By
Mark Butler
May
17, 2018
Has
any piece of movie music more perfectly reflected the concept of ‘nemesis’ than
Ennio Morricone‘s stunning, ominous ‘Man With A Harmonica’ theme?
As
Charles Bronson’s vengeful loner pursues the murderous Frank in Sergio Leone’s
1968 masterpiece Once Upon a Time in The West, the composer’s explosive,
powerful work conveys the solemn thrill of someone about to dispense bloody
justice – and the creeping fear of a villain whose violent past is finally
catching up with him.
It
is, in short, the sonic embodiment of a reckoning.
Fifty
years on, Morricone’s blistering, beautiful and spellbinding music for Once
Upon a Time in The West has lost none of its potency.
A score that inspired a movie
Most
films have their composers put music to images far into post-production. These
days, temp tracks are common right until the last possible moment. But such was
Leone’s faith in his collaboration with Morricone, which had already spawned
the hit ‘Dollars’ trilogy, he had him compose the key themes before filming –
and played the music during the shoot in order to inspire his cast.
What
inspiration those actors must have received.
Morricone’s
beautiful main theme for Once Upon a Time in the West, which first plays as
Claudia Cardinale’s Jill arrives alone at the train station, perfectly captures
and drives home the bittersweet essence of Leone’s film.
Edda
Dell’Orso’s haunting operatic vocals, accompanied by shudder-inducing chimes
and strings, are mournful and heart-breaking. They evoke a sense of boundless
loss and longing.
But
then the orchestra builds to a triumphant flourish as the camera rises to show
us the expanding bustle of activity, and rise of civilisation, against the
stunning, expansive backdrop of the Old West.
The
marriage of music and visuals reflects the pioneer spirit of the shifting
landscape, and Jill’s hope for a better life, but also the brutality and
despair that ‘civilization’ is bringing with it. The coming railroad literally
sends death out into the frontier in the shape of Henry Fonda’s ruthless
enforcer, Frank, who guns down Jill’s new husband and his family in a bid to
secure their land. Against this dichotomy, the music is unspeakably moving.
Tragedy, mystery and conflict
As
for the aforementioned harmonica piece, it’s a visceral, exciting counterweight
to the soaring main theme.
It
almost always accompanies impending bloodshed or – at the very least – the
threat of it. Cleverly integrating the character’s own playing into the score,
it blurs the lines between the sound of the film’s reality, and our own as a
viewing audience.
Almost
all of the film’s principal characters are tragic in some way, and Morricone’s
score reflects that. Through sorrowful music cues, it even finds room to make
us feel some semblance of pity and empathy for corrupt railroad tycoon Morton –
who dreamed of reaching the Ocean, but is left crawling helplessly towards a
puddle with the sadistic Frank leering over him.
The sound of silence
There’s
irony, of course, in the fact that no music whatsoever appears in the iconic,
slow-burning opening sequence – save for Bronson’s spine-tingling burst of
harmonica.
But
the movie’s use of tense, suspenseful silence at key moments only makes the
arrival of Morricone’s score more impactful. When the aforementioned harmonica
breaks the air of stillness, it induces an eerie, foreboding thrill; as
surprising for us as it is for Frank’s doomed henchmen.
The
murder of McBain and his children, meanwhile, is another scene that uses the lack
of sound quite deliberately to build tension before and during the terrible act
itself.
The
soundtrack surges to life only as Frank’s posse themselves emerge from their
hiding places once the deed is done. Again, it is scintillating.
As
if to sum up Morricone’s contribution, Bronson’s quiet, watchful character
speaks only sparely – preferring to let his harmonica (and Bronson’s
brilliantly craggy yet expressive features) do the talking.
Harmonica’s
simmering emotions under a cool, collected exterior, and the question of just
how Frank wronged him, are resolved in cathartic fashion at the film’s end. In
a reversal of the opening scene, his vengeance theme plays once more for a
harrowing, revelatory flashback, before we suddenly snap to music-free silence
for the showdown’s pay off.
The greatest ‘spaghetti
western’ – the greatest score?
Morricone’s
score for Once Upon a Time in The West may not be as ingrained in popular
culture as his music for The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, or the other ‘Dollars’
films for that matter.
But
the film is arguably the greatest of Sergio Leone’s ‘spaghetti westerns’:
profound, emotional, and thematically rich, as well as being atmospheric,
captivating of vision, and – above all else – majestic of music.
It
is the culmination of Leone’s immersion in the violence and wonder of the
American West, and of Morricone’s musical imagining of that backdrop.
Now
89, Morricone is still producing great music. But even among a career of
celebrated highs, 50 years on Once Upon a Time in the West stands as his opus.
An unparalleled driving force of the images and story it serves.
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