RETRO: ‘Melody’ (1971)
Puppy love is not an uncommon theme in entertainment. One can watch almost any television show aimed at a young audience and find whole episodes related to a child’s first crushes, first kisses, and first heartaches. Just within the past few years, the film Moonrise Kingdom by Wes Anderson tackled the subject, becoming an instant hit. But long before Moonrise Kingdom, another film sought to examine the throes of prepubescent affection.
It wasn’t until earlier this year that I ever heard of the film Melody (a.k.a. S.W.A.L.K., as it was renamed in the U.S.). It was on the recommendation of Jonathan Lea, lead guitarist of The Jigsaw Seen, that I decided to this film. As he had successfully managed to convince me to watch Harold and Maude (which I loved), I figured he knew what he was talking about.
The majority of the film’s beginning actually follows the burgeoning friendship of the quiet, eyes-to-the-ground Daniel and a scruffy underachiever referenced only by the surname Ornshaw (Wild). If the film weren’t titled Melody, you might not guess initially that love had anything to do with the plot within the first half hour. Ornshawl, a working class schoolmate of Daniel, who is utterly middle class. Daniel strikes up a friendship with the ne’er-do-well as a personal act of rebellion against his oblivious parents. You might begin to think at this point that this film is about class division, and in some small way it is relevant to the film. However, after the boys stumble upon a ballet lesson whilst cutting class, Daniel first spies Melody and instantly becomes enamored, thus initiating the larger plot. The film follows the complications caused by Daniel’s youthful obsession, including tension with Ornshaw, disobedience against teachers, ridicule from classmates (from both the boys’ and girls’ point of view), and worry among the children’s parents.
Melody is an interesting examination of love from the perspective of a child and that of “experienced” adults and makes the viewer consider which perspective is the more ideal. Can children truly experience love and everything it entails before they even leave school or does true love come with age, wisdom, and legal adult status? Does adulthood, and all of its complications, dilute emotion? Do we forget innocence and purity as we age or do we simply assume that naiveté is a hindrance to true emotion?
For music lovers, the draw of the film is the soundtrack, which is mostly supplied by the Bee Gees, long before they provided the disco-era scores for films such as Saturday Night Fever. It is a compilation of some of their ’60s tunes along with instrumentals supplied by the Richard Hewson Orchestra. While I am admittedly not overly familiar with early Bee Gees music, I already knew two of the film’s songs, “Melody Fair” and “First of May,” thanks to The Jigsaw Seen, who had covered them — and they are truly beautiful tunes. The soundtrack as a whole is soft and tender, complementing the innocence of the relationships of the children as well as the suggesting an inherent “Britishness” not only to the film but to the Bee Gees, which sharply contrasts with their later success. The oddball track of the film, or so it seems, is the final song of the movie, the well-known “Teach Your Children” by Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young. Out of place only in the context of the Bee Gees majority, the song is a lovely tongue-in-cheek when juxtaposed to the scene in which it plays. I won’t spoil it, but you’re sure to crack a smile when you hear this lovely, timeless song of understanding between generations played over the action of the film’s conclusion.
Melody is for the lover of schooldays nostalgia, the romantic who believes in the wisdom of children, or even just an aficionado of pop music history (there is at least one Beatles reference and even Mick Jagger appears, sort of). This is an excellent film to watch and it just might be a new favorite of mine.
