Francis Lyon always chose to have one (usually short and out of context) spot in his films that displayed some sort of tenderness, some sort of heart, in a figure that seemed to have neither. In this film, the guy in the black hat (Mark Stevens) happens up on an old abandoned shed in the middle of the desert. He goes in to find that there is nothing of use, but spies an old upright piano. It's long been neglected and is covered in dust. He blows the dust off and sits down to this abused keyboard. Suddenly, he is playing a very beautiful little piece that belies his present roughness and coldness and lets the audience know that it was not always this way with him.That he came from somewhere better, in another place, another time. David Raksin wrote this music. Its very quiet, simple and goes straight to the heart. It's been exactly fifty years since I have heard it last, but I remember every note as if it had been only yesterday.
Perhaps one day it will appear again, but for now, I must depend on my memory if ever to hear those quaint chords again.
Perhaps one day it will appear again, but for now, I must depend on my memory if ever to hear those quaint chords again.