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Then there are also the real masterpieces, and that's when you go with Morricone, Goblin, Nino Rota etc etc etc...

As I already mentioned in another post, your recovery of the soundtracks from '70s cinema and television, as well as the publications for sound design (or "library"), fills me with enthusiasm and makes me a fan of yours "regardless."
However, I also understand Falloppio.
These pieces of music, at least for me (but I think for many other debaserians born during the time of "Rubber Soul," to be clear), evoke strong nostalgic emotions, but this is solely because they remind us of the television works they accompanied and the nostalgia for that magical era, which is childhood (Carosello and then to bed).
This, though, prevents us from making a more balanced musical judgment. In short, nostalgia tends to slightly skew the assessment. Often, we must tell the truth, these pieces were truly mediocre, if not even downright bad at times.
To illustrate, "Centocampane," sung by Nico dei Gabbiani, immediately brings to mind "Il Segno del Comando," a fantastic RAI production from '71. In my house, we would go to great lengths to watch Ugo Pagliai lost in those streets of Trastevere, in love with the extraordinary Carla Gravina, a ghostly commoner from the past century trying to sort out an incredibly tangled affair.
But the true truth is that "Centocampane" is a clever little song in a Romanesque style that isn’t even that authentic, barely passable.
And so it goes for many of these pieces, including "A Blue Shadow" by Berto Pisano, which added a fantastic touch of charm to "Ho Incontrato Un Ombra," another beautiful RAI production of the time. However, "A Blue Shadow" is nothing more than a barely successful little tune, which, due to the obviousness of the harmonic progression, no true jazz musician has ever taken seriously as a standard.
In short, what you bring back, stirring my personal enthusiasm, is a genre where the element of nostalgia plays a fundamental role. In truth, the music is almost always little more than mediocre.
But my enthusiasm remains. Absolutely. Enthusiasm regardless.

This post particularly excites me because it mentions artists who have made history in cinema and television "behind the scenes," meaning without appearing as leading actors or directors, but by crafting the soundtrack. Certain masterpieces would not have made history in Italian cinema and television without the music.

And so here’s Edda Dell'Orso, the solo singer chosen by Morricone for the soundtrack of "Giù La Testa" by Sergio Leone (of whom I won’t even say a word, as he was so great).

My personal ranking also includes the legendary "Nico dei Gabbiani," who sang "centocampane," a "romanesca" song that became the opening and closing theme of one of the most beautiful RAI productions of the '70s: "Il Segno Del Comando," featuring Ugo Pagliai (ghosts in a magical and mysterious Rome).

Excuse the old-timer joke, I’m a bit embarrassed but I’ll say it anyway: productions of that quality haven’t been made for decades.

Then of course Berto Pisano from "A Blue Shadow," a fascinating theme from the "original television" (that’s what they called them back then) "Ho Incontrato Un'Ombra."

Additionally, Enrico Simonetti deserves mention for the splendid opening soundtrack of "Gamma," between mystery and science fiction from 1975. The first notes of the piece, played on electric piano, are spine-chilling. I recommend anyone who doesn’t know it to go listen to it.

Congratulations MauriceHaylett. Ten stars for this contribution, if I could.

Fury is one of the most extraordinary books I have ever read. The Count, in my opinion, is very much in your wheelhouse; I think you would find it exhilarating. It's one of those books that, once you start, you can't stop reading.
It’s very contemporary literature. It tells the story of people who, robbed of their lands by ruthless banks and creditors and left without means of subsistence, abandon their roots and embark on an exodus in search of a new life and new dignity.
Does it ring a bell?
Salvini, Philippe, Macron, read Fury, and then we can talk about it again.
musicanidi, you make me want to read Of Mice and Men, which seems to deal with the same theme.

If I were asked about the most representative works of the '70s, I would mention Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On" and, for Italy, all the works of Cramps by Gianni Sassi, so ideologically aligned. Diesel is a work that powerfully narrates those years and how much the world has changed from then to today. Just think that a motor, which is now a symbol of pollution, has become a symbol of its era and will soon fall into disuse. I once hated Finardi because I couldn't stand his tendency to give little speeches with every song, wanting to dictate an entire generation's stance on everything: love, politics, sex, drugs, etc. Today, I realize how important figures like Finardi were. And some of his songs are undeniably masterpieces. Congratulations, Bromike.

Anyway, it makes me smile that 666cosasei always writes beautiful pieces, crafted to soar high, igniting learned discussions about cinema, music, and more. Yet, as usual, the conversation gets dragged down to petty controversies or even worse. I myself take part of the responsibility for the baggage that gets attached to 666cosasei's pieces, which are always well-written and rich in stimuli. However, among all the trivialities (for which, I repeat, I am co-responsible), nice things also emerge, like the image of Gian Maria Volontè with his Panama hat and Ray-Bans, enjoying the seaside in sacred solitude.

Congratulations. Made with three important things: heart, competence, and heart. Well done.

As usual, POLO, you've drawn the irritation of many, and in my humble opinion, always for the same reason, which, in this review, comes across clearly.
Let me try to explain my thoughts.
In your reviews, you always position yourself as a "voice out of the choir," someone who does not accept the common opinion, the view of the masses. You even state this explicitly at the beginning of this review.
However, this is a tremendous ambition. Such a critical stance aims very, very high. Especially if you lack credibility (because no one knows you; you aren’t a Bertoncelli, a Massimo Mila, a Fabretti, a Giuseppe Piacentino, or another name well-known to the public).
So, with such a premise, you must inevitably provide convincing arguments, historical and sociological references, technical-musical notes, perhaps some personal memories of value; in short, you need to bring richness of content.
If you don’t, people feel mocked and are not on board.
You don’t do this. Expressing monstrous ambition, you always come out with an extremely modest review, a few words thrown in to gratuitously tear apart artists like De Andrè or Battiato.
The ambitious premise followed by the absolute triviality of the critical arguments turns everything into a matter of egocentrism that has little to do with music.
I hope I've made myself clear.

The film, among other things, shows, through the language of comedy, the fragility of the labor movement of the time, lacking cohesion and prone to internal divisions.
Unintentionally, the film sparked great controversy right within the left, which became divided on the issue.
The left spent 40 years confronting itself and splitting apart, while the exploiters had all the time to slather Vaseline on the cucumbers ready to head to their destination.
But today, they don’t even use Vaseline anymore.
If some scraps of protection were granted to those poor souls on bicycles, Foodora has communicated that it would have to leave Italy.

The review would have gained if it had been a bit more concise, but it seems good to me. I find it interesting that the theme still ignites passion. And we haven't seen anything yet! Wait until the "mangiabolscevichi," after their nap, come to troll, and we'll see some good things.
Exploited and exploiters certainly exist.
THAT working class no longer exists.
The children and grandchildren of Lulù, one of the heroes of my adolescence, are exploited individuals who no longer have the desire and/or ability to unite. Each one for themselves, fighting their own individual battle for survival. Individualism has prevailed over class consciousness.
Anyway, Lulù/Gian Maria Volontè, with his immense grotesque strength, has left an indelible mark in the history of cinema of all time.