Drills. Coyotes. Belches. Typewriters. In a career spanning seven decades, Italian composer Ennio Morricone has never shied away from incorporating natural sound into his work, and has happily embraced the dissonance of musique concète in his concert pieces.

However, he has never tried to interpolate dozens of screaming V8 engines into an arrangement of Deborah’s Theme from Once Upon a Time in America before. And I doubt he ever will again, certainly not in Australia. Having been enticed to play at the opening night of the Adelaide Arts Festival, after being wooed for no less than seven years, Morricone, who has been on an exhaustive – and given he’s turning 84 this year, probably exhausting as well – series of concerts since 2001 agreed to bring his concert program to Australia. A unique opportunity for Australians to hear firsthand the music of the world’s greatest living film composer.

Unfortunately, the festival organisers made a dreadful gaffe by scheduling the concert against the Clipsal 500, a race meeting for V8 supercars which each year roars around the streets of Adelaide. Although there was supposed to have been an agreement that the race would finish before the concert’s 7:30 start time, the racing was still clearly heard until 8:15, when the Premier, Jay Wetherill, who was attending the concert, put in a call to the Clipsal organisers and ordered them to cut engines. This of course infuriated the race-goers, and events in Adelaide have since devolved into an ugly argument dividing across class lines, and has resulted in some unfortunate reinforcement of Adeliade having a small-town mentality when it comes to the arts.

I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have seen Morricone perform this program in various forms many times, and if the opportunity arises will gladly do so again in the future. He has constructed and fine-tuned a concert program that in two all-too-short hours brilliantly encompasses the scope and depth of his work. He brilliantly weaves in challenging works like Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion and The Working Class Go to Heaven, with familiar ‘hits’ such as Cinema Paradiso and The Good the Bad and the Ugly. He is as proud of his late sixties lounge sensibilities as exemplified by Come Maddelena as he is with the grandiose beauty of Once Upon a Time in the West, and finds time for material from films hardly anyone has even heard of, much less seen (H2S for example). The ‘showstoppers’ of the program are The Ecstasy of Gold from The Good the Bad and the Ugly. Abolisson from Queimada! aka Burn!), and On Earth As it Is in Heaven from The Mission.

These last three, along with the sadly beautiful Casualties of War were brought to life by the 100-strong Adelaide Festival Chorus.

For me, the V8s were a annoyance I could (just) put to one side and didn’t detract from my own enjoyment. Though the emptying of a skip full of glass bottles into a metal bin – by the festival organisers own catering crew – was straining incredulity to the limit. I wasn’t close enough to the stage to see Morricone’s face, but I imagine he was on the verge of apoplexy. He has in fact halted a concert once in Ghent, Belgium, when hammering and drilling from next door became untenable, so I was half expecting him to down baton and walk off. That anxiety was, for me, worse than the noise itself.

But, ultimately, the concert was an utter joy. At almost 84 its becoming inevitable that this could be the last time I see him in concert, but, as one colleague said afterward, his bucket list was complete.

For icing on the cake, Morricone was in conversation the following morning with David Stratton, the film historian and TV film critic, prior to a showing of the extended cut of The Good the Bad and the Ugly. Speaking via an interpreter, Morricone was generous with his time and replies to standard questions, offering tantalising glimpses into not only his working practices, but his feelings toward directors he has worked with. He noted interestingly that Roland Joffe, the director of The Mission offered little guidance and it was left to the films’ producer, Fernando Ghia to discuss with Morricone the musical direction of the film. Also, he talked about The Thing, about which much talk has been made over the years about whether Morricone actually wrote the very Carpenter-esque electronic theme. This has been in dispute – nominally at least – mainly due to the fact Morricone’s released score is a fully orchestral piece, with no electronics at all. Morricone explained that Carpenter employed him for no better reason that he admired him greatly (he alluded to the fact that Carpenter had actually gotten married to one of the maestro’s pieces), but in fact did not know what he wanted from him musically. Morricone responded by supplying him various musical styles to choose from, including the electronic theme that ultimately appears in the film, and that’s what he chose. Carpenter ended up using this almost exclusively in the final cut, leaving the rest of Morricone’s terrifying score on the cutting room floor.

As he had a plane back to Rome to catch he wasn’t available for an audience Q&A which was a shame. With a heartfelt bow he was gone. Ever to return to Australian shores? I’d be very surprised.

Thought I’d spice things up a little bit and offer a prize to the first person who gets all ten correct. I have a sealed blu-ray of The Mission up for grabs (Region 4, so check you machine first!). So all I will reply to posts is either ‘yes’ or ‘no’, I wont say what you’ve got wrong as its unfair. Also, one try only, you’re either right, or wrong, so think before you post. I think this is fairly easy apart from a couple of stinkers. Good luck!

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Following on from yesterdays successful little quiz, here’s another stills puzzler – this time focussing  on the other king of cool – Steve McQueen. Good luck!

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Think you know your James Coburn movies? Try to guess them from the stills below. Put your answers/educated guesses in the comments section. Good luck!

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Sitting down and casting an eye over the filmography of Sidney Lumet, who died yesterday (April 9 2011) at the age of 86, several things strike me. Firstly there must be as many Lumet films I haven’t seen as those I have. Secondly, the sheer variety of the genres he tackled in his long career surprised me. Thirdly, a unifying thread – people pushed to the very limits of their emotional endurance, individuals against the group or the system. Think Network, Dog Day Afternoon, Serpico, The Hill, 12 Angry Men, The Verdict, Daniel.

But that’s only some if it. How do you explain a resumé that also includes musical remake of The Wizard of Oz? Or an all-star old-Hollywood glossy Agatha Christie whodunit? Or a quasi-euro art movie?

He is most likely to be remembered as cinema’s best exponent of a genre he made his own – the police corruption drama – particularly a New York set series of films, that began with Serpico (a film that, remarkably, he wasn’t originally set to direct), and continued with Prince of the City, Q&A, and Night Falls on Manhattan. His love of New York shone through in Bye, Bye, Braverman, The Anderson Tapes, Serpico, Network, Family Business and his final feature, Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead.

This passionately proud New Yorker was also able to brilliantly convey British attitudes and sensibilities. The Hill and The Offence showed a remarkable affinity for a particular Englishness both in emotional terms and in his visual language. The Deadly Affair, from a John Le Carre novel was a spy film that, like fellow American Martin Ritt’s The Spy Who Came in From the Cold , was a grey, bleak antidote to the world of Bond.

Lumet’s skill lay in mastery of all of these cinematic paradigms and more (a gift with ensembles for instance), but above all he was an actors’ director. He had an innate gift to bring out career-best performances in his leads. Connery for certain was never better than under Lumet’s tutelage. Peter Finch won his Oscar (posthumously) for Network. Nick Nolte was astonishing as a corrupt cop on the verge of extinction in Q&A. Paul Newman was criminally overlooked for an award as the lawyer looking at a last shot for redemption in The Verdict, Pacino’s essay of a bank robber in over his head and driven to distraction by his partner, his hostages, his gay lover, his wife and the cops in Dog Day Afternoon; Henry Fonda as the dogged voice of reason in 12 Angry Men. Lumet had the gift of teasing greatness from his casts like few other directors of his generation.

And then there’s the overlooked Lumet. James Coburn in Last of the Mobile Hotshots, James Mason in Child’s Play and The Seagull, Raf Vallone in Vue du Pont, Tony Perkins in Lovin’ Molly, Ali MacGraw in Just Tell Me What You Want; it’s scarcely believable that such a high profile and admired director should have so many little-known films on his CV.

Bu now that he’s sadly gone, maybe we can all look back and admire Lumet’s career in its entirety, and a man who loved his craft with a passion.

I had the good fortune to meet Lumet at a dinner given in his honour in New York a couple of years back. He was genuinely touched by the love in the room – the great and the good coming up one after another to offer their appreciation of one of the last great directors in American cinema.

Sidney Lumet, June 25, 1924 – April 9, 2011.

Read more about The Hill here.

Good fun to read through old copies of Films & Filming’s World Production Guide to find films that were slated to shoot but never happened, or that did get made but with alternate titles, or were originally cast differently. (Italics are mine where the film was shot but I’ve highlighted alternate names or cast members)

Jun. ’70: Irvin Kershner to direct Dirty Harry starring Frank Sinatra

Feb. ’67:  Ralph Nelson to direct The Battle Horns starring Charlton Heston and Maximillian Schell

Aug. ’67: Sam Fuller to direct Twist of the Knife starring Barry Sullivan and Arthur Kennedy

Sept. ‘ 67: Norman Jewison to direct The Tommy Crown Caper

Sept ‘ 67: Mike Nichols to direct The Graduate starring Anne Bancroft, Dustin Hoffman and Gene Hackman

Sept ’67: Joseph Sargent to direct A Time for Heroes starring Rod Taylor, Harry Guardino and Claudia Cardinale

Sept’ 67: John Sturges to direct Ice Station Zebra with Rock Hudson and Laurence Harvey

Oct. ’67: Robert Parrish to direct Avec-Avec starring James Coburn and Susannah York (Became “Duffy”)

Jul. ’69: Sidney Lumet to direct Blood Kin with James Coburn and Lynn Redgrave (Became Last of the Mobile Hot Shots)

Jul. ’69 Stuart Rosenberg to direct A Hall of Mirrors starring Paul Newman (Became WUSA)

Sept. ’66: Lewis Gilbert to direct You Only Live Twice starring Sean Connery and Wilfred Hyde-White

Oct. ’66: Frank Perry to direct The Swimmer starring Burt Lancaster and Barbara Loden (Loden was replaced by Janice Rule after Lancaster thought she upstaged him, the scene was reshot by Sydney Pollack)

Dec. ’66: Curtis Harrington to direct Games starring Catherine Deneuve (role went to Simone Signoret)

Dec. ’66: John Huston to direct Reflections in a  Golden Eye starring Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton

Jan. ’67: Robert Altman to direct Moon Shot starring James Caan and Robert Duvall (renamed Countdown)

Dec. ’70: Ken Russell to direct The Devils starring Oliver Reed and Spike Milligan

Dec. ’70: Leonard Horn to direct Going All Out starring Robert Blake, Charlotte Rampling, and Roddy MacDowell

Dec. ’70: Mervyn LeRoy to direct Cowboys and Indians starring John Wayne, Cary Grant and Anthony Quinn

Sept. ’65: Lewis Gilbert to direct Alfie starring Michael Caine, Rita Tushingham and John Mills

Sept. ’74: Peter Yates to direct Six Days of the Condor (Sydney Pollack directed Three Days of the Condor)

May ’74: Don Siegel to direct The First Deadly Sin

May ’74: Paul Newman to star in Chant of the Hawk

May ’74: Nicolas Roeg to direct Out of Africa

Mar. ’71: Peter Yates to direct Don Quixote starring Richard Burton and Topol

Mar. ’71: Ken Russell to direct The Piaf Story

Mar. ’71: Otto Preminger to direct Genesis 1948

April ’71:  Theodore J Flicker to direct Good Morning Berenger, How’s Everything Today? Not Bad. That’s Good.

Jun. ’71: Anthony Harvey to direct a Glimpse of Tiger starring Elliott Gould and Kim Darby

Nov. ’71: Michael Ritchie to direct Kansas City Prime (became Prime Cut)

Mar. ’72: Frankin J Schaffner to direct The French Lieutenants Woman

Sept. ’69: Roddy McDowell to direct Toys starring Ava Gardner, Ian McShane, Stephanie Beacham and Richard Wattis

Sept. ’69: Carol Reed to direct Nobody Loves Flapping Eagle starring Anthony Quinn

Mar. ’70: Jack Cooperman to direct Mexican 1000 starring Steve McQueen, James Garner, Bud Elkins, and Mike Nesmith

Mar. ’70: Bob Fosse to direct Burnt Offerings

May ’70: John Schlesinger to direct Bloody Sunday starring Glenda Jackson, Murray Head and Ian Bannen (Bannen was replaced by Peter Finch when he became ill with pneumonia)

Well, due to popular demand, here’s another round of screencaps to (mostly) famous 1960s movies. I think most of these are fairly easy, but there are one or two zingers to test the experts out there. Good luck as always.

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Here’s just a tiny reminder of some of the films that were enhanced by having the late John Barry provide a score. I haven’t named them, its just a visual collage of a fraction of his output. If you want to name them please do in the comments section – although some, like the first, are rather obvious.

John Barry, who died yesterday at 77 of a heart attack, defined film music in the 1960s and went on to compose some of the most enduring film music of the last decades of the twentieth century.

I stumbled onto a lifetime of film music collecting when, at age 12 I received my first proper stereo record player for my birthday and was allowed to buy an LP to go along with it.

A trip to Harlequin Records in Berwick Street, a street market centre in central London ensued, and I soon whittled my choices down to Morton Stevens’ Hawaii Five-O soundtrack or John Barry’s The Persuaders, two huge series that I was blown away with at the time. Not knowing who John Barry was, but swayed by the cover with Curtis and Moore I plumped for the classic CBS platter. It turned out to be not only The Persuaders theme, but a John Barry primer, containing a dozen of his best themes. Classics such as Thunderball and Midnight Cowboy juxtaposed with lesser known but equally catchy themes from TV’s Vendetta, and the music from the Sunsilk hairspray commercial!

John Barry and Jane Birkin

As this was 1972, I quickly saved my pocket money and a few weeks later bought the just released Diamonds are Forever soundtrack. I found this a little more challenging – it was my first underscrore, not just a procession of well known themes – but I soaked up every note like I was discovering a new language. The highlight of the album was the majestic 007 and Counting, a track that remained my favourite Bond cue for almost 40 years.

This basically kick-started a love affair with film music that remains as passionate and entrenched in my DNA now as it’s possible to be. My tastes have broadened over the years, but John Barry remains my favourite film composer.

Today I feel bereft. He hadn’t composed for nearly a decade, he was out of the public eye, yet he was part of my musical day, every day, either directly or via the many composers and musicians he’s influenced.

His gift for melody is unparalleled, his inventiveness, especially in his 60s heyday was just incredible. In the space of three years between 1965 and1968 he scored, among other things, Thunderball, Born Free, The Lion in Winter, The Knack, The Whisperers, Boom, and The Ipcress File – each displaying a unique and powerful musical voice that lived way beyond the celluloid  image they were created for.

I’m not musically trained, I can’t articulate exactly what it is about the way Barry draws a melody together, but it has something to do with his chord changes midway through a theme that has time and time again blindsided me to tears, be it in The Me I Never Knew from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Midnight Cowboy, or Eleanor’s Arrival from The Lion in Winter.

I had the pleasure of meeting John Barry briefly a few times. I staked myself out in BBC London 94.9′s Marylebone St lobby after being tipped off that he was going to be interviewed by Robert Elms for receiving his OBE. There I was, there he was. I strode over with my copy of The Wrong Box and he chuckled, remarking in that rich baritone, “Gosh, you don’t see too many of these around do you?” He dutifully autographed and I probably muttered a few inanities, before wishing him well and congratulating him on the OBE. He seemed genuinely appreciative, but who knows? A true gentleman will always show dignity even when faced with the most banal encounter.

His influence and legacy is assured. His position as one of cinema’s greatest film composers is guaranteed. But the emotional wallop his passing has caused in this film music fan is less easy to reason, less easy to express.

But, if the music was the man, then, to an extent, I knew the man, and I’ll miss him.

RIP John Barry.

The Aero Theatre will be the host to a short season of William Friedkin’s greatest quartet of films, including a talk by Friedkin himself. A great opportunity to see The Exorcist, The French Connection, Sorcerer, and To Live and Die in LA on the big screen.