If you took the slow-build intros of Ennio Morricone's spaghetti westerns, replete with clanging bells and male whistling, and combined it with a late sixties Germanic lounge melody, you'd have Roberto Pregadio's highly melodic twist at a genre score. In theory, it shouldn’t work, but has Morricone himself proved time and again, if done right, one can fold ideas from many idioms to create functional dramatic music.

Pregadio’s score is more than functional, though, because like many scores of the era, it reflects the finesse of Italian musicians and recording engineers; when piped through a home system, The Forgotten Pistolero / Il Pistolero dell'Ave Maria (1969) makes a string impression.

In the film, the score probably hit all the right marks, but as an album, the flaws are wholly glaring: few of the themes are given distinct variations, the melodies rarely develop beyond two or three restatements, and many cues just fadeout, often just as an instrumental solo or improve gets going. (The album, already short, also contains some material by Franco Micalizzi, derived from his 1971 score for My Name is Trinity / Lo Chiamavano Trinità.)

That’s perhaps the nature of a score written for a film meant to cash-in on a popular genre; just as filmmakers had to be economical in making a film for a genre already heavily saturated by knock-offs, composers were often busily recording several projects in a single year, and probably trying to convey a sense of romanticism for the old west using a compact orchestra. It’s a challenge many Italian composers working in spaghetti westerns, gialli, or police thrillers had to face, but it arguably made them masters at creating bigger sounds than what was physically available, and covering up budget limitations with some clever idiomatic fusions.

Pistolero’s main theme is a two parter: the bell-clanging, whistling intro, and the sappy Germanic melody that’s part lounge, part beer hall; the only missing element are waves of humming, happily intoxicated revelers.

"Senza Scampo" is the album’s first action cut, with close-miked instruments placed in very specific positions: to the left are short phrases on Mexican-flavoured trumpets, and to the right are harpsichord and jazzy piano figures. A fuzz guitar and light percussion are front and centre, and the short piece advances to a funky galloping beat.

“Ballata Per Un Pistolero” carries over the fuzz guitar, rippling typani and bell hits, and Pregadio adds a beautiful solo whistle in a recap of the opening track. Opting for a slower tempo, the composer maintains a similar instrumentation of a dominant whistle and female chorals for the main melody.

The album’s loveliest material is a gentle theme variation, “Ritorno A Casa,” with soft strings coddling solo electric guitar, and a more loose tempo that allows the guitar recitatives to hang just long enough to evoke a rare moment of human tenderness. Track 12 is another variation, although Pregadio reworks the theme into an adagio, with a supportive organ that gives the cue a bittersweet quality.

“Corral De La Moreira” is just  solo Spanish guitar with furious chord strums set to galloping rhythm for the first and third quarter, and a gentle solo in second and final quarter. There’s some great interplay between lilting notes and increasingly hard strums before a quiet closing. It’s an expertly performed cue which probably functioned as source music.

“Fiato Sospeso” is the score’s lone, overtly dramatic cut. It’s a short, discrete cue clearly meant to match specific onscreen actions, and Pregadio focuses primarily on muted brass, a soft and timid oboe, and hits on a harpsichord.

The album’s remaining cues are source cuts, comprised of four Mariachi ensembles, and two versions of a waltz. The Mariachi cuts are largely festive, and involve melodic interplay between solo trumpet, acoustic guitar, and harpsichord. Of the three cues, the first, “Fiesta En El Pueblo,” is the most traditional, whereas “Alegria Mexicana” is a variation on “La Cucaracha,” set to a bossa nova beat. “Sabor De Aguardiente” is a slower, lighthearted track, with dual acoustic guitars dominating the sparsely instrumented cue, whereas “Calle En La Noche” is a buoyant variation of “Alegria Mexicana.”

The two waltzes are pretty straightforward dance pieces, with lilting strings adding some classical style, while the rhythm is kept steady by brushes on drums, and a subtle electric guitar. The melody in “Giradini Viennesi” has a bit of a carnival quality which is also present in “Primavera A Vienna,” a virtual clone that closes the album.

Pregadio’s film work would eventually consist of sexploitation fodder, such as the Emanuelle series, and a pair of Nazi sexploitation nasties, whereas Micalizzi had a better run scoring more varied films. The complete score for My Name is Trinity / Lo Chiamavano Trinità (1971) was released by DigitMovies in 2004.

© 2008 Mark R. Hasan