Tag Archives: Ennio Morricone

THE RED TURTLE

“…a film with a big heart and a profound message…”

Wayward Wolf.

Whilst admittedly not my genre of choice, when one considers the vast number of hours it must surely have taken to piece together, The Red Turtle, it is a truly staggering achievement. Of course, the building blocks of this particular animation are probably no different to those employed in any number of other animations of its type, but for those of us that rarely stray into this territory, it’s a rare opportunity to ponder and marvel at such things.

Michael Dudok de Wit’s tale opens with a man in a desperate fight for his life, floundering among the storm waves, without recourse to any form of sea-faring vessel. Luckily the sea eventually deposits him, weary but still alive, on the shore of a remote tropical island from which he must attempt to escape if he is ever to return to ‘civilisation’ again.

This is however easier said than done, with each of his numerous attempts frustrated time and again by the meddling exploits of a giant red turtle. Every one of the man’s crudely assembled log rafts, once afloat, is quickly battered into pieces by the powerful ‘butting’ action of this crimson watery thwarter – a sort of vengeful turtle wrecking ball, if you will.

Try as he might to escape, it’s almost as though fate has other plans for our man.

Spotting the turtle on land one day, and beside himself with rage, the man seizes his opportunity, summoning all of his strength to flip the red menace onto its back, leaving it there to perish in the merciless rays of the tropical sun.

Pangs of remorse, however, begin to overcome him, and he attempts unsuccessfully to reverse his actions.

Much grief and shame is duly felt, but with the turtle’s passing comes a remarkable and unexpected opportunity for genuine fulfilment in the man’s life.

Michael Dudok de Wit’s charming piece places us all in the initially enviable scenario of paradise found, though quickly revealing the harsh realities of survival, not to mention the full force of mother nature’s unpredictability.

Whilst The Red Turtle is visually stunning and impressive in its simplicity, it is however so much more than an expertly-honed, visually sumptuous animation, it’s a film with a big heart and a profound message through its exploration of the cycle and core components of our lives: survival, freedom, love, loss, loneliness, and of course the unavoidable inevitability of death.

Almost entirely bereft of dialogue throughout – bar a few guttural grunts and squeaks of joy – the film’s direction offers the space and opportunity for our minds to contemplate and wander. Much emphasis is therefore placed upon Laurent Perez Del Mar’s emotive soundtrack, which, through its Morricone-esque use of soaring soprano lines, compliments the exquisite animation perfectly.

It’s evident that much love and attention – not to mention ‘man-hours’ – have been lavished upon The Red Turtle, resulting in a wonderfully poignant and truly rewarding film.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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FILM REVIEW: Palio

The Palio is the oldest horse race in the world, run in the central piazza of the beautiful Italian city of Siena. Preceded by much pageantry, it is a full throttle affair, encapsulating Italian society and the ‘system’ in which it operates, in a microcosm.
Run twice a year, every summer, it offers the residents of Siena’s various districts a chance to claim bragging rights in the city.
Palio is a  documentary which focuses on the 2013 and 2014 Palios and the intense rivalry between both rival districts and race jockeys, alike.
Gigi Bruschelli is the corrupt veteran of the race and the prime scalp that all others seek to dislodge. Giovanni Atzeni is his once trainee; a gifted, twenty-eight year old, level-headed prodigy and pretender to Bruschelli’s throne.
These two, amongst others, go head to head in a bid to be crowned champion, pitting experienced know-how against youthful determination.
If rivalries between two legendary, retired champions of yesteryear are anything to go by, there’s certainly no love loss between the Palio’s jockeys. With their outspoken re-writing of history, tensions continue to simmer between them in largely comedic fashion, many years after they’ve hung up their caps and whips. Their passion for the Palio, like everyone else’s, seems undimmed by the passage of time.
It’s a very well put together account, which, much like recent documentaries Amy and Senna, steers away from the conventional talking heads type of delivery, opting instead for largely incidental commentary, giving the film a free, less  structured feel to it and a strong sense of authenticity.
Sadly,  the saying: “and don’t spare the horses” has never been more appropriate, with eleven or twelve of them careering around the perilous piazza track, jockey whips flailing about wildly as both horses and jockeys are subjected to their leathery justice in ferocious fashion.
We only have to think of the Spanish Running of the Bulls or the Shearing of the Beasts to realise that human beings, the world over, seem only too willing to hold dear to archaic traditions that have scant regard for the well being of animals and The Palio, admittedly to a lesser extent, is no exception.
This whip-cracking, thunderous romp around a sharp-cornered, dusty track, preceded by the vociferous chanting of proud inhabitants of Lupa, Eagle, Porcupine and other assorted districts, whilst being an admittedly impressive spectacle, is just another example of disregard for animal life and the fact that the tone of the film is so overwhelmingly reverential, just leaves me cold.
‘Rocky on horseback’ they say?
Well, perhaps, but the prevailing sentiment remains.
On another level, The Palio is essentially silly little boys games taken way too seriously, never summed up more than when the church gets involved, going so far as to bless the winning horse and rider in the Cathedral itself; all the while, surrounded by a massed, frenzied crowd.
If we can manage to disassociate ourselves for a moment from any such negativity that surrounds Palio (and I do appreciate that that is in itself a subjective thing), as a pure spectacle of raw human passion and tub-thumping pride, it takes some beating and it’s understandable how locals and tourists alike can get swept up in its frenzy of thrills and spills each summer.

It also says a lot that a really well crafted film, beautifully shot and edited and awash with a glorious, sumptuous 1960s era Ennio Morricone soundtrack, can leave one with such a feeling of indifference, bordering on disapproval.