Morricone, wide as the sea

Giuseppe Tornatore photographed Ennio Morricone with the reverence of a well-cared for junior for his grandmaster. "Ennio: The Maestro," a 150-minute documentary, features tornatore's lengthy interviews with Morricone and film clips, interspersed with people's memories and opinions about him. The editing is good, with multiple conversations tied into tight dialogues by invisible ropes, and The humming of Morricone and the directors morphing into old movie scenes. The last half-hour was a dog's tail, with Oscar's recognition of the aged Morricone's lifetime achievement and Quentin Tarantino's rave praise for him (more than Mozart or Beethoven) having the air of a final verdict. Anyone who has watched several of Morricone's 500 films, or watched the first two hours of the documentary, will agree that the last half hour is superfluous. And while recognition brings joy to the master, and perhaps tears, no more than he does when he's composing, or even when he's exercising slowly at the beginning of the film.

I've never seen an old man with morricone's clear, bright eyes. His eyes were very impressive, unlike most people whose eyelids completely covered the whites of their eyes when they grew old, leaving only the eyeballs, which were empty and straight into their souls. Mr Morricone, wearing reading glasses, magnified the wonder of untarnished years. The documentary avoids most of his personal life, skimping on the influence of his childhood trumpeter father, his ever-smiling wife Maria, his most important mentor, Gofredo Pietri, and chess. It makes no mention of his other passion: football. Chess taught him "the struggle of life". That said, it's still hard to imagine how Morricone, who had only one love in his life and lived a simple life, could read people like a first-rate novelist, unearthing treasures for every director he worked with and every film he made. Five hundred movies are as wide as the sea, and you can feel the waves just by watching the clips, let alone by setting them all to music. Ennio Morricone and his wife, maria morricone, the love of their life, sometimes appeared to be on the verge of falling asleep during the first preview. The director who is familiar with him is not sure whether he is dozing off, or like a master in a western movie.

Antonio Monda has published an oral account of 15 interviews with Morricone, focusing on the master's film collaborators. I prefer this film version of the interview, the only theme is music, even the master himself is behind the music.

Listen to Ennio Morricone talk about music, talk, mime and hum about the birth of movie music. How the trumpet shift in A Fistful of Dollars (1964) affected Clint Eastwood's performance (he was only the first, followed by Robert De Niro, who required the soundtrack to be played on set). While Cerriccio Leone insisted on using whistles and trumpets again in "For A Few Dollars More" (1965), Morricone had his own rules. Mr Morricone had two principles in his career for most of the century: he refused to repeat himself; Don't want the director to use someone else's music in his own film.

Clint Eastwood -- "Red Dead Redemption" Counterpoint has been ennio Morricone's theme throughout his life. His counterpoint in music, consciously or unconsciously, reflects his ambivalence in the transition between experimental music and classical melody, and between film composer and composer. When John Cage was experimenting with sound at a music festival where serious composers gathered, Morricone also started making non-trumpet sounds with trumpets. The famous sound effect in "Once Upon a Time in the West" (1968) came from his twisting of a long ladder.

"Sound is music." He then tried using "sound" instead of "melody" for three pioneering films in a row, until he was told: "They all sound the same, and you'll lose your job because of it, and no director will ever come back to you."

"He created a parallel film with music." "-- Bernardo Bertolucci, The Desert of The Tartars (1976), A dream of youth left behind. Valerio Surini wanted to hear the four notes morricone once struck on the piano. These four notes later became the theme song of the film, the song of the five bugles chasing each other in front of the snow-capped mountains, symbolizing the imaginary enemy that will never come, galloping toward the final disillusionment.

Leon listens to Morricone play "Once Upon A Time In America." Morricone has always believed that less is more. He could make a song out of the four notes of a quadruple beat by pounding them in turns, drawing inspiration from the howling of coyotes and marching drums outside his window. So Morricone's music is moving, and even the dullest of musics can remember a little recurring, shifting melody; That's why he's so broad, from pop songs to symphonies, experimental music to jazz. It is also because morricon's heart is pure and emotional, and there are moments in the book and in the film when he recalls his beloved. Ennio Morricone walked on with more and more memories, the blank sheet of paper waiting for him to write. He wanted an idea to take root, to branch out, to move the trees, to chase that idea. "What is the chase? I don't know."