Giuseppe Tornatore
Ennio

Premise: the film lasts 156', which might seem like an eternity, yet it flows by quickly, so quickly that you want even more, perhaps, I don't know, a nice TV series, which would certainly be better than "Emily in Paris".

It's impossible to condense Morricone's work into two and a half hours. Tornatore tries. And he succeeds, despite the evident editing work, especially in the last hour, when, still stuck in the late '70s Ennio, we rush way too quickly to the present day, forgetting many respectable soundtracks and focusing only on the most famous ones of the last thirty years: "Once Upon a Time in America," "Mission," "The Untouchables," "Cinema Paradiso," "Sostiene Pereira," "The Legend of 1900," "The Hateful Eight."

A trumpeter at the Conservatory in Rome, he became one of the most popular names among arrangers of pop songs (more than just "pop") in the early '60s, thanks to his original insights. "In ginocchio da te," "Se telefonando," "Sapore di sale," or "Il barattolo" (the latter being the song that saved RCA from failure) are some of his most well-known musical compositions. Until he entered the world of cinema with his first soundtrack, that of "Il federale" (1961) by Luciano Salce.

Tornatore gives ample space to the memories and suggestions of those who knew or simply loved him, and he steps aside, almost as if not wanting to disturb. It is not a mere celebration of the unrivaled genius of a composer (perhaps only John Williams was his equal), but it is, more intelligently, a long collective memory in which each of us can remember something of our own life through films and music, and at the same time, it is a beautiful portrayal of the Italy that was and is seen through the sounds of soundtracks that have now entered the collective memory.

Many are the testimonies. It is impossible to mention them all. Some, however, must be highlighted.

Gianni Morandi recalls the struggle that was the arrangement of "Non son degno di te" (Morricone, after two refusals from the producer due to an arrangement he said was too melodic, wrote the furious opening by throwing the score into the recording studio accompanied by the phrase: "Keep this crap"); Gino Paoli remembers him as a companion in the adventure of arranging "Sapore di sale"; Bruce Springsteen was struck by the music of "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" and ran out of the cinema to buy the soundtrack album; Bernardo Bertolucci praises him lavishly and recounts the adventure of "1900"; the emotion Dario Argento felt on the first day on the set of "The Bird with the Crystal Plumage" in the presence of maestro Morricone; Hans Zimmer considers him a total point of reference; Clint Eastwood was struck by hearing the notes of "For a Fistful of Dollars"; Carlo Verdone; Wong-Kar wai; Oliver Stone and the request, for "U-Turn," of cartoon-like music; Marco Bellocchio. And many others.

Obviously, a separate chapter is deserved for the working and friendly relationship with Sergio Leone (even though the soundtrack for "Duck, You Sucker!" is not mentioned) and how Morricone considered the music of the first two films of the so-called dollar trilogy as cheap stuff. But also the incredible missed Oscar for "Mission" (which went to Herbie Hancock for "Round Midnight" amid the rumbling of the audience); the epistolary relationship with Terrence Malick (Morricone wrote the soundtrack for "Days of Heaven"); what he considered to be De Palma's wrong choices in "The Untouchables" ("I sent him 9 compositions and told him not to choose number 6. He chose 6") and, of course, Quentin Tarantino and his "The Hateful Eight," but with Tarantino, we're in ultra territory (look to believe: Golden Globes 2016, Tarantino ‘crazy’ for the award to Morricone (youtube.com)).

A very tight documentary, sometimes melancholic, sometimes even funny (Morricone's morning exercise routine), which is an act of love towards a genius and music in general. Sometimes, perhaps, it lingers on interesting but not very useful details for the narrative (the composition written to honor the victims of 9/11), and the last five minutes are a total and unconditional tribute that smells a bit sanctimonious, a pity since the previous 150' were anything but that. However, we know, in some cases, excess is almost natural. Moreover, Tornatore knew Morricone well and couldn't resist, perhaps, to go straight to the end.

So it is. Besides being, incredibly, the best work of Tornatore in many years, it is also one of the most beautiful documentaries seen in recent years at the cinema. Certainly, it doesn't have the genius of Peter Jackson's "Get Back" (by the way, have you seen it?), but it is a fine film. Indeed, more than just a fine film.