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Rating: It took Paolo Conte to bring me back to these parts, I owe it to him and to some of you.
In February, he performed an extraordinary concert in the temple of opera. An idea of Caterina Caselli, who has always been a devoted friend of our artist, and who lived a lifetime with the extraordinary song Insieme a te non ci sto più, in the end, she owed it to him.
He was the first singer-songwriter to perform at La Scala, he, who as a spectator, has never been there. Sold-out, a wonderful concert, everyone standing, much to the dismay of purist snobs who turned up their noses at the idea.
The film was screened on December 4, 5, and 6, distributed across Italy in 250 theaters.
There were 20 of us yesterday at the Parco De’ Medici Warner Village, a large Roman complex with mega theaters, wow audio, comfortable seats, and a good 20 minutes of advertising before the start. A cold and damp winter evening, vaguely reminiscent of Conte himself.
I entered with melancholic expectations, knowing I was about to see an old man who had promised himself he would no longer give concerts, simply because he couldn't do it anymore. He was supposed to have his last one in 2020. Instead, it was COVID that performed, involving 90% of Italians with great enthusiasm and participation. The entrance fee? ...a simple pass in exchange for 1 2 3 (stella!) jabs... those who didn't get the pass got sick and died or made others die, as the former prime minister stated, and you have to believe it.
The docufilm begins and we're immediately backstage. The band is already lined up, he enters last, a tracking shot follows him from behind, reminding me of Birdman, the movie.
He enters the stage, with an uncertain step, hunched, emaciated, shielding his eyes with his hand as the lights bother him. Even his hands are old, trembling and uncertain, with sagging skin. He no longer plays the piano with that vigor, doesn't riff and soar above the darkness for us anymore, the Milonga no longer torments his fingers, he presses just a few notes but doesn't get them wrong, the dirty work is done by his orchestra.
Yet, each time is different. Yeah, because Paolo Conte is not one for the routine, for him concerts are a serious matter even if he once told me that he doesn't know a thing about concerts... he seems to enjoy joking...
In fact, in an old interview, he admitted he doesn't like recording his tracks in the studio because, according to him, there is no perfect version, where the studio version represents the "official" one. He never liked that, he enjoys giving his works a new and different look every time, music is free and wild and a German painter once said that all art would want to be music... so he likes to give shape to music, words and content come after and, in a certain way, they are suggested to him by the music itself...
What to say about the docufilm? Well, I found it evocative and interesting, keeping in mind that the concert itself takes a good 80% of the film’s duration, I particularly liked Sotto le stelle del Jazz and Alle prese con una verde Milonga.
Moreover, I didn't know that when he says women hated jazz and it's unclear why, there's a double meaning with a hint of a puzzle, that is, it's not clear why women don't love jazz/women hate jazz because they don't understand the reason (the melody).
The most engaging moment, however, comes with Diavolo Rosso, where he unleashes the band and we witness three long solos from the clarinet, accordion, and violin. Or when he stands up, one of his musicians goes to the piano and he sings Passa la vida como una senõrita and your heart tightens seeing that his life has truly passed and he is one step from the big step (but the old lion still smokes cigarettes). Still standing, he also performs Madeleine, a poignant song with an enchanting melody and a poetic, very sweet text, where he adds the words afterward...
Who knows if any of you have gone to see it these days... I hope so!
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