Darn you, Hugh Hewitt
Hugh Hewitt made me cry today.
I had errands to do this afternoon, and in between one place and another, I listened to Hugh Hewitt. In addition to talking about the cartoon controversy and other world events, Hugh was -- for some reason he may have explained earlier -- playing Ennio Morricone movie scores. And then he played the one that always makes me cry. Cinema Paradiso.
Every time I hear Morricone's lush, lilting theme for Cinema Paradiso, I recall the final scene over which it plays. And every time I remember that final scene -- one of the best in movie history -- I cry. Cinema Paradiso is a very good movie, even a great movie, but its last scene is one of those moments that transcends even the lovely movie of which it is a part. It manages to sound the chords of memory, loss, redemption -- even, at the risk of getting all Freudian on you, the return of the repressed -- in a way that is connected both to the life of its protagonist and to the lives of all those people sitting in the aisles with the silver light and blue shadow flickering across their faces.
Remember? Remember how the projectionist of the small-Sicilian-town cinema, who has become the young protagonist's mentor and friend, has to provide advance screenings of films for the town's priests? Remember how the priests ring a bell every time a film ventures into some murky, morally objectionable territory, which is usually a passionate kiss between the romantic leads? Remember how the ringing bell warns the projectionist to cut the offending footage in order to keep the townspeoples' immortal souls out of danger? And then, at the end, when the protagonist has become a successful film director, remember the package he receives from his now-dead friend and mentor? A spliced-together length of celluloid, right? And when he takes it to a screening room and plays it, and the shadows begin to flicker across his face, and the score gathers and swells and breaks and gathers again, you know what he sees -- what we see -- on the screen, don't you?
Well, if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you.
Cinema Paradiso is a movie for people who love movies -- or simply for people who admire the infinite capacity of human beings to take the discrete bits of chaos and experience and love and grief that make up our lives and give them order and shape and beauty. And it's a movie for those who understand how "liberal," and how liberating, a project that can be. I was going to make some tortured point about self-censorship, artistic freedom and the Danish cartoons here, but it doesn't belong.
Let's, instead, sit back and enjoy the show. And let's thank God nobody is sitting at the back of the theater ringing a bell.
I had errands to do this afternoon, and in between one place and another, I listened to Hugh Hewitt. In addition to talking about the cartoon controversy and other world events, Hugh was -- for some reason he may have explained earlier -- playing Ennio Morricone movie scores. And then he played the one that always makes me cry. Cinema Paradiso.
Every time I hear Morricone's lush, lilting theme for Cinema Paradiso, I recall the final scene over which it plays. And every time I remember that final scene -- one of the best in movie history -- I cry. Cinema Paradiso is a very good movie, even a great movie, but its last scene is one of those moments that transcends even the lovely movie of which it is a part. It manages to sound the chords of memory, loss, redemption -- even, at the risk of getting all Freudian on you, the return of the repressed -- in a way that is connected both to the life of its protagonist and to the lives of all those people sitting in the aisles with the silver light and blue shadow flickering across their faces.
Remember? Remember how the projectionist of the small-Sicilian-town cinema, who has become the young protagonist's mentor and friend, has to provide advance screenings of films for the town's priests? Remember how the priests ring a bell every time a film ventures into some murky, morally objectionable territory, which is usually a passionate kiss between the romantic leads? Remember how the ringing bell warns the projectionist to cut the offending footage in order to keep the townspeoples' immortal souls out of danger? And then, at the end, when the protagonist has become a successful film director, remember the package he receives from his now-dead friend and mentor? A spliced-together length of celluloid, right? And when he takes it to a screening room and plays it, and the shadows begin to flicker across his face, and the score gathers and swells and breaks and gathers again, you know what he sees -- what we see -- on the screen, don't you?
Well, if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you.
Cinema Paradiso is a movie for people who love movies -- or simply for people who admire the infinite capacity of human beings to take the discrete bits of chaos and experience and love and grief that make up our lives and give them order and shape and beauty. And it's a movie for those who understand how "liberal," and how liberating, a project that can be. I was going to make some tortured point about self-censorship, artistic freedom and the Danish cartoons here, but it doesn't belong.
Let's, instead, sit back and enjoy the show. And let's thank God nobody is sitting at the back of the theater ringing a bell.
posted by Kate Marie | 12:23 AM | Permalink
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5 comments
5 Comments:
That is a great post and summary of one of my favorite movies. I saw it back when it won Best Foreign Film and have tried to watch it at least once a year since. Everyone I recommend the film to loves it. We just all agree that the cut/edition that came out first is the one to watch, not the more recent "Director's Cut." That latter one destroys the beauty and innocence of his love for her; it ends up a crude and vulgar expression of what seems to be a youthful and beautiful and real love for a young lady, a bella donna, that every young guy hopes to have one day. It was so real and I could "so" relate to his experience. To see it expressed in such an ugly way runs counter to everything else--especially the beauty you mention--that Cinema Paradiso is about.
Thanks for the post. I thank Hugh for playing the music.
Gee KMa,now even the POTUS is reading your blog. Kidding aside, I enjoyed your piece very much. You know that I love the movie and the music. By my reckoning, it's the best movie theme ever. That you know of, has the AFI ever done a ranking of top movie music (written for the movie)??
W., thank you so much for the comment. I love the film, too, but I've never seen the director's cut -- fortunately for me, apparently. I'll always remember sitting in a theater blubbering like a baby at the end.
Topdog, the AFI did best "song" from a movie, but I think most of those were songs sung during the course of a movie. They're due for one about movie theme music. I'm a sucker for those AFI lists.
yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.
I come late to the dance, having just suffered through 3 days of litigating a case against perhaps the worst lawyer in the history of Western Civilization, but let me add my 2 cents. Yes W, that is a great post. Kate Marie is our writing champion. She lets Wonderdog and me carry her printer if we are good. I too loved this movie and will now go see it again.
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