Playing Love; a musal encounter in Tornatore’s The Legend of 1900

a contribution by Sjaak Douma

1900 looking through the porthole window

The camera slowly tilts from the audio engineer counting off the recording, to an overhead shot of 1900’s hands on the piano, running up and down the keys in a blazing improvised cadenza. While we cut to a side view of 1900 playing on an old upright, a slow inward dolly shot zooms to the square porthole window behind him, shifting our focus to the outside deck. 

In between make-do washing lines full of clothes and a bustling crowd, a girl can be seen walking out on a conversation towards the window. While she cleans her face at a faucet that hangs underneath, she gazes at her own reflection in the porthole that is simultaneously acting as a one-way mirror. We cut back to 1900 slowly turning his head towards the window, catching her gaze while he gradually slows down his playing at the same time, making way for a tender contemplative theme. Continuing her mirror-gaze, we can hear the sound of waves fading in while she’s adjusting her hair, as if her world slowly comes seeping into his. 

Aware and visibly moved by the scene, 1900’s best friend Max (the ship’s orchestra trumpet player) is standing in the back, giving the sly record producer next to him the side-eye for being oblivious to what’s going on. Close-ups follow of both the girl and 1900, seemingly composing the aforementioned theme off the cuff, entranced by her beauty. 

At that point, the girl moves off to the port side to get an unobstructed view of the ocean. We watch her look out over the sea, as 1900 follows her every move with his eyes, never stopping his playing as we watch him watch her. Finally, he lets his final notes die out as the girl walks out of sight, underscoring the conclusion of their brief encounter.

Based on Alessandro Baricco’s monologue Novecento, The Legend of 1900 tells the historic fable of a prodigious pianist by the name of 1900, who spends his entire life on board of the SS Virginian, a luxury ocean liner. As Giuseppe Tornatore’s first English-language feature, it was hardly a classic at the time of its release in 1998, bombing at the American box-office and deemed overwrought and sentimental by audiences and critics alike.

It’s not particularly difficult to see why; this film is no exception to the fact that Tornatore’s work can often be unapologetically schmaltzy, emphasized by the nostalgia-laden film scores of late frequent collaborator Ennio Morricone. And while Cinema Paradiso - generally considered Tornatore’s magnum opus - is by no means a stranger to the same culprit, The Legend of 1900 met a different fate, slowly fading into arthouse oblivion over the years after its initial release.

As the scene-by-scene above depicts, the transient encounter of 1900 and the girl (simply credited as La Ragazza in the closing credits) is transformative for the film and its protagonist; besides being captivated by her beauty, it also introduces him to the idea of living in a world outside of the ship’s parameters, its significance further implied by the change in his playing as the scene unfolds. After 1900 stops playing when the girl walks out of sight, the scene concludes as he confiscates the freshly cut recording, being appalled by the idea of his music going anywhere without him.

For the film, it marks an importance in its nonlinear narrative, further filling in details about its opening sequence of Max stumbling upon the record in a music store he sells his trumpet to. As Max plays it one last time before handing it over, the shop owner recognizes the melody from a broken record he found in a piano.

Max and the shop owner, listening to 1900’s record

The camera hovers over the Virginian’s deck, flooded with an ecstatic crowd cheering for the just revealed sight of New York’s skyline. Overlooking the crowd from a higher deck, 1900 suddenly recognizes the girl, plodding through a frantically moving crowd to disembark. After making a dart to the deck below, pushing his way through the same crowd he overlooked, he finally reaches the girl, catching her attention. Stumbling over his words, he explains that he met her father years ago on the very same ship, while the crowd is slowly pushing them apart during their brief conversation. Failing to give her the record she unknowingly inspired, they finally give in to the crowd’s currents and say their goodbyes.

Distraught by the failed attempt to gift his record, 1900 breaks the matrix, casually tossing its bits and pieces into a garbage bin. Underlining his state of flux and longing for connection, 1900 decides to leave the ship to start anew, giving in to the idea that stemmed from his first encounter with the girl. Ultimately failing to push through out of fear, we learn that 1900 spends the remainder of his days on the Virginian.

1900 breaking the matrix

As easy as scoffing its unabashed romanticism might be, The Legend of 1900 remains a beautifully executed allegory and metaphor for the precariousness of life, and what it means to be human. Soaring through its rich, golden-lit cinematography is the film’s empathetic message, clearly embodied in our protagonist; you're never really done for, as long as you've got a good story and someone to tell it to. 

The camera cuts to a close-up of the shop owner, tongue-tied after listening to Max’s detailed account about 1900. After telling him that all stories end, realizing there’s nothing more to be said, Max gets up and walks towards the same door he entered at the start of the film. Making his way to leave, he stops to take one last look at the piano the record was found in, once belonging to the Virginian. While the piano is being tuned by a technician unaware of its history, the shop owner - still trying to piece the story together - eagerly asks Max who hid the broken record inside the piano. As Max walks off, confirming it was him who hid the record, the shop owner decides to return the trumpet Max just sold, telling him that a good story is worth more than an old trumpet. As Max departs with the trumpet under his arm, we watch him disappear into the shop’s alley, bathed in early morning light as the movie comes to an end.

Max walking off into the shop’s alley