Everyone
knows that movie soundtracks are usually over-rated and ultimately
disappointing outside the context of their movie. I like very few, but
bizarrely Yann Tiersen’s Amelie soundtrack is perhaps one of the best. It’s
years since I watched the film, but this collection of largely instrumental
music has a life, vibrancy and atmosphere all of its own. It’s like a slow walk
through a melancholy, rural France, but not in a Switchblade Romance scenario.
It would possibly be better suited as the soundtrack to Rick Stein’s cookery
show when he sailed across France on that barge. Or maybe not.
This is
classically tinged French quirkiness. There’s pianos aplenty, ubiquitous
accordions and the odd mandolin, all arranged in plinky-plonky, wind up jewelly
box tunes or romaine fairground jigs. It’s a heady combination of frenchness,
jollity and something more emotive. There’s a tangible sense that when you play
these songs that you are transported to another world; a world of deserted
French beaches and sad seaside towns but tantalisingly of our own introspection.
The sum of
the tracks is definitely greater than their individual contributions, but
worthy of a mention are the morose ‘La Valse d’Amelie’, the atmospheric ‘Le
Moulin’ and the timeless charms of Al Bowlly’s ‘Guilty’. Best of all however, is
the beautiful piano driven ballad ‘Comptine d’un Autre Ete’, better known as
the soundtrack to the short film ‘The Piano’, the track again benefits from
being given an identity in its own right.
If you
sometimes find yourself dreaming of drifting across France in romanie caravan,
meandering from village to village, eating croissants, drinking local red wine
and chatting up Madam Marsaud, then this is the ideal soundtrack for your slumbers.
If, on the other hand, you are actually a Roma traveller in France at the
moment, then I doubt this is an adequate soundtrack for your predicament; I
suggest Rage Against the Machine instead.
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