The Man Who Cried

One of the joys of collecting soundtrack albums is the diversity one can often discover in them. Nearly every genre, style, and sound known to man (and others not so familiar) can be found over the course of movie music history. The latest film from director Sally Potter continues this tradition in The Man Who Cried. Potter is no stranger to using music well, having featured music prominently in films like Orlando and The Tango Lesson.

Not having seen the film, I can only comment that the album contains a good bit of variety, starting with seven wonderful operatic arias from Bizet ("The Pearl Fishers"), Verdi ("Il Trovitore"), the traditional Neopolitan song "Torna A Surriento" and an unusual setting of Purcell's "Dido's Lament" from Dido and Aeneas for "Middle Eastern" female vocalist, accordion, and gypsy violin. The Bizet aria "Je Crois Entendre Encore" is heard three times on the album, both opening and closing the CD in the traditional orchestration of male voice against strings and winds, and once in the middle of the CD for piano and male voice. One last song is featured, "Gloomy Sunday", and is appropriately gloomy and melancholy. It almost feels out of place amidst the wilder gypsy music to come, but such a classic song is hard to dismiss.  Opera fans should note the presence of meteoric young star Salvatore Licitra, a tenor whose performances of the various arias here mark his recording debut, and are performed with great emotion.

The second facet of the album consists of source music, performed by the Taraf de Houks ensemble. Starting with track two, "Jalousie", an exquisite tango for violin and piano. "Tiganesca" is a frenzied "gypsy" piece for whistle, violin and piano, and is sure to get the blood pumping during its three minute run time. "Baladele Revoluteil" continues the ethnic "gypsy" flavor of the score with male voice, and a bouncing rhythmic line for violin. "Ducho Balvalo" is much like "Tiganesca" with a frenzied, almost swing-like rhythm for dulcimer, violin, and accordion against whistle. "Bangi Khelimos" closes out the source portion of the album, with a grand "gypsy" waltz for the small ensemble. These pieces are consistently joyous, and will firmly plant you in the center of the caravan.

The final ingredient of this soundtrack are four pieces of score, written in collaboration by Sapo Perapaskero and Osvaldo Golijov, and performed for the most part by The Kronos Quartet. No strangers to transcending cultural boundaries, they lend their thick sonorities to these cues with great effect. "Close Your Eyes" features male voice against the moving playing of the quartet for a brief heartbreaking piece. This piece is also heard instrumentally as the fourth track, replacing the voice with a solo violin. It is also worth noting how large a sound the four players achieve in these pieces. "Cesar's Song" is cut from the same cloth as above, very mysterious and enchanting. The highlight of their work is "Without a Word", scored for a ghostly cascade of faint string tones, gliding in from afar. It is a gorgeous effect, and adds a great haunted tone to the album.

This album will be enjoyed by those looking for something new and diverse. The mysterious and occasionally somber mood is maintained throughout, and while the selections may seem disparate, they all compliment each other rather nicely. If you are seeking music to transport you into the romantic land of the gypsy, look no further.