked on It Started with Eve (1941) for Henry Koster with the studio’s other big star, Deanna Durbin.

Karlson quit Universal in 1940 to enlist in the U.S. Army Air Forces. In 1943, he was injured in a plane crash ending his career as a flight instructor.^[5]

Monogram Pictures

Karlson, still using his real name of Philip Karlstein, took a job at Monogram Pictures, as an assistant director. He was contacted by Lou Costello, who wanted to produce a film and offered Karlstein the job of directing it. The resulting movie was A Wave, a WAC and a Marine (1944), starring comedian Henny Youngman.^[5] Karlson called it “probably the worst picture ever made… a nothing picture, but I was lucky because it was for Monogram and they didn’t understand how bad it was, because they had never made anything that was any good.”^[4] However, Karlson did like his second film as director, G. I. Honeymoon (1945), with Gale Storm, which received an Oscar nomination for Best Music.

Karlson made Monogram’s low-budget productions look much more expensive by being creative with the staging. He used light and shadow to add mood to ordinary dialogue scenes, and employed careful camera angles to maximize the size of the limited sets. Karlson’s resourcefulness made him Monogram’s choice to launch a new series (The Bowery Boys, The Shadow) or invigorate an existing one (Charlie Chan). An excellent example is Karlson’s Charlie Chan mystery The Shanghai Cobra (1945) in which the director, given a small exterior set, established a film noir atmosphere by shooting the scene at night during a rainstorm. Karlson was well aware of Monogram’s budgetary limitations: “They knew what they were doing, because there was a certain class of picture they were going to make and they weren’t going to make anything any different.”^[4]

Slightly more distinguished was Wife Wanted (1946) which starred and was produced by Kay Francis. Both she and Karlson disliked the original script so they rewrote it together. It turned out to be Francis’s last movie.^[5] He followed it with Kilroy Was Here (1947), co-starring former child actors Jackie Cooper and Jackie Coogan.

Karlson received acclaim for Black Gold (1947), a story of the plight of the American Indian, based around the true story of the racehorse Black Gold. It was an early lead for Anthony Quinn and the first film released by Monogram’s new, higher-budget division, Allied Artists. Karlson took a year to make that film because he wanted seasonal shots; he says he directed four films while also making Black Gold.^[4]

Karlson then made Louisiana (1947) with governor Jimmie Davis.^[7] He followed this with Rocky (1948) with Roddy McDowall.

Columbia

Karlson went over to Columbia Pictures where he directed two Westerns, Above All Laws (1947) and Fury (1948). He then made Ladies of the Chorus (1948), with Marilyn Monroe in her first substantial role.

British production company Eagle-Lion Films hired Karlson to direct The Big Cat (1949), which he later described as his answer to The Grapes of Wrath (1940).^[4] While at Eagle-Lion Karlson also did Down Memory Lane (1949) with Steve Allen, shot in two days.^[5]

Edward Small

Karlson teamed with producer Edward Small for The Iroquois Trail (1950) with George Montgomery, based on The Last of the Mohicans. Small liked Karlson’s work and used him on Lorna Doone (1951), an adaptation of the famous novel with Richard Greene, and The Texas Rangers (1951), a Western with Montgomery.^[8]

These films were distributed by Columbia, who used Karlson for Mask of the Avenger (1951), a swashbuckler with John Derek. For Small he did Scandal Sheet (1952), a newspaper melodrama from a novel by Sam Fuller, and The Brigand (1952), another swashbuckler.^[9]

Karlson started directing Assignment: Paris (1952) for Columbia in Paris but was fired by studio head Harry Cohn during filming and replaced by Robert Parrish.^[5]

Karlson bounced back with two films for Edward Small starring John Payne that were released through United Artists: Kansas City Confidential (1952) and 99 River Street (1953).

Karlson did episodes of The Revlon Mirror Theater (1953) and did all episodes of the TV series Waterfront (1954).

Karlson was invited back to Columbia to do a Western They Rode West (1954) and a film noir Tight Spot (1955). He also directed episodes of Ford Television Theatre and Studio 57.

After making Hell’s Island (1955) with John Payne for Paramount Pictures, he did 5 Against the House (1955), a heist movie at Columbia, which gave Kim Novak one of her first roles.

Karlson returned to Monogram (now known as Allied Artists) to make The Phenix City Story (1955), based on the murder of Albert Patterson. It was a hit and came to be regarded as one of his best movies. He went back to Columbia for The Brothers Rico (1957), a thriller, and Gunman’s Walk (1958), a Western.

Desi Arnaz hired Karlson to direct the pilot for the TV series The Untouchables (1959), later released theatrically as The Scarface Mob. Although The Untouchables had a long run on TV, Karlson only received a straight salary for his work on the pilot.^[5]

1960s

Karlson was Albert R. Broccoli and Harry Saltzman‘s first choice to direct their first James Bond film Dr. No (1962), but they were forced to decline him after he asked for too high of a salary.^[10]

For Allied Artists he did a war biopic Hell to Eternity (1960), followed by Key Witness (1960). Both starred Jeffrey Hunter.

Karlson directed The Secret Ways (1961) from a novel by Alistair MacLean, although he clashed with star-producer Richard Widmark. He made a melodrama, The Young Doctors (1961);^[11] an Elvis Presley film, Kid Galahad (1962); and Rampage (1963), an adventure story with Robert Mitchum. He directed the pilot for a TV series about Alexander the Great with William Shatner that was not picked up and did uncredited work on Ride the Wild Surf (1964).

Karlson enjoyed a big hit with the first Matt Helm movie with Dean Martin, The Silencers (1966). It was made by Columbia who asked Karlson to take over from Roger Corman on A Time for Killing (1967). He returned to the Matt Helm movies for the fourth and final one, The Wrecking Crew (1968), co-starring Sharon Tate and Elke Sommer.

1970s

Karlson made a war movie in Europe with Rock Hudson, Hornets’ Nest (1970). He did a horror movie, Ben (1972), best remembered for its Michael Jackson theme song.

He had a huge success in 1973 with Walking Tall, the fact-based story of a crusading sheriff Buford Pusser in the most corrupt county in Tennessee.^[12] It was a major domestic and international hit, costing $500,000 and grossing more than $23 million. It also made Karlson a fortune, thanks to the fact that he owned a large percentage of it.^[5]

His last film was Framed (1975) with Joe Don Baker.^[13]

Career appraisal

Wheeler Winston Dixon later wrote of Karlson:

[He] emerges as a violent American original, born and brought up in Chicago, used to violence as a way of life, someone who was forced to make a great many films that he didn’t believe in, just so that he could finally get a free hand with the minor studios to make the films that he did … In Karlson’s best films, a truly bleak vision of American society is readily apparent; a world where everything is for sale, where no one can be trusted, where all authority is corrupt, and honest men and women have no one to turn to but themselves if they want any measure of justice. For Karlson, everything comes with a price – in blood, death, and betrayal. … In his finest work, Karlson seems to be saying “don’t you believe what they tell you. Authority figures only look out for themselves. There are no easy answers. You won’t get what you deserve, and you won’t even get what you fight for. You’ll get what you can take, and that’s got to be enough.”^[5]

The Academy Film Archive has preserved his films Tight Spot and Scandal Sheet.^[14]

In 2019, Karlson’s film The Phenix City Story was selected by the Library of Congress for preservation in the National Film Registryfor being “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant”.^[15]

Partial filmography

1944: A Wave, a WAC and a Marine
1945: There Goes Kelly
1945: G.I. Honeymoon
1945: The Shanghai Cobra
1946: Live Wires
1946: Swing Parade of 1946
1946: Dark Alibi
1946: Bowery Bombshell
1946: Wife Wanted
1947: Louisiana
1947: Kilroy Was Here
1948: Thunderhoof
1948: Ladies of the Chorus
1949: The Big Cat
1950: The Iroquois Trail
1951: Lorna Doone
1951: The Texas Rangers
1951: Mask of the Avenger
1952: Scandal Sheet
1952: The Brigand
1952: Kansas City Confidential
1953: 99 River Street
1954: They Rode West
1955: Tight Spot
1955: Hell’s Island
1955: 5 Against the House
1955: The Phenix City Story
1957: The Brothers Rico
1958: Gunman’s Walk
1960: Hell to Eternity
1961: The Secret Ways
1961: The Young Doctors
1962: Kid Galahad
1963: Rampage
1966: The Silencers
1967: A Time for Killing
1969: The Wrecking Crew
1970: Hornets’ Nest
1972: Ben
1973: Walking Tall
1975: Framed

References

Hal Erickson (2016). “Phil Karlson”. Movies & TV Dept. The New York Times. Archived from the original on March 3, 2016.
“Phil Karlson”. Tcm.com. Retrieved July 8, 2009.
Conesr, John W. (October 8, 2012). Patterns of Bias in Hollywood Movies. Algora Publishing. pp. 85, 93, and 98. ISBN 9780875869582.
Todd McCarthy and Richard Thompson. “Phil Karlson: Interview, November 19, 1973” Kings of the Bs; Working Within the Hollywood System, eds. Todd McCarthy and Charles Flynn (New York: E.P. Dutton, 1975), pp. 327-345. Rpt. Cine Resort, Oct. 7 2014
Dixon, Wheeler Winston (June 2017). “Phil Karlson: The Forgotten Master of Film Noir”. Senses of Cinema.
“Kosloff Forms Film Company: New Organization Will Produce Musicals Featuring Youngsters” Los Angeles Times 16 Dec 1937: 8.
“LOUISIANA GOVERNOR SUCCEEDS AS ACTOR” Scott, John L. Los Angeles Times 2 Mar 1947: B1
“Oriental setting for new Grable musical”. The Australian Women’s Weekly. Vol. 18, no. 3. June 24, 1950. p. 44. Retrieved October 5, 2017 – via National Library of Australia.

Posters:

Stills:

Lobby Cards:

Links:

Listen to the complete score here:

Complete score on YouTube.

Purchase the vinyl on Discogs here:

Watch the film’s trailer here:

Trailer on YouTube.

If you are in Toronto, stop in at “the last great video store,” Bay Street Video, say hi to my Filmography podcast co-host, Bjorn, and find a copy of “Hornet’s Nest” on blu-ray in store or online:

Or purchase the DVD on Amazon here:

https://www.amazon.ca/Hornets-Nest-Rock-Hudson/dp/B007232B5K

Watch sequences from the film here:

Tags Amazon, Bay Street Video, Bjorn Olson, Discogs, Ennio Morricone, Morricone, Rock Hudson, The Filmography

Morricone

The Morricone Collection: “La Califfa” (1970)

Post author By Reece Crothers
Post date December 9, 2024

*This post is dedicated to Ewa, who suggested it.

The Album:

Other Editions:

The Film:

The Lady Caliph herself, Romy Schneider.

The Director:

From Wikipedia:

Alberto Bevilacqua (27 June 1934 – 9 September 2013)^[1] was an Italian writer and filmmaker. Leonardo Sciascia, an Italian writer and politician, who read Bevilacqua’s first collection of stories, The Dust on the Grass (1955), was impressed and published it. Mario Colombi Guidotti, responsible for the literary supplement of the Journal of Parma, began to publish his stories in the early 1950s.

Friendship Lost, his first book of poems, was published in 1961. Caliph, published in 1964, was his breakthrough novel. The protagonist, Irene Corsini, imbued with his own sweet and energetic temperament, is one of the strongest female characters in Italian literature. His novel This Kind of Love won the Campiello Prize in 1966. In both This Kind of Love and Caliph, Bevilacqua oversaw the adaptations and productions of the film versions. This Kind of Love won Best Film at Cannes.

The author with his books. It’s actually hard to find images of Bevilacqua WITHOUT his books in the shot, for which I love him.

Bevilacqua was also a poet. His writings have been translated throughout Europe, the United States, Brazil, China and Japan. In 2010, his seven “stories” as he liked to call them, were included in the Novels volume of the prestigious series “I Meridiani.”^[2]

Bevilacqua directed seven films between 1970 and 1999. His 1970 film La califfa was entered into the 1971 Cannes Film Festival.^[3]

Bevilacqua, aged 79, died in Rome on 9 September 2013 from cardiac arrest.^[4] He had been hospitalized since 11 October 2012 for heart failure.^[1]

Posters:

The Novel:

Translation of back cover (according to Google):

The story of the passions and rebellion of a beautiful, authentic and proud woman, against the backdrop of a city - Parma - and its stream, which symbolically separated the poor from the rich.

Califfa is a beautiful girl of popular origin who becomes the lover of Annibale Doberdò: the most powerful industrialist in the city, a sort of Mastro-don Gesualdo, authoritative and unscrupulous. Memorable portrait of a free woman, fundamentally healthy and, in her own way, innocent. Califfa is a lover without servility in whose loving frankness the industrialist finds, in a crucial point of his existence, a new desire for life and his own freedom. All the powerful people in his court arm themselves against this relationship, but only Doberdo's sudden death will end it. And Califfa will return to her neighborhood of origin, alone, but with the awareness of having contributed to transforming not only the soul and intimacy of a man, but also the social aspect of a city.
«Central novel» in the 1960s, for its clear literary success and because it testifies, through some great protagonists, to the splendors and miseries of that Italian economic miracle that would inspire the best fiction and the best cinema of the time.
The novel's notoriety was amplified by the film shot by Alberto Bevilacqua himself and starring an unforgettable Romy Schneider together with Ugo Tognazzi.

By Alberto Bevilacqua. Einaudi published La polvere sull'erba (2000), his first novel, unpublished since 1955, the year in which it was written, Viaggio al principio del giorno (2001), La Pasqua Rossa (2003), Storie della mia storia (2007) and the collections of poems: Piccole questioni di eternità (2002), Tu che mi ascolti (2005), Duetto per voce sola (2008).

The Morricone Collection: “Battle of Algiers” (1967)

Post author By Reece Crothers
Post date December 5, 2024

Morricone (l, w/ trumpet) served as Best Man at “Battle of Algiers” director Gillo Pontecorvo’s (next to the Maestro) wedding.

**Pontecorvo** (l) pals around with Best Man **Morricone** (r).

This original 1967 United Artists release of the soundtrack to “Battle of Algiers” was co-written by the film’s director, Gillo Pontecorvo (“Burn” – also scored by Morricone), with orchestra direction by frequent Morricone collaborator (and distinguished composer in his own right) Bruno Nicolai (“The Red Queen Kills 7 Times“).

Album cover for **Bruno Nicolai’s “The Red Queen Kills 7 Times.”**

Album review from main titles.net:

“La Battaglia di Algeri (The Battle of Algiers) is a film made in 1966 by Gillo Pontecorvo, with whom Morricone also teamed up for Queimada and Ogro. The political film depicts the beginning of the actions from the National Liberation Front in Algiers against the French colonists, which would eventually lead to their aimed independence in 1962. Above all, it’s a honest piece of cinema, that does not choose sides and which is made in the Italian neo-realism tradition with gorgeous black and white cinematography. It’s an important Morricone film, made in a period which is generally accepted as the most creative period of the composer. Yet, both the film and score never gained so much praises as the more popular projects and that truly hurts.

The most evocative musical idea for the score is the theme for Ali. Pontecorvo was finding it difficult to establish the musical themes for the score and recorded some on his own and presented them to Morricone. The maestro did not want to use them. During the creative process the director unconsciously whistled the themes in the presence of the composer, which had triggered Morricone. Some time later Morricone presented those same themes to the director, pretending not to remember their origins. This is the reason the music is credited as ‘music by Ennio Morricone and Gillo Pontecorvo’. The classic theme of Ali is based on a simple 4 note motif that is performed by a solo flute and accompanied by the orchestra, as can be heard on the 3 minute treatment Tema di Ali. There are also renditions for the orchestra alone, which lack the subtlety and fragility of the solo flute, but are equally strong. Its simplicity proves incredibly powerful, especially in the beginning of the film as Ali is arrested by the French. The intense black and white close-up of Ali is supported by the fragile notes of the motif, which creates one of the most iconic and most beautiful scenes in the history of cinema.

Another element of the score mainly reflects the French from a musical point of view, which is atypical Morricone martial music, mostly in the form of a march. The aggressive rhythm and harsh percussion, piano and brass elements brilliantly depict the military undertakings of the French to overthrow the Algerian resistance. Algeri: 1 Novembre 1954 is a march that Morricone has often included in his concert programs. Some of the actions of the French, who torture, are countered by the the Algerians who detonating bombs; both featurestark rhythmic musical pieces that appear to have been written from a musical neutral zone, while there are certainly hints of both musical worlds. These moments are dictated by the typical frenetic tension building that only Morricone could write.

Occasionally Morricone comments on the aftermath of a retaliation by using an organ. It are these kind of small moments that are equally beautiful to the theme of Ali. Other noteworthy moments are the moving intimacy of the woodwinds in the track Matrimonio clandestinoe and subtle melancholy on Gennaio 1957: Accerchiamento della Casbah.

Clearly, Morricone score is perfect for the film, but I did have problems with the use of music some years ago. The fact that the neo-realism approach generally avoids any kind of dramatic manipulation made it rather difficult to accept that the score often became a bit obtrusive. By now I have somehow accepted this wholly and like the directness of the music.

This release by Quartet records is essentially the same as the cd GDM released in 2005, but all of the music is remastered and now includes liner notes. You can clearly hear it sounds better than ever before, which can be a good reason to purchase this release of a classic work. The 2005 release is becoming a rare item and often does not come very cheap on the second-hand market. I can honestly say I would rather want a reissue of a good score with better sound quality, than a Morricone release that only offers a few uninteresting alternative cues.”

Additional Releases:

As he has done in “Kill Bill” (vols 1 and 2), and other pictures, Quentin Tarantino repurposed Morricone’s “Battle of Algiers” score in 2009’s “Inglourious Basterds,” in the scene where the Basterds rescue Hugo Stiglitz from a German prison:

Hugo Stiglitz clip from “Inglourious Basterds.”

The Film:

Roger Ebert’s review of “Battle of Algiers” from rogerebert.com:

“At the height of the street fighting in Algiers, the French stage a press conference for a captured FLN leader. “Tell me, general,” a Parisian journalist asks the revolutionary, “do you not consider it cowardly to send your women carrying bombs in their handbags, to blow up civilians?” The rebel replies in a flat tone of voice: “And do you not think it cowardly to bomb our people with napalm?” A pause. “Give us your airplanes and we will give you our women and their handbags.”

“The Battle of Algiers,” a great film by the young Italian director Gillo Pontecorvo, exists at this level of bitter reality. It may be a deeper film experience than many audiences can withstand: too cynical, too true, too cruel and too heartbreaking. It is about the Algerian war, but those not interested in Algeria may substitute another war; “The Battle of Algiers” has a universal frame of reference.

Pontecorvo announces at the outset that there is “not one foot” of documentary or newsreel footage in his two hours of film. The announcement is necessary, because the film looks, feels and tastes as real as Peter Watkins’ “The War Game.” Pontecorvo used available light, newsreel film stock and actual locations to reconstruct the events in Algiers. He is after actuality, the feeling that you are there, and he succeeds magnificently; the film won the Venice Film Festival and nine other festivals, and was chosen to open the New York Film Festival last November.

Some mental quirk reminded me of “The Lost Command,” Mark Robson’s dreadful 1965 film in which George Segal was the Algerian rebel and Anthony Quinn somehow won for the French. Compared to “The Battle of Algiers,” that film and all Hollywood “war movies” are empty, gaudy balloons.

Pontecorvo has taken his stance somewhere between the FLN and the French, although his sympathies are on the side of the Nationalists. He is aware that innocent civilians die and are tortured on both sides, that bombs cannot choose their victims, that both armies have heroes and that everyone fighting a war can supply rational arguments to prove he is on the side of morality.

His protagonists are a French colonel (Jean Martin), who respects his opponents but believes (correctly, no doubt) that ruthless methods are necessary, and Ali (Brahim Haggiag), a petty criminal who becomes an FLN leader. But there are other characters: an old man beaten by soldiers; a small Arab boy attacked by French civilians who have narrowly escaped bombing; a cool young Arab girl who plants a bomb in a cafe and then looks compassionately at her victims, and many more.

The strength of the film, I think, comes because it is both passionate and neutral, concerned with both sides. The French colonel (himself a veteran of the anti-Nazi resistance), learns that Sartre supports the FLN. “Why are the liberals always on the other side?” he asks. “Why don’t they believe France belongs in Algeria?” But there was a time when he did not need to ask himself why the Nazis did not belong in France.

The Director:

Gilberto Pontecorvo Cavaliere di Gran Croce OMRI (Italian: [ˈdʒillo ponteˈkɔrvo]; 19 November 1919 – 12 October 2006) was an Italian filmmaker associated with the political cinema movement of the 1960s and 1970s. He is best known for directing the landmark war docudrama The Battle of Algiers (1966). It won the Golden Lion at the 27th Venice Film Festival, and earned him Oscar nominations for Best Director and Best Original Screenplay.

His other films include Kapò (1960), a Holocaust drama; Burn! (1969), a period film about a fictional slave revolt in the Lesser Antilles; and Ogro (1979), a dramatization of the assassination of Spanish Prime Minister Luis Carrero Blanco by Basque separatists. He also directed several documentaries and short films.

In 2000, he received the Pietro Bianchi Award at the Venice Film Festival. The same year, he was ascended as a Knight’s Grand Cross of the Order of Merit of the Italian Republic.

**Pontecorvo** (l) with his “**Burn**” star, **Marlon** **Brando** (r).

Early life

Pontecorvo, born in Pisa, was the son of a wealthy secular Italian Jewish family. His father was a businessman. Gillo’s siblings included brothers Bruno Pontecorvo, later an internationally acclaimed nuclear physicist and one of the so-called Via Panisperna boys, who defected to the Soviet Union in 1950; Guido Pontecorvo, a geneticist; Polì [Paul] Pontecorvo, an engineer who worked on radar after World War II; and David Maraoni. Their sisters were Giuliana (m. Talbet); Laura (m. Coppa); and Anna (m. Newton).

Pontecorvo studied chemistry at the University of Pisa, but dropped out after passing just two exams. There he first became aware of opposition political forces, and first encountered leftist students and professors. In 1938, faced with growing antisemitism in Italy with the rise of Fascists, he followed his elder brother Bruno to Paris, where he found work in journalism and as a tennis instructor.

In Paris, Pontecorvo became involved in the film world, and began by making a few short documentaries. He became an assistant to Joris Ivens, a Dutch documentary filmmaker and well-known Marxist, whose films include Regen and The Bridge. He also assisted Yves Allégret, a French director known for his work in the film noir genre, whose films include Une si jolie petite plage and Les Orgueilleux. In addition to these influences, Pontecorvo began meeting people who broadened his perspectives, among them artist Pablo Picasso, composer Igor Stravinsky and political thinker Jean-Paul Sartre. During this time Pontecorvo developed his political ideals. He was moved when many of his friends in Paris packed up to go and fight on the Republican side in the Spanish Civil War.

In 1941, Pontecorvo joined the Italian Communist Party. He traveled to northern Italy to help organize Anti-Fascist partisans. Going by the pseudonym Barnaba, he became a leader of the Resistance in Milan from 1943 until 1945.

After the war, he coedited the weekly communist magazine, Pattuglia, with Dario Volari between 1948 and 1950.^[1] Pontecorvo broke ties with the Communist party in 1956 after the Soviet intervention to suppress the Hungarian uprising.^{[citation needed]} He did not, however, renounce his dedication to Marxism.^{[citation needed]}

In a 1983 interview with The Guardian, Pontecorvo said, “I am not an out-and-out revolutionary. I am merely a man of the Left, like a lot of Italian Jews.”^[2]

**Robert De Niro** (l) embraces **Pontecorvo** (r).

Film career

Early films

After the Second World War and his return to Italy, Pontecorvo decided to leave journalism for filmmaking, a shift that appears to have been developing for some time. The catalyst was his seeing Roberto Rossellini‘s Paisà (1946). He bought a 16mm camera and shot several documentaries, mostly self-funded, beginning with Missione Timiriazev in 1953. He directed Giovanna, which was one episode of La rosa dei venti (1957), a film made of episodes by several directors.

In 1957, he directed his first full-length film, La grande strada azzurra (The Wide Blue Road), which foreshadowed his mature style of later films. It explores the life of a fisherman and his family on a small island in the Adriatic Sea. Because of the scarcity of fish in nearby waters, the fisherman, Squarciò, has to sail out to the open sea, where he fishes illegally with bombs. The film won a prize at the Karlovy Vary International Film Festival. Pontecorvo spent months, and sometimes years, researching the material for his films in order to accurately represent the social situations he explored.

In the next two years, Pontecorvo directed Kapò (1960), a drama set in a Nazi death camp. The plot of the film is about an escape attempt from a concentration camp by a young Jewish girl. In 1961 it was the Italian candidate for the United States’ Academy Awards, and it was nominated for an Oscar for Best Foreign-Language Film.^[3] In this same year, the film won two awards: the Italian National Syndicate of Film Journalists awarded Didi Perego a Silver Ribbon for best supporting actress, and the Mar del Plata Film Festival awarded Susan Strasberg for best actress.

The Battle of Algiers

Main article: The Battle of Algiers (film)

Pontecorvo is best known for his 1966 masterpiece The Battle of Algiers (released in Italian as La battaglia di Algeri). It is widely viewed as one of the finest films of its genre: a neorealistic film. Its portrayal of the Algerian resistance during the Algerian War uses the neorealist style pioneered by fellow Italian film directors de Santis and Rossellini. He used newsreel-style footage and non-professional actors.

He focused primarily on the native Algerians, a disenfranchised population who were seldom featured in the general media. Though very much Italian neorealist in style, Pontecorvo co-produced with an Algerian film company. The script was written with intention that Front de Libération Nationale (FLN) leaders would act in it.^{[clarification needed]} (For example, the character Djafar was played by an FLN leader, Yacef Saadi.) Pontecorvo’s theme was clearly anti-imperialist. He later described the film as a “hymn … in homage to the people who must struggle for their independence, not only in Algeria, but everywhere in the third world” and said, “the birth of a nation happens with pain on both sides, although one side has cause and the other not.”

The Battle of Algiers achieved great success and influence. It was widely screened in the United States, where Pontecorvo received a number of awards. He was nominated for two Academy Awards for direction and screenplay (a collaboration). The film has been used as a training video by revolutionary groups, as well as by military dictatorships dealing with guerrilla resistance (especially in the 1970s during Operation Condor). It has been and remains extremely popular in Algeria, providing a popular memory of the struggle for independence from France.

The semi-documentary style and use of an almost entirely non-professional cast (only one trained actor appears in the film) was a great influence on a number of future filmmakers and films. Its influence can be seen in the few surviving works of West German filmmaker Teod Richter, made from the late 1960s up to his disappearance, and presumed death, in 1986. In addition, more recent commercial American films, such as the Blair Witch Project, Paranormal Activity and others draw from these techniques for less lofty purposes.

Late career

Pontecorvo’s next major work, Queimada! (Burn!, 1969), deals with a fictional slave revolt, set in the Lesser Antilles. This film (starring Marlon Brando) depicts an attempted revolution in a fictional Portuguese colony.

Pontecorvo continued his series of highly political films with Ogro (1979), which addresses the occurrence of Basque terrorism at the end of Francisco Franco‘s dwindling dictatorship in Spain. He continued making short films into the early 1990s. He also directed a follow-up documentary to The Battle of Algiers, entitled Ritorno ad Algeri (Return to Algiers, 1992).

In 1992, Pontecorvo was selected to replace Guglielmo Biraghi as the director of the Venice Film Festival; he was responsible for the festivals of 1992, 1993 and 1994. In 1991, he was a member of the jury at the 41st Berlin International Film Festival.^[4]

In an interview that Pontecorvo gave in 1991, when asked why he had directed so few feature films, his response was that he could only make one with which he is totally in love. He also said that he had rejected many other film concepts for lack of interest.^{[citation needed]}

Death

In 2006, Pontecorvo died from congestive heart failure in Rome at age 86.^[5]

Pontecorvo’s Filmography:

Feature films

Title	Year	Functioned as			Notes
Title	Year	Director	Writer	Composer	Notes
The Wide Blue Road (La grande strada azzurra)	1957	Yes	Yes	No	Nominated – Crystal Globe (Karlovy Vary International Film Festival)
Kapo (Kapò)	1960	Yes	Yes	Yes	Nominated – Great Jury Prize (Mar del Plata International Film Festival)
The Battle of Algiers (La Battaglia di Algeri)	1966	Yes	Yes	Yes	Golden Lion (Venice Film Festival) Nastro d’Argento for Best Director Nominated – Academy Award for Best Director Nominated – Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay Nominated – Nastro d’Argento for Best Score
Burn! (Queimada)	1969	Yes	Story	No	David di Donatello for Best Director
Ogro (Operación Ogro)	1979	Yes	Yes	No	David di Donatello for Best Director

Documentary films

Title	Year	Functioned as			Notes
Title	Year	Director	Writer	Composer	Notes
Missione Timiriazev^[6]	1953	Yes	No	No
Porta Portese	1954	Yes	No	No
Festa a Castelluccio	1954	Yes	No	No
Uomini del marmo	1955	Yes	No	No
Cani dietro le sbarre	1955	Yes	No	No
Pane e zolfo	1959	Yes	No	No
Gli uomini del lago	1959	Yes	No	No
Paras	1963	Yes	No	No
Addio a Enrico Berliguer	1984	Yes	No	No
Un altro mondo è possibile	2001	Yes	No	No
Firenze, il nostro domani	2003	Yes	No	No

Short films

Giovanna (1957, segment of Die Windrose)
Udine (1984, segment of 12 registi per 12 città)
Gillo Pontecorvo’s Return to Algiers (1992)
Danza della fata confetto (1996)
Nostalgia di protezione (1997)

External links

Posters:

Links:

Listen to Morricone’s complete “Battle of Algiers” score here:

Ennio Morricone – La battaglia di Algeri OST

Watch “The Battle of Algiers” (and a slew of bonus materials including featurette “Morricone on Morricone“) on The Criterion Channel here:

Find a vinyl copy at Discogs here:

Watch the trailer for “The Battle of Algiers” here:

https://www.criterionchannel.com/the-battle-of-algiers

Purchase a physical copy of “The Battle of Algiers” blu-ray/dvd from The Criterion Collection here:

“**The Battle of Algiers**” from **The** **Criterion** **Collection**.

If you’re in the Toronto area, say hi to my Filmography podcast co-host, Bjorn, and order a copy to buy or to rent from “Toronto’s last great video store,” Bay Street Video in store (or online, if outside of Toronto):

Watch the film for free on YouTube here:

Complete film on YouTube.

Watch Criterion’s bonus featurette “Spike Lee, Mira Nair, and Steven Soderbergh on The Battle of Algiers” here:

Read The Guardian’s obituary for Gillo Pontecorvo here:

Morricone

The Morricone Collection: “Il Grande Silenzio” (1968)

Post author By Reece Crothers
Post date December 5, 2024
1 Comment on The Morricone Collection: “Il Grande Silenzio” (1968)

**Morricone** around the time of composing the score to **Sergio** **Corbucci’s** “Il **Grande** **Silenzio**.”

Director **Sergio** **Corbucci** on location

The Album:

Dagored’s 2016 double-coloured vinyl pressing of Morricone’s 1968 score (one of my all-time favourite Morricones) to Sergio Corbucci’s great Spaghetti Western, “Il Grande Silenzio,” represents the “the first re-issue ever” and is limited to 500 copies.

From the album sticker:

“The legendary soundtrack composed by the Maestro ENNIO MORRICONE for IL GRANDE SILENZIO, directed in 1968 by SERGIO CORBUCCI and staring Jean Louis Trintigant and Klaus Kinski.

A melancholic, emotive score, deeply moving and cold as the snow covered landscape of the film, is considered one of the best “western” work by Morricone since the collaboration with Sergio Leone.

FIRST VINYL REISSUE EVER
LIMITED EDITION OF 500 COPIES
DOUBLE COLORED VINYL

This edition © 2016 Dagored
℗ & © 1967 NEAPOLIS (SIAE)
Licenziata da Beat Records.”

Earlier Album Pressings:

Alternate 1978 Italian re-issue (black).

The Film:

**Jean-Louis Trintignant**, beloved giant of European New Wave cinema, as “Silenzio” (Silence).

From A.O. Scott’s 2018 NY Times review:

“I’m not generally one for nostalgia, but I do regret the loss of a certain kind of craziness that used to flourish in movies — the kind that is on rich and ripe display in “The Great Silence,” a 1968 Italian western by Sergio Corbucci that is only now receiving a proper theatrical release in this country.

The cast of “**Il Grande Silenzio**” in a lighter moment on set.

There is something about the film’s brazen mixing of incompatible elements that defies categorization, imitation or even sober critical assessment. It’s anarchic and rigorous, sophisticated and goofy, heartfelt and cynical. The score, by Ennio Morricone, is as mellow as wine. The action is raw, nasty and blood-soaked. The story is preposterous, the politics sincere.

In 2018, it’s possible — and perhaps inevitable — to view “The Great Silence” as a footnote to the oeuvre of Quentin Tarantino, whose admiration for Corbucci is well documented. Corbucci’s 1966 western “Django” was an inspiration for Mr. Tarantino’s “Django Unchained,” and “The Hateful Eight” shares a snowbound aesthetic and a gleeful commitment to cruelty with “The Great Silence.” The scholarly minded viewer can trace other connections and divergences as well — to classic American westerns and to the contemporaneous and better-known work of the spaghetti maestro Sergio Leone.

The great Jean-Louis Trintignant rides into town.

But this plate of pasta — bitter and pungent, nourishing and perhaps a bit nauseating — should be savored on its own. It takes place at the end of the 19th century in “Snow Hill, Utah,” a place name that sounds infinitely more exotic in Italian. There, farmers have been driven off their land and forced into banditry, leaving them at the mercy of bounty killers, the most fearsome and sadistic of whom is played by Klaus Kinski.

**Klaus Kinski**, legendary madman of **Werner** **Herzog** classics like “**Fitzcaraldo**.”

His character — referred to as Tigrero aloud and Loco in the subtitles — is a whispering sociopath and a symbol of the Darwinian brutality that governs Snow Hill. The actual governor wants to bring the area under the rule of law, and dispatches a bumbling, decent sheriff (Frank Wolff) to bring Tigrero and the rest of the bounty killers into line. The lawman’s earnest efforts are a sideshow to the main drama, though, which pits Tigrero and his minions against a solitary avenger known as Silenzio.

Played by the great Jean-Louis Trintignant, Silenzio is a tragic, poetic variation on Clint Eastwood’s taciturn Man With No Name. Silenzio is not a man of few words, but a survivor of horrific violence. When he was a child, the bounty hunters who murdered his parents severed his vocal cords to keep him from talking. He has grown up into Tigrero’s double and opposite, meting out justice for money and following a strict code of ethics. He will never draw his gun first, but he will always shoot faster than his adversary.

**Kinski** fires his pistol (and remembers to keep his ears warm at all times).

Silenzio’s services are solicited by Pauline (Vonetta McGee), the widow of one of Tigrero’s victims. The fact that she and her husband are black is at once a casual detail and a sign of the film’s anti-authoritarian, democratic ideology. The couple seems to have been welcomed by the other good people of Snow Hill, but their race is a big issue for the bad guys.

The plot takes a twist or two, but serves mainly as a thread linking shootouts and glowering confrontations, with a brief respite for love. The mood is sometimes jaunty, but “The Great Silence” is no joke, and the fatalism of its ending serves as an implicit critique of the sentimental optimism of many Hollywood westerns. Power speaks louder than silence.”

Perhaps the greatest influence “Il Grande Silenzio“” has had on contemporary cinema is on display in the snowy landscapes of die-hard Corbucci & Morricone fan Quentin Tarantino’s 2nd western, “The Hateful 8,” which also features (an Oscar-winning) score by Maestro Morricone.

Still from “the 8th film by **Quentin** **Tarantino**.”

Tarantino’s 1st western, 2012’s “Django Unchained,” was likewise inspired by another Corbucci Spaghetti Western, the one for which he is probably most famous, “Django,” released two years previously (1966).

**Corbucci** ‘s best known work, “**Django**” released two years before “Il **Grande** **Silenzio**.”

Original “**Django**” (1966) poster, and the film itself, are obvious influences on…

**Tarantino’s** Django, **Jamie** **Foxx**, with **Corbucci’s** original **Django**, Spaghetti Western icon, **Franco** **Nero**, in **Tarantino’s** 2012 ode to **Corbucci’s** picture.

Worthy of note in any discussion on “Il Grande Silenzio” is the performance by American actor Frank Wolff as the doomed sheriff first hired by the put-upon townspeople to go after Kinski and his fellow bounty hunters. Having worked extensively in the U.S. with the prince of independent cinema, Roger Corman, Wolff later distinguished himself in many Italian and European films that sprung forth as part of the boom of filmmaking in Rome (and other European cities) in the 1960’s and 70’s. Wolff was an extremely likeable character actor who met a very tragic end, “slashing” his own throat, allegedly over the unrequited love of a young woman, after being left by his wife for another man.

American actor and Italian cinema stalwart, Frank Wolff, who tragically committed suicide just 3 years after appearing as the doomed sheriff in “**Il Grande Silenzio**.”

From Wikipedia:

(Frank Wolff’s) Death:

Wolff committed suicide by cutting his throat in the bathroom of a residence in his Rome hotel room, a few steps from the Hilton hotel, at the age of 43 on December 12, 1971.^[2] Long the victim of a deep depressive crisis, the actor was separated from his wife Alice Campbell, who lived like him in Rome. According to one hypothesis, Wolff would have injured himself for the first time with a razor blade. Having dropped the blade from his hand, the actor would have taken a second one, with which he would have cut the carotid artery. This second injury caused a cerebral anemia that led to his death in a short time.^[3]

His body was found by a 24-year-old Austrian friend on the same day, and police said he had slashed his throat.^[4] It was speculated that the unrequited love for the young woman might have contributed to Wolff’s fatal act, already suffering from a nervous breakdown for some time, after his wife had left him for another man.^[3]

His final two Italian-made films, Milano Caliber 9 and When Women Lost Their Tails were released posthumously in 1972. His voice in the English-language version of Milano Caliber 9 was dubbed in by his frequent co-star and roommate at the time of his death Michael Forest.

Additional Film Stills:

A love story fraught with danger and trauma.

Even in winter, the dead must be buried.

Silenzio reflects in the glow of a solitary candle.

**Kinski** with the bounty hunter’s greatest prop, the wanted poster.

Trintignant makes a grand entrance as “**The** **Great** **Silence**.”

The Director:

“**Il Grande Silenzio**” director **Corbucci** likes what he sees through the viewfinder.

“**The Great Silence**,” **Corbucci’s** great achievement.

Compilation album of 3 collaborations between **Morricone** and **Corbucci**.

Morricone is forever associated with the most famous of the “three Sergios” of Italian cinema, Leone, but equally great are the 7 soundtracks the Maestro scored for another Sergio, that being Mr. Corbucci, for whom Morricone composed the scores for “Compañeros,” “I Crudeli,” aka “The Hellbenders,” “Che C’entriamo Noi Con La Rivoluzione?“, “The Mercenary, ” “Navajo Joe,” “Sonny & Jed,” and of course, “Il Grande Silenzio.”

From Wikipedia:

Sergio Corbucci (Italian: [ˈsɛrdʒo korˈbuttʃi]; 6 December 1926 – 1 December 1990) was an Italian film director, screenwriter and producer. He directed both very violent spaghetti Westerns and bloodless Bud Spencer and Terence Hill action comedies.^[1]

He is the older brother of screenwriter and film director Bruno Corbucci.^[2]

Biography

Early career

He started his career by directing mostly low-budget sword and sandal movies. Among his first spaghetti Westerns were the films Grand Canyon Massacre (1964), which he co-directed (under the pseudonym, Stanley Corbett) with Albert Band, as well as Minnesota Clay (1964), his first solo directed spaghetti Western. Corbucci’s first commercial success was with the cult spaghetti Western Django, starring Franco Nero, the leading man in many of his movies.^[3] He would later collaborate with Franco Neroon two other spaghetti Westerns, Il Mercenario or The Mercenary (a.k.a. A Professional Gun) (1968) — where Nero played Sergei Kowalski, a Polish mercenary and the film also starring Tony Musante, Jack Palance and Giovanna Ralli — as well as Compañeros (1970) a.k.a. Vamos a matar, Companeros, which also starred Tomas Milian and Jack Palance. The last film of the “Mexican Revolution” trilogy – The Mercenary and Compañeros being the first two in the installment – was What Am I Doing in the Middle of the Revolution? (1972).

After Django, Corbucci made many other spaghetti Westerns, which made him the most successful Italian Western director after Sergio Leone and one of Italy’s most productive and prolific directors.^[4] His most famous of these pictures was The Great Silence (Il Grande Silenzio), a dark and gruesome Western starring a mute action hero and a psychopathic bad guy.^[5]^[6] The film was banned in some countries for its excessive display of violence.

Corbucci (r) on location with “**Navajo Joe**” star, Burt Reynolds.

Corbucci also directed Navajo Joe (1966), starring Burt Reynolds as the title character, a Navajo Indian opposing a group of bandits that killed his tribe, as well as The Hellbenders (1967), and Johnny Oro (1966) a.k.a. Ringo and his Golden Pistol starring Mark Damon. Other spaghetti Westerns he directed include Gli specialisti (Drop Them or I’ll Shoot, 1969), La Banda J.S.: Cronaca criminale del Far West (Sonny and Jed, 1972), with Tomas Milian and The White the Yellow and the Black (1975), with Tomas Milianand Eli Wallach.

Corbucci (r) with actor **Tomas** **Milian** on set of “**Compañeros**.”

Corbucci’s Westerns were dark and brutal, with the characters portrayed as sadistic antiheroes. His films featured very high body counts and scenes of mutilation. Django especially is considered to have set a new level for violence in Westerns.^[7]

Corbucci was born in Rome.

Later career and legacy

In the 1970s and 1980s Corbucci mostly directed comedies, often starring Adriano Celentano. Many of these comedies were huge successes at the Italian box office and found wide distribution in European countries like Germany, France, Austria and Switzerland, but were barely released overseas.^[8]

His movies were rarely taken seriously by contemporary critics^[9]^[10] and he was considered an exploitation director, but Corbucci has managed to attain a cult reputation.^[6]^[11]

He died in Rome in 1990, at age 63, of a heart attack.^[12]

His nephew Leonardo Corbucci^[13] continues the legacy of film directors in the family in Los Angeles.

In 2021 was released a documentary about Corbucci, directed by Luca Rea, Django & Django, that relies to a considerable extent on an interview with Quentin Tarantino.^[14]

In 2022 German thrash metal band Kreator released the instrumental song “Sergio Corbucci is Dead” as an intro to their album Hate Über Alles. According to vocalist/guitarist Mille Petrozza, “Sergio Corbucci was someone who was very anti-authoritarian in his film. In all his films he has a protagonist who rebels against the authorities. Often these characters are very obscure. I was wondering if there are still people like that who make really political films without trying to preach anything to you. It’s a bit of a dig at the bands who don’t speak their minds out of fear of losing fans.”^[15]

Filmography

Director and writer

Salvate mia figlia (1951)
Foreign Earth (1954)
Island Sinner (1954)
Acque amare (1954)
Baracca e burattini (1954)
Carovana di canzoni (1955)
Suonno d’ammore (1955)
Supreme Confession (1956)
Ángeles sin cielo (1957)
I ragazzi dei Parioli (1959)
Who Hesitates is Lost (1960)
An American in Toledo (1960) *Only writer.
Totò, Peppino e… la dolce vita (1961)
Goliath and the Vampires (1961)
Duel of the Titans (1961)
The Two Marshals (1961)
The Slave (The Son of Spartacus, 1962)
Lo smemorato di Collegno (1962)
The Shortest Day (1963)
Il monaco di Monza (1963)
Gli onorevoli (1963)
Castle of Blood (1964) (uncredited)
Grand Canyon Massacre (1964) (as Stanley Corbett)
Minnesota Clay (1964)
I figli del leopardo (1965)
The Man Who Laughs (1966)
Django (1966)
Ringo and his Golden Pistol (Johnny Oro, 1966)
Navajo Joe (1966)
The Hellbenders (The Cruel Ones, 1967)
Death on the Run (1967)
The Great Silence (1968)
The Mercenary (A Professional Gun, 1968)
The Specialists (Drop Them or I’ll Shoot, 1969)
Compañeros (1970)
Er più: storia d’amore e di coltello (1971)
La Banda J.S.: Cronaca criminale del Far West (Sonny and Jed, 1972)
What Am I Doing in the Middle of the Revolution? (1972)
The Beast (1974)
Shoot First… Ask Questions Later (The White the Yellow and the Black, 1975)
What’s Your Sign? (1975)
The Con Artists (1976)
Mr. Robinson (1976)
Three Tigers Against Three Tigers (1977)
Ecco noi per esempio… (1977)
The Payoff (1978)
Odds and Evens (1978)
Neapolitan Mystery (1979)
Super Fuzz (1980)
I Don’t Understand You Anymore (1980)
I’m Getting a Yacht (1980)
Who Finds a Friend Finds a Treasure (1981)
My Darling, My Dearest (1982)
Count Tacchia (1982)
Sing Sing (1983)
Questo e quello (1983)
A tu per tu (1984)
I Am an ESP (1985)
Rimini Rimini (1987)
Roba da ricchi (1987)
Days of Inspector Ambrosio (1988)
Night Club (1989)
Women in Arms (1991)

Actor

Suonno d’ammore (1955) – Bank customer (uncredited)
Who Hesitates Is Lost (1960) – Billiard player (uncredited)
Totò, Peppino e… la dolce vita (1961) – Man waiting in the line for the telephone (uncredited)
Lo smemorato di Collegno (1962) – Man waiting for the Minister (uncredited)
Gli onorevoli (1963) – Manager of the hotel in Roccasecca (uncredited) (final film role)

References

“Sergio Corbucci”. Movies & TV Dept. The New York Times. Archived from the original on 11 May 2008. Retrieved 23 January 2019.
Bondanella, Peter; Pacchioni, Federico (19 October 2017). A History of Italian Cinema. Bloomsbury Publishing USA. p. 490. ISBN 9781501307645.
Cox, Alex (1 June 2012). “Once Upon a Time in Italy”. The New York Times. p. 16. Retrieved 23 January 2019.
“Mondo Esoterica – Sergio Corbucci Film Reviews”. mondo-esoterica.net. Retrieved 24 April 2023.
Scott, A. O. (28 March 2018). “Review: ‘The Great Silence,’ a 1968 Spaghetti Western Unchained”. The New York Times. ISSN 0362-4331. Retrieved 24 April 2023.
Hoberman, J. (28 December 2018). “’68 Rides Again: The Return of Sergio Corbucci”. The New York Times. ISSN 0362-4331. Retrieved 24 April 2023.
Tarantino, Quentin (27 September 2012). “Quentin Tarantino Tackles Old Dixie by Way of the Old West (by Way of Italy)”. The New York Times. ISSN 0362-4331. Retrieved 27 June2020.
“SERGIO CORBUCCI BOX OFFICE”. BOX OFFICE STORY. Retrieved 24 April 2023.
Wong, Aliza S. (15 December 2018). Spaghetti Westerns: A Viewer’s Guide. Rowman & Littlefield. pp. 123–124. ISBN 978-1-4422-6904-0.
Bondanella, Peter (25 July 2019). The Italian Cinema Book. Bloomsbury Publishing. ISBN 978-1-83902-024-7.
Mask, Mia (28 February 2023). Black Rodeo: A History of the African American Western. University of Illinois Press. p. 139. ISBN 978-0-252-05402-0.
Flint, Peter B. (1 May 1989). “Sergio Leone, 67, Italian Director Who Revitalized Westerns, Dies”. The New York Times. p. 8. Retrieved 23 January 2019.
“Behind the Scenes: The Legendary Series with Leonard Corbucci on Apple Podcasts”. Apple Podcasts. Retrieved 27 June 2020.
DeFore, John (8 September 2021). “‘Django & Django’: Film Review | Venice 2021”. The Hollywood Reporter. Retrieved 6 April 2023.
“Album review: Kreator – Hate Über Alles” (in German). 8 June 2022.

Film Posters:

Links:

Listen to the complete score on YouTube here:

Complete score on YouTube.

Purchase a copy of the vinyl on Discogs here:

Watch Alex Cox’s introduction to “The Great Silence” here:

Alex Cox’s intro to “The Great Silence.”

Watch the trailer for “The Great Silence” here:

Trailer.

Watch a 10-minute behind-the-scenes feature on the making of “Il Grande Silenzio” here:

The making of “Il Grande Silenzio.”

Read J. Hoberman’s NY Times piece celebrating “The Great Silence” (and other Corbuccis) on the occasion of its digital streaming release here:

The above article links to A.O. Scott’s 2018 Times‘ review for “The Great Silence,” which you can read here:

If in the Toronto area, say hi to my Filmography podcast co-host Bjorn, and find a copy of “The Great Silence” on DVD or blu-ray at Toronto’s “last great video store,” Bay Street Video, in store or online at baystreetvideo.com:

Order the blu-ray on Amazon here:

Morricone

The Morricone Collection: “Storie Di Vita E Malavita” (1975)

Post author By Reece Crothers
Post date December 4, 2024

The Maestro around the time he composed the score for “**Storie Di Vita e Malavita.**“

The Album

From the Cam Sugar journal:

Cam Sugar’s write up for “Storie Di Vita e Malavita.”

“In 1975 Ennio Morricone composed the music for Storie di Vita e di Malavita, the film with which director Carlo Lizzani followed up his investigation on youth deviance and crime in Milan. The opus documented the city’s lowlives, the malavita, based on a reportage by Marisa Rusconi, a pioneering author and journalist who could seamlessly move from investigative to lifestyle and fashion journalism, as witnessed by her work with the likes of Panorama, L’Espresso and Vogue.

As the soundtrack by Ennio Morricone finally resurfaced in its entirety from the CAM Sugar archive with its first-ever vinyl release on the occasion of Record Store Day, photographer Fabrizio Vatieri reimagines the film’s iconography in the streets of contemporary Milan.”

The Film:

“**Storie Di Vita e Malavita**” on blu-ray.

Aka “The Teenage Prostitution Racket,” 1975’s “Storie Di Vita e Malavita” was directed by Carlo Lizzani, who also directed the excellent Italian crime picture “Wake Up & Kill” aka “Svegliati e Uccidi,” the Spaghetti Western “The Hills Run Red,” and the political drama “Mussolini: Ultimo Atto,” all of which, like this picture, feature stunning scores by the Maestro.

Here is the synopsis of the film from the Amazon product description:

“Occupying a creepy cinematic netherworld somewhere between Eurocrime and erotica, Carlo Lizzani’s Teenage Prostitution Racket (Storie di Vita e Malavita) is an unapologetically sordid film that explores the troubled sexuality of a series of young women coming of age in 1970s Milan. Beginning on the outskirts of town, where a peasant woman pimps her thirteen-year-old companion to passing truck drivers, Lizzani s film worms its way into the metropolis, where the oldest profession, in its varied forms, is dramatized in a series of interlocking narratives. A working-class girl is lured into prostitution by a boyfriend; a rich girl uses sex to rebel against her wealthy parents; a photographer s model discovers sex is an unspoken requirement of her job; an ex-convent girl becomes a nymphomaniac after being seduced at school; an independent hooker relies on a vicious dog to defend her against a gang of mobsters. As sensational as the episodes may be, Lizzani doesn’t reduce the characters to mere sex objects. Instead, he endows each woman with enough depth that even the most voyeuristic viewer can t help but become invested in her struggles to survive, and share her resentment toward the shady characters who try to control her. Special Features: Documentary (Italian language with English subtitles) | fotogallery | Cut scenes.”

Still from “**Storie Di Vita e Malavita.**“

The Director:

Carlo Lizzani’s bio from Wikipedia:

“Born in Rome, before World War II Lizzani worked as a scenarist on such films as Roberto Rossellini‘s Germany Year Zero, Alberto Lattuada‘s The Mill on the Po (both 1948), and Giuseppe De Santis‘ Bitter Rice (1949), for which he received an Academy Award nomination for Best Original Story.

After directing documentaries, he debuted as a feature director with the admired World War II drama Achtung! Banditi! (1951). Respected for his awarded drama Chronicle of Poor Lovers (1954), he has proven a solid director of genre films, notably crime films such as The Violent Four (1968) and Crazy Joe (1974) or crime-comedy Roma Bene(1971). His film L’oro di Roma (1961) examined events around the final deportation of the Jews of Rome and the Roman roundup, grande razzia, of October 1943.^[2] For his 1968 film Bandits in Milan, he won a David di Donatello award as best director and a Nastro d’Argento award for best screenplay.^[3]

Lizzani worked frequently for Italian television in the 1980s and supervised the Venice International Film Festival for four editions, from 1979 to 1982.^[4] In 1994 Lizzani was a member of the jury at the Berlin Film Festival.^[5]

For his 1996 film Celluloide, which deals with the making of Rome, Open City, he received another David di Donatello award for his screenplay.^[3]

While preparing for the film L’orecchio del potere (“The Ear of Power”, a project he cultivated since the late nineties with the title Operazione Appia Antica), Lizzani committed suicide in Rome at the age of 91, when he jumped from the balcony of his apartment in Via dei Gracchi on 5 October 2013.^[1] On 10 October his coffin was transferred to a room in the Capitol that was set up as a funeral home, and the following day the civil funeral was held. Later, his body was transferred to the Flaminian cemetery for cremation.”

Earlier Album Release:

Double CD release for “**Storie Di Vita e Malavita**” and “**Un Delitto Inutile.**“

Posters:

**Carlo Lizzani** Retrospective in 3 Films.

The Morricone Collection: “Faccia a Faccia” (1967)

Post author By Reece Crothers
Post date November 25, 2024

**Morricone** closes his eyes and hears a symphony (or so I imagine!).

Album write-up from elusivedisc.com:

“This is the soundtrack to Sergio Sollima’s Italian Spaghetti western film Faccia a Faccia (also known as Face To Face), starring Gian Maria Volonte, Tomas Milian and William Berger. Composed by the legendary Ennio Morricone, the 1967 movie’s music is a beautiful mix of typical epic ’60s Morricone western moods, experimental moments and even some sheer Country. The orchestra and chorus are directed by Bruno Nicolai, the famous Italian film music composer. His work is featured in Kiss Kiss…Bang Bang and Kill Bill Volume 2 amongst many other movies.”

Other Pressings:

**“Faccia a Faccia”** aka “*Il Etais Une Fois Dans L’Arizona* (“Once Upon A Time In Arizona”).

The Film:

Opening title card to **Sergio Sollima**‘s “**Faccia a Faccia.”**

The perpetually smoldering icon of ’70s international cinema, **Gian Maria Volonte.**

British cult-auteur Alex Cox is probably best known to movie lovers for his ‘80s classics “Repo Man,” and “Sid & Nancy,” but he is also one of the foremost authorities on all things Spaghetti Western, as evidenced by his excellent compendium on the genre, “10,000 Ways To Die,” in which he provides a wealth of information and insight into the film and its production.

British director (and Italian Western scholar), **Alex** **Cox**.

Alex Cox’s “director’s take on the Italian Western.”

**Alex** **Cox’s** best works, “**Repo Man**” and “**Sid & Nancy**.”

Below is the transcript to Alex Cox’s Moviedrome introduction to Sergio Sollima’s “Faccia a Faccia,” originally broadcast by the BBC on August 29th, 1993:

**Cox** introduces “**Face** To **Face**” aka “**Faccia** a **Faccia**” on **BBC’s** **Moviedrome** program.

“Face to Face is one of three ‘political westerns’ by the Italian director Sergio Sollima, who sometimes operates under the pseudonym ‘Sterling Simon’. The other two were The Big Gundown, an excellent bounty-hunter movie starring Lee Van Cleef and Tomas Milian, and Run, Man, Run, a rather worse-than-mediocre sequel involving the further adventures of Milian. They were ‘political’ in much the same way as all the spaghetti westerns, setting up a rural/urban conflict in which the city dwellers are always insidious degenerates or usurous bankers, and the rural characters innocent exploitees, often championed by a glamorous social bandit. It’s a straight-forward, simple-minded view that you can find even in supposedly sophisticated Italian films, the most lumbering example perhaps being 1900.

“Face to Face has been described as a parable of the rise of European fascism. Well, maybe. It certainly has the political schematic outlined above, but to me it seems more of a Borgesian tale of fate and doppelgangers. You can take your pick. It also has, and this is where it gets good, some of the most improbable character names, and some of the most outlandish haircuts ever seen in a western. Gian Maria Volonte plays professor Brad Fletcher, a consumptive Boston University professor who heads west for his health. Volonte is, of course, one of the great spaghetti western actors – he was the bandit chief in A Fistful of Dollars and For a Few Dollars More; he was the unwilling revolutionary in A Bullet for the General. Volonte was a serious actor who had been blacklisted for being a Communist – Leone was the first director to break ranks and give him a job. Later he went on to appear in more ‘serious’ political films, including Sacco and Vanzetti, and Francesco Rosi’s Lucky Luciano. He’s always good, and this is one of his better western roles.

“In Face to Face, Brad Fletcher becomes involved with a Mexican bandit with the unlikely moniker of Solomon ‘Beauregard’ Bennet, leader of a hippie-esque outlaw gang called Bennet’s Raiders. Beauregard is played by Tomas Milian – the Cuban actor who appeared in Sollima’s other political westerns, and in many other spaghettis including the truly extraordinary Django Kill. Milian, like Volonte, is a ‘proper’ actor – he played the priest in Dennis Hopper’s Peruvian epic The Last Movie, and recently was seen as one of the anti-Castro hitmen in Oliver Stone’s JFK.

“The chemistry between Volonte and Milian is really interesting, and it keeps the film alive when it might otherwise expire – as, for instance, in the incongruous hippie commune scenes. There are also those haircuts to contend with. But Face to Face is really quite an entertaining and intriguing film. Watch out for several spaghetti western regulars, including William Berger as the mysterious Charlie Sirringo, Aldo Sambrel as the treacherous polecat Zachary Shot, and Angel del Pozo in the role of the gentleman gunfighter, Maximilian de Winton.”

Watch Alex Cox’s Moviedrome intro to “Faccia a Faccia” here:

BBC Moviedrome – Face To Face – Introduced by Alex Cox.

The Director:

Italian writer-director **Sergio** **Sollima**.

Though he may not be the most famous or critically lauded of the “Three Sergios” (Leone and Corbucci would take gold and silver, respectively, in that contest), Italian filmmaker Sergio Solima was a prolific critic-turned-writer-director with 34 writing credits and 19 directing credits to his name.

The lesser-known of “**The** **Three** **Sergios**,” Italian writer-director **Sollima**.

The *other* other **Sergio**, “**Django**” director **Corbucci**.

A tough and stylish filmmaker who worked confidently and successfully in many genres, Sollima is best known for his excellent Spaghetti Westerns “Faccia a Faccia,” aka “Face to Face,” and “The Big Gundown,” aka “La Resi Dei Conti,” both released in 1967, and “Run Man Run,” released the following year (in which Tomas Milian reprised his Chuchillo character from “Big Gundown“). All three pictures were scored by the Maestro.

**Morricone’s** other collaboration with director **Sergio** **Sollima** from 1967 resulted in one of the Maestro’s best Western scores.

Alternate “**The** **Big** **Gundown**” album pressing under the original Italian title, “**La Resa Dei Conti”**

Cover art for **Blue** **Underground’s** DVD release of “**Run Man Run**.”

The director and composer duo would reunite with similarly impressive results on the films “Citta Violenta” aka “Violent City” aka “The Family,” and “Il Diavolo Nel Cervello” aka “Devil In The Brain.”

Recent vinyl re-issue of “**Citta** **Violenta**” by Ennio Morricone.

But my favourite Morricone/Sollima collaboration has to be 1973’s “Revolver,” starring Fabio Testi and Oliver Reed, featuring the standout track “Un Amico,” which rabid-Morricone fan Quentin Tarantino repurposed to great effect in “Inglourious Basterds.”

Listen to “Un Amico” from “Revolver” & “Inglourious Basterds!” on YouTube here:

Listen to “Un Amico” by Ennio Morricone on YouTube.

Watch the “Un Amico” clip from Tarantino’s “Inglourious Basterds” on YouTube here:

Cinema’s avenging angel, **Mélanie** **Laurent** in **Tarantino’s** WW2 epic.

Sergio Sollima’s Director filmography from IMDb:

**Sollima’s** 1st of two screen credits from the”Faccia a Faccia”‘ title sequence.

VENICE, ITALY – SEPTEMBER 02: Stefano Sollima attends a photocall for the “**Adagio**” at the 80th Venice International Film Festival on September 02, 2023 in Venice, Italy. (Photo by **Stefania D’Alessandro/WireImage)**

Worth mentioning is that Sollima is the father of director Stefano Sollima, who has established an impressive career in his own right, both in television, directing episodes of acclaimed Italian series “Gomorrah,” and “Zero, Zero, Zero” (both adaptations of non-fiction works by Roberto Saviano), and in features, in Italian productions like “ACAB,” aka “All Cops Are Bastards,” and “Suburra,” and more recently, with Hollywood productions “Sicario: Day of the Soldado,” and the Tom Clancy thriller “Without Remorse,” though Sollima returned to Italian cinema with last years’ “Adagio.”

TV adaptation of **Roberto** **Saviano’s** “**Gomorrah**” (also the basis for **Matteo** **Garrone’s** 2008 film).

Another **Roberto** **Saviano** adaptation for television also directed by **Sollima** Jr.

“**All Cops Are Bastards**” (“**ACAB**”) poster.

**Sollima’s** most recent picture, 2023’s “**Adagio**.”

Title Sequence:

“Faccia a Faccia” opens with one of my favourite title sequences of all time (of those not created by Saul Bass, of course), and certainly distinguishes this film from the many homogeneous Spaghetti Westerns produced in its era. Wildly colourful two-tone graphics using (seemingly) hand drawn text, images of its stars, and of various Western film motifs (horses, wagons, etc.) evoke a gritty, expressionistic atmosphere, indisputably fueled by the emotional charge Morricone’s rousing theme music (“Faccia a Faccia (Titoli)”) provides in abundance.

Watch the psychedelic title sequence from “Faccia a Faccia” here:

Title Sequence.

Posters:

Alternate French theatrical poster playing on the title of another **Morricone** and **Sergio** (**Leone**, this time) collaboration, “**Once Upon A Time In The West.**“

Theatrical Poster For United Artists’ American Release of “Face To Face.”

“**Cara a Cara**” aka “**Faccia** **a Faccia**” DVD cover art.

German theatrical poster for “Faccia a Faccia” aka “Von Angesicht zu Angesicht.”

Links:

Purchase a vinyl copy of Morricone’s “Faccia a Faccia” on Discogs here:

Listen to “Faccia a Faccia (Titoli)” on YouTube here:

“**Faccia a Faccia (Titoli)**” by Ennio Morricone.

Watch the trailer for “Faccia a Faccia” on Mubi.com here:

https://mubi.com/en/films/face-to-face-1967/trailer

Watch the trailer for “Faccia a Faccia” on YouTube here:

International trailer.

Watch a clip from “Faccia a Faccia” on YouTube.

Clip on YouTube.

If you’re in Toronto, say hi to my Filmography podcast co-host, Bjorn, and pick up a copy of “Faccia a Faccia” by it’s English title “Face to Face” (1967) at “Toronto’s last great video store,” Bay Street Video, in person, or online (with the link below):

Meet my pal, Bjorn, and discover his Pride Week ’24 film recommendations here:

Queer cinema classics for Toronto’s Pride Week 2024.

Outside of Toronto, purchase a copy of the blu-ray on Amazon here:

Watch the complete film (for free) here:

See Morricone in a documentary on his improvisational collective, Gruppo di Improvvisazione di Nuova Consonanza (aka Il Gruppo / The Group), filmed in 1967, the same year the Maestro composed the score for “Faccia a Faccia“:

The Group on YouTube

Read up on Morricone, The Group, and the 1967 documentary in this tribute piece from The Austin Film Society:

Tags 1900, A Bullet For The General, A Fistful of Dollars, ACAB, Adagio, Alberto Grimaldi, Aldo Sambrel, Alex Cox, All Cops Are Bastards, Amazon, Angel del Pozo, Austin Film Society, Bay Street Video, BBC, Bjorn Olson, Blue Underground, Chuchillo, Citta Violenta, Dennis Hopper, Devil On The Brain, Discogs, Django, Django Kill, Elusive Disc, Ennio Morricone, Fabio Testi, Faccia a Faccia, For a Few Dollars More, Francesco Rossi, Gian Maria Volonte, Gomorrah, Gruppo di Improvvisazione di Nuova Consonanza, Il Diavolo Nel Cervello, Il Etait Une Fois In Arizona, Il Gruppo, IMDb, Inglourious Basterds, JFK, Kill Bill vol. 2, Kiss Kiss... Bang Bang, La Resi Dei Conti, Le Dernier Face A Face, Lee Van Cleef, Lucky Luciano, Mélanie Laurent, Morricone, Moviedrome, Mubi, Oliver Reed, Oliver Stone, Once Upon A Time In The West, Quentin Tarantino, Repo Man, Revolver, Roberto Saviano, Run Man Run, Sacco & Vanzetti, Sergio Corbucci, Sergio Leone, Sergio Sollima, Sicario: Day of The Soldado, Sid & Nancy, Spaghetti Westerns, Stefano Sollima, Suburra, Ten-Thousand Ways To Die, The Big Gundown, The Family, The Filmography, The Group, The Last Movie, The Three Sergios, Tom Clancy, Tomas Milian, Un Amico, Violent City, Von Angesicht zu Angesicht, Without Remorse, Zero Zero Zero

Morricone

The Morricone Collection: “Veruschka” (1971)

Post author By Reece Crothers
Post date November 23, 2024

I just wanted to be a beautiful bird.
-Veruschka

**Morricone** (l) in 1971, the year he composed the score for “**Verushka**.” The Maestro is pictured here with legendary director **Sergio** **Leone** (r). The two would become synonymous with each other for their groundbreaking work on the **Clint** **Eastwood** “**Man** **With** No **Name**” trilogy, and other works.

**Veruschka** and **David** **Hemmings** in **Antonioni’s** “**Blow** Up.”

Though she is only in the film for 5 minutes, fashion superstar Veruschka is probably best known to cinephiles for her iconic appearance in Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 art-house classic, “Blow Up,” for which her image on the film’s poster has become iconic and forever synonymous with the film itself.

Lesser known is the 1971 picture directed by fashion photographer Franco Rubartelli, “Veruschka: Poetry Of A Woman,” for which this excellent Morricone score was composed.

Featuring vocals by frequent Morricone collaborator Edda Dell’Orso, the soundtrack to “Veruschka” is one of Morricone’s sweetest (and saddest) scores. Wistful, romantic, and melancholy, with sweeping string arrangements that suggest a story as grand, tragic and exciting as the life lived by “the world’s first supermodel.”

Hank Oh’s album review from turntablelab.com:

“ENNIO MORRICONE MIGHT BE BEST KNOWN FOR HIS SPAGHETTI WESTERN soundtracks for directors like Sergio Leone and Duccio Tessari, but his experimental work deserves some attention as well. Morricone’s soundtrack for Franco Rubartelli 1971 documentary Veruschka, Poesia di una Donna is one of the composer’s greatest works. The film follows Veruschka von Lehndorff, the world’s first supermodel and icon of the 60s and 70s, on a surreal journey through the Italian country side. She goes through downward spiral of self discovery that leads her through many whacked out head trips. Rubartelli creates a world that is dark and melancholy paired with stunning psychedelic eye candy and Morricone’s music matches it every step of the way. It’s a haunting work of music that shifts from mood to mood over the course of the LP. Beautiful female vocals float over sublime grooves at one point only to move towards darker moments further down the line. Atonal passages signal tension while more jazz based moments serve to ease it. There are many takes of various themes throughout the soundtrack, creating different vibes with each version. Truly fantastic material from Morricone. Dagored, the Italian record label that specialized in soundtracks from composers like Morricone, has recently resurrected itself with this latest batch of soundtracks. Limited edition double vinyl pressing with reinterpreted cover on the front and original cover on the back.”

From the album sticker:

“Ennio Morricone’s soundtrack for the 1971 documentary “Veruschka: Poesia Di Una Donna” about the legendary and the world’s first supermodel VERUSHKA (a real ’60s/’70s icon that starred in several cult movies including “Blow Up,” “Salome,” and “Colour Chair“).

Alternate Pressings:

Posters:

The iconic image of **David** **Hemmings** straddling **Verushka** that has become synonymous with **Antonioni’s** film.

Misc. Images:

**Vogue** **Magazine’s** “**The** **Veruschka** **Issue**.”

Links:

Listen to Morricone’s score here:

Watch “Versushka” the Morricone-scored documentary directed by Franco Rubartelli for free on YouTube here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q83Kg8hNkh0

Listen to the complete score here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKIAA4kFZFI

Watch “Blow Up” for free on YouTube here:

Watch the famous Veruschka scene from “Blow Up” here:

Watch the documentary “Veruschka: Life Before The Camera” here:

Purchase a vinyl copy of the soundtrack at Discogs here:

Purchase the vinyl online from twoheadeddog.com here:

https://www.twoheadeddog.com/ennio-morricone-veruschka-ost-lp

Purchase a copy of the vinyl record at turntableslab.com

Ennio Morricone: Veruschka OST Vinyl 2LP

Watch “Veruschka: The Supermodel Who Became a Work of Art” on YouTube here:

Watch style.com’s short Veruschka doc: “The Most Beautiful Woman In The World on YouTube here:

Veruschka: The Most Beautiful Woman In The World

Tags Blow Up, Clint Eastwood, Dagored, David Hemmings, Duccio Tessari, Edda Dell'Orso, Ennio Morricone, Franco Rubartelli, Hank Oh, Michelangelo Antonioni, Poesia di una Donna, Poetry Of A Woman, Salome, Sergio Leone, The Colour Chair, The Man With No Name trilogy, turntablelab, Veruschka, Veruschka von Lehndorff

Morricone

The Morricone Collection: “Comandamenti Per Un Gangster” (1968)

Post author By Reece Crothers
Post date November 23, 2024

From the album sticker:

“For this 1968 cult Italian thriller based on a script by Dario Argento, the Maestro Ennio Morricone composed a dark and oppressive score, with experimental and avant-garde elements that describes perfectly the brutality of the plot”

Alan Bishop’s album review from Forced Exposure’s website:

“This is an obscure 1968 mafia film score that begins with a short dramatic theme complete with pounding tympani, a horn section, distorted electric piano, ascending strings and a monumental vocal chorus. This title track has been a neglected masterpiece of sound forgotten over time. The same can be said for the lovely vocal track Solo Nostalgia sung by Jane Relly set to echoed drums, electric bass, and baroque organ. The screenplay to the film was co-written by Dario Argento and the balance of music is a pastiche of dark moods and colorfully orchestrated intensity. Dagored had great taste in prioritizing this LP for reissue.”

https://www.forcedexposure.com/Features/alan-bishop-morricone/ReviewMorricone.html

Earlier Pressings:

The Film:

From Mubi’s synopsis of director Alfio Caltabiano’s 1968 Italian crime picture, “Comandamenti Per Un Gangster” (aka “Commandments For A Gangster“):

Still from “**Comandamenti Per Un Gangster**.”

“Norton is a retired gangster who wants to avenge the death of his sister, who was married to Frank Cline. Cline disappeared while transporting a large shipment of the Organization’s gold, leaving three dead bodies before him. “

The screenplay for “Comandamenti Per Un gangster” was co-written by legendary horror director (and frequent Morricone collaborator) Dario Argento.

An edgy, young **Dario Argento** with his favourite prop.

Posters:

Turkish Poster for “**Comandamenti** **Per** Un **Gangster**” (aka “**The** **Hell** **Before** **Death**“).

The Morricone Collection: “Wolf” (1994)

Post author By Reece Crothers
Post date November 22, 2024
2 Comments on The Morricone Collection: “Wolf” (1994)

Power without guilt. Love without doubt. It feels good to be Wolf… doesn’t it?
-Dr. Alezais, “Wolf.”

From the liner notes:

Working with Ennio Morricone and the resultant score was the most gratifying experience I’ve had in a long life of making movies. His extraordinary music has the mystery and integrity of the work of a great composer. But Morricone is very much a film composer. He is unmatched at finding the secrets and the undercurrents of a scene in a film and of its overall story. Working with a true artist is always an enlightening experience. I was very happy working on ‘Wolf‘ with Morricone and I am happy with the result.
-Mike Nichols.

This is a film of the highest level and of great importance for the cinema. The musical score was a very elaborate and complex process. Certain pieces were widely discussed between Mike Nichols and myself with great care and passion, so as to find the creative balance within each piece between the poetic and the primitive, the romantic and the naturalistic. The process of creating this two-fold interpretation composed many intense and passionately creative moments between Mike Nichols and myself.
-Ennio Morricone.

This 2017 Music On Vinyl pressing of Morricone’s 1994 score is part of their excellent Ennio Morricone Classic Soundtrack Series (see image below for the complete collection).

Legendary Director **Mike** **Nichols** smiles in a publicity photo for “**Wolf**.”

**Nichols** directing **Nicholson** and **Michelle** **Pfeiffer** on location.

In Mike Nichols‘ 1994 romantic-horror film, “Wolf,” Jack Nicholson stars as Will Randle, a mild-mannered publishing executive who is losing his wife and job to the machinations of his slippery, duplicitous protegé, James Spader, until he is bitten by a wolf one night on a dark back road and begins to act…strangely.

Nicholson as the man who will become **Wolf**.

**Nicholson** with the always excellent **Kate** **Nelligan** (see “**Frankie** & **Johnny**” – also starring **Michelle** **Pfeiffer** – for further evidence) as his unfaithful wife, and **James** **Spader** as his conniving protogé.

As he begins to transform into the Wolf of the title, he begins a romantic relationship with Michelle Pfeiffer, the daughter of Nicholson’s publishing mogul boss (Christopher Plummer) .

**Pfeiffer** in Lobby Card for “**Wolf**.”

**Nicholson** & **Pfeiffer** grace the cover of the now defunct **Premiere** magazine, for which 12-year-old Reece had a subscription.

Links:

Listen to Morricone’s score for “Wolf” here:

Complete score on YouTube.

Watch the trailer for Mike Nichols‘ “Wolf” here:

Trailer on YouTube.

Watch Nicholson get bitten here:

The Bite on YouTube.

Watch an excellent Om Puri explain the legend of the Wolf to Nicholson (in one of my favourite scenes) here:

Dr. Alezais scene from Wolf on YouTube.

See Nicholson’s transformation (old-school make-up and prosthetics, not CGI) into the Wolf here:

The Transformation on YouTube.

Watch the climactic fight sequence between Nicholson and Spader here:

Duelling Werewolves on YouTube.

Discover the story behind the making of “Wolf” here:

The Story of “Wolf” on YouTube.

Purchase a vinyl copy of Morricone’s “Wolf” at Discogs here:

https://www.discogs.com/release/10938422-Ennio-Morricone-Wolf?srsltid=AfmBOopJtpkYSElb-5lKVccX0sE-scxm6wnagrXt0HD__95x5Fb6DjhV

If you’re in the Greater Toronto Area, say hi to my Filmography podcast co-host, Bjorn, and rent or purchase a copy of “Wolf” at “Toronto’s last great video store” Bay Street Video.

Outside of Toronto, you can find a copy of the Indicator blu-ray on Amazon here:

Tags Amazon, Bay Street Video, Bjorn Olson, Christopher Plummer, Discogs, Ennio Morricone, Frankie & Johnny, Indicator, Jack Nicholson, James Spader, Kate Neliigan, Michelle Pfeiffer, Mike Nichols, Om Puri, Premiere Magazine, The Filmography

The Album:

Other Editions:

The Film:

The Director:

Biography

Selected filmography

References

External links

Posters:

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The Album:

Other Editions:

The Film:

The Director:

Biography

Early life

Assistant Director at Universal

Monogram Pictures

Columbia

Edward Small

1960s

1970s

Career appraisal

Partial filmography

References

Posters:

Stills:

Lobby Cards:

Links:

The Album:

Other Editions:

The Film:

The Director:

Posters:

The Novel:

Links:

Additional Releases:

The Film:

The Director:

Early life

Film career

Early films

The Battle of Algiers

Late career

Death

Pontecorvo’s Filmography:

Feature films

Documentary films

Short films

Further reading:

External links

Posters:

Links:

The Album:

Earlier Album Pressings:

The Film:

(Frank Wolff’s) Death:

Additional Film Stills:

The Director:

Biography

Early career

Later career and legacy

Filmography

Director and writer

Actor

References

Film Posters:

Links:

The Album

The Film:

The Director:

Earlier Album Release:

Posters:

Links:

Other Pressings:

The Film:

The Director:

Title Sequence:

Posters:

Links: