[Speed Gibson,
Tuesday December 19, 2006 at 12:28am]
The BIg Country
They say any book is a new book until you're read it. Quite by accident I saw a listing for "The Big Country" on Turner Classic Movies. It was rated four stars out of four, and starred Gregory Peck. That and the fact that I had never heard of it was enough to make me record it on the DVR.
I recognized the often played theme music immediately, though, written by Jerome Moross, and nominated for an Academy Award. I just never knew to what it belonged. And oh, does it ever belong to this picture, a simple tale of the West and cattle and a feud over water rights. And yet it's just as the promos say: "Big they fought! Big they love! Big their story!"
Like "Captains Courageous" and a couple other recent personal discoveries, this film has already moved into my top 25 or so. Excepting for the score, any one aspect of it seems ordinary enough, maybe even trite: the stars, the cast, the scenery, the dialog, the plot, the romance, the action. But patiently told, pinned against the long flowing fabric of the memorable, almost haunting music, it's nearly three hours of wonderful, vicarious pleasure. Call it a guilty pleasure if you like, as with "The Quiet Man."
I wonder how many other great films "before my time" I've yet to encounter.
I recognized the often played theme music immediately, though, written by Jerome Moross, and nominated for an Academy Award. I just never knew to what it belonged. And oh, does it ever belong to this picture, a simple tale of the West and cattle and a feud over water rights. And yet it's just as the promos say: "Big they fought! Big they love! Big their story!"
Like "Captains Courageous" and a couple other recent personal discoveries, this film has already moved into my top 25 or so. Excepting for the score, any one aspect of it seems ordinary enough, maybe even trite: the stars, the cast, the scenery, the dialog, the plot, the romance, the action. But patiently told, pinned against the long flowing fabric of the memorable, almost haunting music, it's nearly three hours of wonderful, vicarious pleasure. Call it a guilty pleasure if you like, as with "The Quiet Man."
I wonder how many other great films "before my time" I've yet to encounter.