A few days after the arrival of the year
1000, bearer of great misfortune according to the Prophets,
the cavalryman Fortunato and two soldiers, Pannocchia and
Carestia, travel through Italy in the midst of numerous adventures:
The prophetic year is marked only by the discovery on the
part of the cavalryman of his wife's betrayal...
Director:
Franco Indovina
Cast:
Franco Parenti, Carmelo Bene, Marina Berti, Giancarlo Dettori,
Folco Lulli, Philippe Hersent, Gordon Mitchell, Federico Boido,
Puccio Ceccarelli, Cosimo Cinieri, Geoffrey Colpleston, Vincenzo
Falanga, Voriano Ginesi, Gabriella Giorgelli, Dino Ivaldi,
Rossano Jalenti, John Karlsen, Anna Maestri, Gianni Nidito,
Michele Passacantilli, Charles Rolands. |
Superstitions are many at the turn of a millennium,
as we could witness some ten years ago. According to Luigi
Malerba and Tonino Guerra's book, 'Storie dell'anno Mille'
(1970), this was already the case in the year 1000. Their
hero of several books, Millemosche, horseman without a horse,
goes through comical vicissitudes together with Pannocchia
and Carestia, two dim-witted characters he meets after a battle
where they are the only survivors. Together, they are 'three
in the year 1000' (Tre nel mille).
Adapted the same year by Franco Indovina for the television,
the 4-part series was trimmed down into a movie for theatrical
release in 1971, where it didn't meet the viewer's expectations.
It was said to be too close to the successful 'L'armata Brancaleone'
(1966) by Mario Monicelli, a Vittorio Gassman vehicle, but
missing the irony and the contemporary satire of its forerunner.
The actors didn't have Gassman's aura either: Franco Parenti
was playing Fortunato (the new name of Millemosche), and Carmelo
Bene and Giancarlo Dettori were portraying his two new friends.
Sadly, it turned out to be the last movie of Indovina, who
died the year after in a plane crash.
Indovina had already worked with Ennio Morricone on two occasions:
'Menage all'italiana' in 1965, and 'Giochi particolari' also
in 1970. But here, he seems to have turned to Egisto Macchi
first. Macchi, a very prolific composer and a dear friend
of Morricone (both were members of the Gruppo d'improvvisazzione
Nuova Consonanza, and Morricone wrote an 'Elegia per Egisto'
when his friend died in 1992), wrote for the television series
a colourful score, out of gear and merrily chaotic. This approach
is completely in contrast with the music Morricone came up
with, when commissioned a score for the theatrical release:
much more subdued and quiet, as if the change of composer
was also an opportunity of changing the mood of the movie,
possibly judged too confused at the first screenings. Note
that the exact chronology of events is questionable, but it
seems that the tv-series with Macchi's score was the originally
intended format, even though it was only shown on tv in 1973,
when its theatrical condensed version with Morricone's score
was already long forgotten. Giorgio Nataletti, a musicologist
specialised in traditional Italian music, also gets credited
for the tv-series, most likely for the selection of period
pieces.
Exclusively available so far on a rare LP (released in 1979)
from the now cult Cometa series, the music of Morricone is
now released on CD, with extra cues. The mood of the score
is mostly set by the main theme, 'Ballata trovatica' (the
Troubadour Ballad), a very disillusioned piece of calm music,
seemingly unrelated to the troubadour tradition: those medieval
poets/composers were known to be more joyful and entertaining.
First played by a guitar over a section of soft strings, it
is reprised later by a delicate harp again over strings. The
guitar and the harp are back later for the two previously
unreleased versions of the theme.
The oddity of the track title applies by the way to many
other tracks: those mentioning a lute are not dominated by
that ancient plucked string instrument, neither do those referring
to a zampogna necessarily showcase those traditional Italian
pipes.
But don't let this put you down, as this score has quite
a few jewels worth discovering. Two tracks unquestionably
stand out. 'Elegia con interruzione' (Elegy with interruption)
is dominated by a bassoon, wind instruments and human voices,
and alternates varied ingredients ranging from the confused
mix of notes (maybe a lute and a zampogna among them?) to
an ethereal female choir, a male chorus and soft percussions
providing the rhythm elements. A truly appealing piece of
music. Morricone will find again this brilliant vein in scores
like 'I magi randagi' (1996) - listen, for example, to 'Saltarello
gioioso' from that later score. A nice companion to this track
is the one called 'La grande zampogna' (the big zampogna)
for wind instruments, human voices and... lute. Not such an
awesome achievement, but still nice to include on your playlist.
The other outstanding piece from 'Tre nel mille' is the much
too short 'Maiali e altri animali' (Pigs and other animals),
for human voices only. The inimitable Cantori Moderni di Alessandroni
must have had a lot of fun recording this piece, where each
singer reproduces the screams and groans of different animals.
Something to have your children listen to. The first unreleased
piece, 'Canto degli uccelli' (Chant of the Birds) ideally
prolongs it with bird screams.
'Responsori per liuto e voci' (Responsories for lute and
voices), this time really introducing a lute and human voices,
is an alleviating piece of laid back music, in the vein of
the 'Primo Rito' and 'Secondo Rito' from 'Escalation'. A responsory
is usually a Christian liturgical chant, where a choir responds
to the verses of a solo voice. Here, the voices are wordless,
but they do seem to respond to the lute however.
We mentioned the 'saltarello' from 'I magi randagi' above,
a hopping dance which Morricone has used on several occasions,
including in 'Tre nel mille' as 'Saltarello dei tre pupazzi'
(Saltarello of the three puppets), played by hand drums and
mandolins, for a very Italian Middle-Age ambiance. It is reprised
later, with a modified melody, by a chorus of children in
another previously unreleased piece.
The pieces called 'La voce del liuto' and 'Le voci del liuto'
(the voice(s) of the lute - but no lute to be heard here)
maintain the soft mood introduced by the 'Ballata trovatorica'.
Such is also the case of 'La vallata di Firenze', but in a
more anxious mode this time. The 'Canto per liuto' (Chant
for lute, but no chant here and no lute) mix the two main
trends of the score: the guitar of the 'Ballata' and the confused
woodwind instruments over a bassoon of 'Elegia' et al., whereas
'La piccola zampogna' (no zampogna again, not even a small
one) and 'Arrivo al castello' can easily be skipped, as they
sound more like everybody was having a drowsy day. More interesting,
although not easy to listen to, is the other piece, previously
unreleased, called 'Arrivo al castello', with high-pitched
woodwinds, reminiscent of 'I Mongoli' from 'Marco Polo', and
a bassoon, for an upsetting conclusion of the album.
Such a discreet score would have suffered a lot from a casual
CD pressing, as it deserves some uplifting in order to reveal
its true value. Luckily on this CD, all the tracks have been
controlled second by second and completely remastered, achieving
a quite remarkable result. This release is explicitly targeted
at collectors, and as such fully fits its purpose. It still
uses the cover of the LP, not related to the movie itself
because of the lack of material back in 1979, but the booklet
contains pictures from the movie. Thanks to the people at
Cometa, who seem to have realized the importance of the music
which lies in their vaults, a cult soundtrack from the Maestro
is now available on a good-quality CD for us to enjoy. Not
to be missed by any true Morricone fan.
Didier Thunus
Brussels, June 2010 |
