MAY THE WIND BE GENTLE
It was sad to hear of Terence Davies's death early this morning. I have long held the belief that he has been Britain's most consistently brilliant film director for the past three decades continuing a lineage post WW2 that started with Michael Powell and David Lean and continued with Nic Roeg and Merchant & Ivory. Alternating between film and documentary, what Davies had that distinguished him from the rest of the pack was an emotional nostalgia which seemed to infuse each frame of his movies and carried a kind of cinematic glow that one associates with the romantic idea of the form in the same way one might think of Tóto (Salvatore Cascio), the young boy in Tornatore's 'Cinema Paradiso' (1988).
His entire body of work has seemed to be either deeply autobiographical or informed by an extension of his cultured sensibility and almost novelistic way of seeing the world around him. 'Of Time And The City' (2008) delivered a kind of documentary last rites to the City Of Liverpool as it was and, by extension, the Western world as we watch through archive footage how traditions and culture have been increasingly swept aside by the titanic changes due to the decline of industry and rise of technology. This touching reminder of what has been sacrificed in the avalanche of 'progress' will remain a classic that future generations will return to as a bridging reference from one world to the next. I also loved the montage set to Bacarisse : Concertino for Guitar and Orchestra that I've played regularly since my first viewing of the film.
Having once talked to Mr Davies on the phone, I remember vividly how passionate he was when discussing the subject of music, especially Bruckner who, he told me, had been his favourite composer since he was a teenager. I had actually hoped to get the director on board to work on an opera adaptation of Bruce Chatwin's 'On The Black Hill' which he was tentatively interested in though clearly less convinced about working in opera than I. Nevertheless, if for only that conversation alone I'm grateful I took the chance to pitch the project to him. Unable to restrain myself from waxing lyrical about his 'The House Of Mirth' movie from 2000 starring Gillian Anderson I told him I felt he had performed miracles working on a fraction of the budget Scorsese's Wharton adaptation 'The Age Of Innocence' had to play with and yet to my mind yielding even more spectacular results. I love both films for different reasons but found 'House' to be unforgettable and haunting in a way 'Innocence' didn't quite match.
Plus, there was one of the all time great montages set to Mozart's 'Soave Il Vento' trio from 'Cosi Fan Tutte that a close friend of mine (RC) made sure to bring to my attention and which I've never forgotten. There's something about the passing of time, demonstrated by white dust sheets draped over furniture in a large, empty house as rain falls onto a riverbank before dissolving into sunlight on the ocean, that is truly transcendent. Such moments are worlds unto themselves and Davies provided many of them for us to enjoy forever.
In one of his last movies, 'Benediction' (2021) which I've written about previously (August 22nd 2022) there is a heart breaking final scene where Siegfried Sassoon recalls the poem 'Disabled' by Wilfred Owen, the trauma of remembering the loss of innocence for an entire generation of men almost too much for him to bear. The entire sequence is accompanied by 'Fantasia On A Theme By Thomas Tallis' by Vaughan Williams that plays over the visuals and perfectly epitomises the cumulative power of Davies's storytelling power where he brings all the elements of film together like a great conductor.
Rest in Peace, Terence (1945-2023)
'May the wind be gentle, and the waves be calm.'