Steve Reeves’ last film appearance may have been in a spaghetti western riding on the genre’s steady popularity, but composer Carlo Savina steps away from his title theme and almost every musical convention for the bulk of this hugely impressive score.

It’s actually quite shocking to hear a modernist approach with very subtle poppish inflection when the norm was to virtually imitate all the elements of an Ennio Morricone score.

Savina’s title theme, “Go West Young Man,” features English vocals, chanting (“Go West, GO!”), and obligatory whistling, glued to a galloping beat, and the only unique instrumental addition is the use of organ to convey a weird, spacey quality – something already quite evident in trippy lounge scores for contemporary dramas, sexy films (Camille 2000), thrillers (Death Walks at Midnight), or sci-fi films (The 10th Victim).

What’s extremely odd about the film’s title theme – which DigitMovies’ producers also recognized – was Savina’s stealth nod to Reeves’ peplum/sword and sandal films by crafting intro herald that evokes the ancient gladiatorial spirit than a cowboy in the American wild west. Even the tense action passages – mostly involving triplets shared by piano and snare drum – convey stripped-down, bare knuckle combat, which probably isn’t far from the film’s use of Reeves and his massive physique.

(The film’s poster art comes in two shades: the Italian campaign, with Reeves on the ground shooting through an unidentified man’s legs; and the U.S. and Japanese campaign, that brazenly uses a topless, partially silhouetted Reeves holding a gun in the right hand, while the empty left palm is placed below a phallic weapon, jutting graphically from his waist.)

Savina’s sense of humour seems evident in the title theme’s construction (paying homage to Reeves’ peplum roots), but one also senses he was having fun even at the studio’s expense, since he integrates the opening bars of the Titanus logo theme in the track “Seq. 11.” (The sharp muted trumpets placed over rippling marimba are easily recognizable, since the logo theme remained in use for more than a decade.)

The title theme does show now and then in its complete, linear form, but it’s never a direct recap of the silly vocal cut that was written to keep the producers happy. “Seq. 6” and “Seq. 14” are a great examples of how Savina adapted the theme into a folk-pop version by using an extremely sparse group of instruments: acoustic guitar strums provide the rhythm, solo trumpet covers the melody in off-beats, and organ in “Seq. 6” provides a segue into brief electric bass pulse, which Savina continues in “Seq. 7” using bass clarinet prior to a furious action passage.

The most intriguing theme appearance is in the second half of the bitterly mournful “Seq. 11” and “Seq. 12,” with gorgeous violin solos and pleading strings – an approach quite reminiscent of Angelo Francesco Lavagnino’s devastatingly beautifully The Angel Wore Red (1960)

Savina also avoids overt theme quotes in the beautiful duet between acoustic guitar and harmonica in “Seq.5” (none of the tracks have formal titles), which allows the musicians to play in a looser, natural time signature. “Seq. 10” is another gentle guitar piece, with strums counterbalanced by short staccato bits of the score’s main theme.

Long Ride from Hell was written with a desire to write music beyond genre conventions, and that makes Savina’s score much more attractive than the funkier Morricone imitations usually grafted to other spaghetti westerns. It’s a score that’s aged very well, and although recorded in mono with minor echo effects, it’s a solid score that’s guaranteed to get a lot of replay.

Paired with Long Ride is another brief score (also in mono) from a Spanish-Italian co-production that seems to have never been distributed outside of Europe. Titled Il misterioso signor Van Eyck (1966), the film is another search for sunken treasure, although it’s set in contemporary times with modern scuba gear, and an apparent love triangle between two men and a hot blonde babe.

Eddying strings easily convey an underwater atmosphere, and Savina makes heavy use of organ to carry the film’s main theme, although there’s a nice pairing of sax and organ in “Seq. 3” (none of the tracks have formal titles). Most of the cues repeat the theme in its ‘underwater’ state, but there are some notable variations that include the romantic “Seq. 4” and “Seq. 5,” both conveying a sense of adventure, optimism, and gushy romance.

The only qualms about Van Eyck is the repetitive nature of the cues, which give one the  impression most of the film had the characters doing a lot of sailing, and between lush footage of water, ships, and wind-blown hair, there were a few looks of jealousy and male posturing – hence some cues ending with two staccato “uh-oh” notes.

In Savina’s filmograophy, Van Eyck is a lesser score, but it’s an intriguing loop of misterioso motifs that progress slowly and patiently towards inevitable conflict (usually characterized by hard organ chords with plenty of rippling reverb).

It’s a pity neither score on this CD were recorded in stereo (the organ and harp configurations in Van Eyck would’ve been more haunting), but DigitMovies have done an excellent job in balancing the cue’s inherent dynamic limitations with some special sweetening to give the cues a bit more treble.

Perhaps best-known to North American fans for his conducting work on Miklos Rozsa’s Ben-Hur (1959), this CD provides a intriguing example of Savina’s style, and his efforts to transcend some of the clichés and cheesy conventions of the era.

© 2008 Mark R. Hasan