(Edit: I wrote this back in November 2013, but I'm posting it in April 2014. For some reason, it didn't post then, and I didn't want it to get lost in the mix.)
I just got a new old CD in the mail. Two, actually, both of which I'm excited about, but one that makes me extremely happy.
Way back in 1982, a mini-series aired on CBS called The Blue and the Gray. For some reason, my family latched onto that as one of four movies we watched in our house.
(I'm not joking. I don't remember watching any movies that weren't educational outside of those four - Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (of which I wasn't allowed to watch the first ten minutes until I turned at least 13); The Scarlet Pimpernel (the 1982 version - popular year - the soundtrack of which is coincidentally the second CD I received); and The Three Musketeers (the 1993 version, which, despite the presence of one Charles Sheen portraying Aramis, I still love dearly, and which gave me my undying love of Chris O'Donnell) - and I didn't watch other movies until I realized just how awesome movies were and started buying them left and right. My bank account is forever grateful to Netflix.)
But some of my earliest memories are of this mini-series. This is probably where my love of the Civil War was kindled. The story is really a giant soap opera, and the writers managed to cram every coincidence and important event of the war into a little over three hours, but I loved this movie. One family: a branch living in Gettysburg (natch!) and a branch living in Virginia, their stories told by a son of the Virginia branch who refuses to fight for the South after a freed slave is lynched on their property, but also refuses to carry arms for the North against his three brothers. He becomes a newspaper artist and manages to travel the length and breadth of the war, even meeting Abraham Lincoln. Despite the depressing lack of Ulysses S. Grant (he got two minutes max!), I knew this was something special. And imagine my joy when I discovered not too far into my teens that I'd been stuck with the TV version my whole life when I could have been watching the extended version! Pure euphoria.
But it's the music that really sells this series. One of the musical themes reminds me of the hymn "Be Thou My Vision," and for the longest time I would shudder every time I heard "Rock of Ages." (You'd understand if you watched the film.) The score complemented every scene perfectly, as evidenced by the fact that I, a proud Yankee, cried when Robert E. Lee gave his farewell address to his men. The horror and suspense of The Wilderness is magnified by the long, piercing notes of a violin. The deaths of the family members, two on each side, each different and moving and entirely due to war, are underscored by mournful and foreboding themes. And who knew a harmonica could be used to such great effect?
I could go on and on. But I'll leave you with this sampling of the music and encourage you to check out the series for yourself.
I just got a new old CD in the mail. Two, actually, both of which I'm excited about, but one that makes me extremely happy.
Way back in 1982, a mini-series aired on CBS called The Blue and the Gray. For some reason, my family latched onto that as one of four movies we watched in our house.
(I'm not joking. I don't remember watching any movies that weren't educational outside of those four - Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (of which I wasn't allowed to watch the first ten minutes until I turned at least 13); The Scarlet Pimpernel (the 1982 version - popular year - the soundtrack of which is coincidentally the second CD I received); and The Three Musketeers (the 1993 version, which, despite the presence of one Charles Sheen portraying Aramis, I still love dearly, and which gave me my undying love of Chris O'Donnell) - and I didn't watch other movies until I realized just how awesome movies were and started buying them left and right. My bank account is forever grateful to Netflix.)
But some of my earliest memories are of this mini-series. This is probably where my love of the Civil War was kindled. The story is really a giant soap opera, and the writers managed to cram every coincidence and important event of the war into a little over three hours, but I loved this movie. One family: a branch living in Gettysburg (natch!) and a branch living in Virginia, their stories told by a son of the Virginia branch who refuses to fight for the South after a freed slave is lynched on their property, but also refuses to carry arms for the North against his three brothers. He becomes a newspaper artist and manages to travel the length and breadth of the war, even meeting Abraham Lincoln. Despite the depressing lack of Ulysses S. Grant (he got two minutes max!), I knew this was something special. And imagine my joy when I discovered not too far into my teens that I'd been stuck with the TV version my whole life when I could have been watching the extended version! Pure euphoria.
But it's the music that really sells this series. One of the musical themes reminds me of the hymn "Be Thou My Vision," and for the longest time I would shudder every time I heard "Rock of Ages." (You'd understand if you watched the film.) The score complemented every scene perfectly, as evidenced by the fact that I, a proud Yankee, cried when Robert E. Lee gave his farewell address to his men. The horror and suspense of The Wilderness is magnified by the long, piercing notes of a violin. The deaths of the family members, two on each side, each different and moving and entirely due to war, are underscored by mournful and foreboding themes. And who knew a harmonica could be used to such great effect?
I could go on and on. But I'll leave you with this sampling of the music and encourage you to check out the series for yourself.
