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Rating: The magical friend is such because he manages to touch people with his stories full of memories and feelings: a prank with friends, first love, the pains of war. He tells stories and we listen. Sometimes we cry.
Avion Travel (no longer just a small orchestra) have dedicated an album to their magical friend, Nino Rota, who, to be honest, is a bit of a magical friend to all of us. With his music, he gave a melodious voice to Italian cinema and to a people who hoped for the future after the heavy experience of war. For the insightful minds of the golden age of cinema, he wrote, wrote, wrote. Not only for "the Homeland." Thanks to the quality of our films, he had the honor of writing for someone overseas as well.
The album was arranged by Avion Travel themselves with the help of Maestro Fabrizio Francia for the orchestral part. Who would have thought that soundtracks could become delightful jazz pieces? The orchestra is almost an add-on, it is not the Avion trying to fit in, almost as if seeking a place in a world that does not concern them. Yes, because a project like this risks being arrogant and overpowering. Instead, Avion Travel manages not to distort the scores, sometimes letting themselves be accompanied with rightful decision by winds and violins, while a buzzing synthesizer serves as background. It is an album that cradles, without a doubt, but never boring.
The films we can relive are in order: "La dolce vita," with the opening track "Parlami di te," a delicate serenade accompanied by piano and double bass followed immediately by "Pelle bianca," a song by Caetano Veloso that Peppe Servillo adapted into Italian. Then we go to America. The next two tracks are from "The Godfather," "The Immigrant" and "Brucia la terra," the first of which is a loving courtship between guitar and orchestra... as for the second, I don't even dare to talk about it. Everyone knows that laconic song sung in a Sicilian-English. For the first time on the album, we hear an electronic synthesizer. Very pleasant. Continuing with the listening, we move on to the ultra-romantic "Ai giochi addio" from Zeffirelli's "Romeo and Juliet" soundtrack. I would like to point this piece out as the best of the album. I have no words to describe the transport I felt in hearing this poignant melody. Which indeed has to be followed by a piece of appropriate charge. Do you remember "Film d'amore e d'anarchia" by Lina Wertmuller? The "Canzone arrabbiata" was sung by Anna Melato. This version proposed on the album does not disappoint. Another aspect emerges. More detached and strong compared to the film version. Another noteworthy piece is "Amarcord" (one of Rota's most famous melodies), with a slightly '80s beginning perhaps, but certainly pleasant. Shall we take a trip to Naples? "Llà rì lli rà" from "Le notti di Cabiria" brings us back to earth with a magnificent dialectal piece. Just the one where they made the best use of the Moog synthesizer. Perhaps to create a marked break with the following "Gelsomina" from "La strada," in which the protagonists are only Peppe Servillo and the orchestra. The most cheerful piece of all is "Bevete più latte," from "Le tentazioni del dottor Antonio" (an episode from the film "Boccaccio '70"), a funny jingle from the fascist era. And the rhythm is kept with the following "Quello che non si dice." From "The Godfather." The album closes beautifully with a reprise of "Amarcord" and, of course, "La passerella di 8 e 1/2," a pleasant piece that has closed many shows.
Didn't you notice anything? Federico Fellini loved Rota very much. So much that he chose him for nearly all of his works. And what if he were the Magical Friend?
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