Giù la testa: Ennio Morricone (and Sergio Leone)’s Best Work
It begs to be heard once in your lifetime.
For the past 49 years, Sergio Leone’s Giù la testa (for Americans: Duck, You Sucker, A Fistful of Dynamite or Once Upon a Time in the Revolution) doesn’t get the recognition it deserves. Leone’s most known films: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (1966), Once Upon a Time in the West (1968) and Once Upon a Time in America (1984), seem to overshadow Leone’s most political (and brilliant) film of his career.
With the passing of the greatest film composer of all time, Ennio Morricone, now is the perfect time to discover (or revisit) what I consider to be the best film of the early 1970s, which contains Morricone’s most exceptional character piece: Sean Sean.
We hear Sean Sean when the character of Seán (James Coburn) begins experiencing flashbacks of his past as an Irish nationalist. This past coincides with events he’s living through in the present moment — in the middle of 1913’s Mexican Revolution. Seán teams up with Juan Miranda (Rod Steiger) to rob the National Bank of Mesa Verde, in the middle of the Revolution. Unbeknownst to them, the bank vaults are filled with revolutionaries.
The duo frees them all and becomes heroes of the Revolution, in their rights. As Juan says that the pair of “Juan & Seán” was written in “destiny,” Seán (or John Mallory)’s flashbacks appear, and the audience instantly knows more about the character than Juan ever will.
Flashbacks are part of Leone’s genius — and are utilized in movies like Once Upon a Time in the West to develop further a character, only known by the audience. Harmonica (Charles Bronson) seeks revenge to kill Frank (Henry Fonda) for what he did to his brother. The only people that know what happened to Harmonica, in his past, are the audience members and Frank himself. All of the other characters are impervious to their backstories.
While Leone uses flashbacks to deepen the characters’ psyche further and understand their morality, for the audience, Ennio Morricone associates the protagonist/antagonist with one single theme song, that functions as motifs — recurring sounds that will be heard continuously during the film’s runtime. Frank’s theme is Il grande massacro — associated not only through the McBain family massacre but reminds the audience of the menacing, yet incredibly calm demeanor of Frank’s broken soul.
Morricone doesn’t merely write a piece because it needs to fill a particular scene or represent a specific tone, his music is an integral part of Leone’s filmgoing experience for the audience — as they will recognize a character through its theme. The theme will give the audience a fair idea of who they are and how they feel inside.
The most significant feat of Giù la testa is Sean Sean — a theme that plays as a character. Sean Sean isn’t just the recurring motif (like Harmonica’s theme in Once Upon a Time) that we hear every time the character pops-up, but represents John’s psychological anguish he feels. He appears mysteriously, passing by on a motorcycle while Juan and his gang rob a coach. Juan doesn’t know who he is — but once he sees John’s skills as an explosives expert, the sign “BANCO NACIONAL DE MESA VERDE” appears on John’s forehead.
It’s a match made in heaven, and Juan doesn’t care who or what Seán/John is, but he should. While the audience sees John’s tragic journey as a revolutionary who tries to escape the life of an Irish Republican, only to be caught inadvertently in another revolution, Juan (and every other character) will never know John’s story.
Morricone’s Sean Sean acts as a motif, in part, but, more importantly, as a tragic foreshadower of his demise. Sean Sean represents, as a whole, John’s path towards death. Firstly, we see a happy part of his life; he feels free, liberated. We see his friend Nolan (David Warbeck) and Coleen (Vivienne Chandler), his girlfriend. They are both in love with her, but they’re incredibly joyous together.
However, underneath John and Nolan’s happiness lies desperation, as he immediately kills his best friend once he is identified by the British Police, in another flashback sequence. Coburn’s facial expressions, in that particular moment, makes John evoke that he’ll never be able to return to Coleen and will be forced to forge a new identity (hence the lyrics “Sean, Sean, Sean” resonating in the audience’s ears). John will only have the memories of a life he could’ve had if he didn’t choose the path of being a revolutionary. All of that is brilliantly conveyed through Leone’s extreme close-ups of Coburn’s face and Morricone’s emotional theme.
By reading Luciano Vincenzoni, Sergio Donati, and Sergio Leone’s script, Ennio Morricone can write the exact piece that will be the perfect representation of a protagonist’s personality and mentality. Sean Sean not only exudes John’s tragic journey from IRA fugitive to coincidental hero, losing everything he holds dear in the process but how he feels inside; empty. It is why the finale — in which John reminisces his “perfect life” with Coleen and Nolan, running in a park, feeling madly for one another, is heartbreakingly beautiful.
I rarely cry during movies, but every time I listen to Ennio Morricone’s Sean Sean, water slowly starts to fill my eyes. You can’t help but think about what could’ve been if John didn’t decide to participate in IRA activities. It would’ve been filled with idyllic wonder, full of passion and joy. Alas, that life can now only exist in paradise, somewhere John won’t probably go.
Underneath’s Sean Sean’s operatic beauty lies a tragic tale of desperation that can only be conveyed by a music maestro.
Thankfully, Ennio Morricone’s illustrious career of more than 500 film compositions helped shape the music as a motif, which, according to film critic Bilge Ebiri, created his own musical genre. There will never be another film composer that will reach the same level of artistry and maestoso as Ennio Morricone — there isn’t one today, and there will never be one in the future.
Morricone has curb-stomped every “popular” film composer with his effortless style and genius. His contribution to some of the most iconic scores in film history is only the tip of the iceberg, as he’s influenced countless filmmakers and musical artists to create their own singular style/genre. So here’s to you, Ennio, you’ve earned a well-deserved rest.
