Genius. Legend. Labels that are frequently worn out when bandied about. But while November 10th 2015 might be a regular ol’ Tuesday for most, today just so happens to be a great day to honor an artist who can rightfully lay claim to legendary status. I’m talking about Ennio Morricone. a.k.a. the Maestro, as he’s known and will be referred to in this article more than a dozen times.
This master of musical arrangement, sound mixing and avant-garde creativity turns a sprightly 87 today. Showing no signs of slowing down —he has european tour dates marked for 2016 and his highly anticipated first original score for Quentin Tarantino’s “The Hateful Eight” is in the can and on the horizon— Morricone’s 500+ film credits attest to his strong work ethic and passion for scoring films. So I’ve attempted the fool’s errand of diving into his discography and picking out 30 of his very best cinematic scores.
Morricone still lives in Rome, the city he was born and raised in, and famously speaks only a few words of English. You can’t get more Italian than that, but as the adage goes, his music is a universal language. He is most readily associated with the westerns of Sergio Leone, but as this list will hopefully show, his musical range extends far beyond Leone’s cinema. “They’re all my children…every score I’ve done,” he often says, which influenced a plethora of artists across musical genres: artists like Yo-Yo Ma, Goldfrapp, Black Sabbath, DJ Premiere, and Metallica have each paid Morricone homage at one point or another. He is above any other film composer past or present, barring maybe Bernard Herrmann, in revolutionizing the way we understand film music.
So, grab a good bottle of Italian red, and lend me your eyes and ears as I run down the most memorable and influential pieces from the Maestro’s staggering oeuvre.
“For A Few Dollars More” (1965)
It seems unfair to include all three scores from the ‘Dollars Trilogy’ on this list, especially considering that the whip-cracking title theme from “A Fistful of Dollars” overshadows everything else as such so overwhelmingly. Were this an “Essential” and not a “Best Of” list, “A Fistful Of Dollars” would’ve probably made it instead, but I’m of the mind that “For A Few Dollars More” is the better representative of Morricone’s revolutionary methods for Leone’s westerns. For its twangy jew’s-harps, insanely catchy guitar riffs, iconic whistling, bell tolls, church organs, and El Indio’s (Gian Maria Volonte) musical pocket watch, which “transfers your thought to a different place” and paints the psychological makeup of the character so vividly, “For A Few Dollars More” is as iconic as Clint Eastwood’s staredown.
“The Battle Of Algiers” (1966)
Even though it’s the only score on this list that has someone else’s name next to Morricone’s in the credits, leaving out “The Battle Of Algiers” would be more than a bit blasphemous, thanks to how archetypal it’s become. Due to contractual obligations, director Gillo Pontecorvo had to be credited alongside Morricone, and for “Ali’s Theme,” it was Pontecorvo who came up with the four notes that “became the essence of the film” in Morricone’s opinion. But it was the Maestro himself who arranged them into the score. With all due respect to Pontecorvo, who directed a masterpiece, he worked under the auspices of a master arranger, whose permutations of military drumming, horns and pianos light the picture’s eternal flame of revolutionary independence.
“The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly” (1966)
Aaah-eee-aaah-eee-Ahhh. Practically Morricone’s birthday jingle, this is the theme song of the wholeheartedly, bombastically subversive OST for Leone’s “The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly.” The first two entries in the ‘Dollars’ trilogy paved the way for this new sound, but I can only imagine (and seethe with eternal jealousy) what listening to the galloping rhythms, harmonicas, trumpets, and “Ecstasy of Gold” —if there was a lab for such things, scientists would prove it as one of the best pieces of film music ever composed— must have sounded like to fresh ears in the late ’60s. Some variation of “OMFG how can something sound so goddamn cool?” probably. Morricone followed his avant-garde heart and used real sounds “to give a kind of nostalgia that the film had to convey.” In the case of “The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly,” these were mainly animal sounds, namely what’s become known as the coyote howl —the Western genre was officially never the same again.
“Navajo Joe” (1966)
What, you thought Morricone only left the best of his Western scores for Sergio Leone? Per favore. He dished out his unique genius all over the mixing board for another Sergio, in this case Corbucci, and perhaps it was his pseudonym “Leo Nichols” that unleashed the beast that roams around the wild sounds of “Navajo Joe.” Catchy keys, a taste of the crazed avant-garde, emotional build-ups climaxing in dementia that anticipate his proclivity for horror (‘A Silhouette Of Doom’); the arrangements with the melodious human chants of “Navajo Joe, Navajo Joeee” —as the once-heard-forever-remembered title anthem— are some of the Maestro’s most inventive pieces in the genre. Again, we can thank Quentin Tarantino for reminding the general public of the brilliance in this soundtrack, because he repurposed some of it for “Kill Bill,” but you’d do well to seek out the original.
“Once Upon A Time In The West” (1968)
In one of his most prolific years, Morricone continued his partnership with Sergio Leone and composed what to many ears is the most gorgeous music heard in a Western film. Italian singer Edda Dell’Orso would go on to work with Morricone on numerous projects, well into his giallo phase, but her voice would sound as angelic as it does in “Once Upon A Time In The West,” accompanied by Morricone’s sensual strings. The album sold over 10 million copies worldwide, and when you hear “The Man With The Harmonica” for the 1000th time, the only question remaining is: how come it sold so little? The leitmotifs described the four principle characters in unheralded, oft-repeated but never bettered ways, which must’ve worked doubly strong, because Leone played Morricone’s music on set to get the actors in the mood. One of the greatest examples of the operatic Western, “Once Upon A Time In The West” is firmly situated in the highest of echelons when it comes to a cinematic union of image and score.
“Escalation” (1968)
This is one of those cases in Morricone’s long, workaholic history where it’s okay to throw the baby out as long as you leave the bathwater. That is to say, Roberto Faenza’s Italian dark comedy “Escalation” isn’t very good, but Morricone was firing on all cylinders at this time, churning out another unforgettable score full of pure musical joy. Stand outs include the funky “Dias Irae Psichedelico” (psychedelic is right) and its genius moment of silence, and all the “Funerale Nero” variations, which has Morricone digging into his jazz roots with trumpets that’ll give you dancing fever. The dreamy concoctions sound as if the entire orchestra was tripping on LSD, while the funkiness reminds listeners just how wide Morricone’s musical net was.
“Come Play With Me” (1968)
Better known as “Gracie Zia,” Salvatorre Samperi’s debut feature is now all but forgotten. Its positive remains are mostly emblematic in Morricone’s ridiculously fun-loving soundtrack, kicking of with the “Guerra E Pace, Pollo E Brace” and the combination of rhythmic percussion with what sounds like an entire chorus of children. “Inflicting pleasure” was part of the film’s marketing language —the story deals with an incestuous relationship between an aunt and her nephew— which describes Morricone’s main antiphon-like medley perfectly. And wait til you feast your ears on ‘Shake Introspettivo;’ with its snake-like synth, your repeat button’s gonna get abused like never before. “Come Play With Me” is also a fantastic early intro to the giallo side of Morricone, particularly with his use of disturbing lullabies.
“The Mercenary” (1968)
The second non-Sergio Leone Western that needs to be mentioned is another Sergio Corbucci film, and the task of choosing between this and “The Great Silence,” Corbucci’s other Western released in the same year, kept me up a few nights. After a few complete listens, I settled for “The Mercenary,” mostly because its signature whistle is the greatest whistle ever. With some help from long-time collaborator Bruno Nicolai, Morricone turned the “Il Mercenario” theme —especially the sonorous “L’Arena” variation that Tarantino repurposed— into one of his greatest Western compositions. Just try listening to that romantically melancholic guitar in “Liberta” without getting goose bumps.
“The Sicilian Clan” (1969)
Before “Once Upon A Time In America” and “The Untouchables,” Morricone stamped his ingenious penchant for melodious crime films in Henri Verneuil’s “The Sicilian Clan.” The film that inspired one of Morricone’s most recognizable pieces, most likely from its intimidating trio of suave poster-boys: Alain Delon, Jean Gabin and Lino Ventura. The jew’s-harps and whistles marry this crime caper with the mood of one of Morricone’s Westerns, but with only some graceful jazz (“Snack Bar”) acting as an interlude, the inimitable music for “The Sicilian Clan” thrives in restlessly paced pieces like “Tema Per Le Gofi” and, of course, the main ostinato that drips with sensual nostalgia and electric cool. Impossible not to hum for hours on end after listening to it.
“Burn!” (1969)
Whether you know it by its Italian name, “Queimada” or its wonderfully to-the-point English title, you know that what this Gillo Pontecorvo film has besides one of the more incredible Marlon Brando performances is Ennio Morricone’s most emotionally rousing soundtrack. The opening canto of “Abolisson, abolisson!” brings to mind the revolutionary free spirit that Morricone had an incredible knack for translating into music —the louder it grows, the more emphatically your hairs stand up. As with most everything he conducted during this time period, Morricone captured the essence of a motion picture in notes, harmonies and arrangements. His ‘Jose Dolores’ theme is one of the best examples of simple chords conducted into something wholly profound.