Fading Gigolo: Best Soundtrack You've Never Heard Of

Jazzy, exotic, exciting, yet also mellow, reassuring, easy-listening — these descriptions bring to mind the soundtrack of John Turturro’s 2013 romantic sleeper Fading Gigolo. No other album in recent memory has so effortlessly captured the multi-ethnic and incessant vibrancy of New York City, the urban setting for his film that becomes a character in its own right.

In the hands of a less sensitive, less committed filmmaker, Fading Gigolo would have probably fallen apart. It just wouldn’t have worked; audiences wouldn’t have bought the premise or the follow-through. But with Turturro directing, playing the principal role, becoming involved with the casting, AND, most importantly, carefully assembling music for his movie’s soundtrack, it works. It all works. Everything magically comes together and holds together.

I don’t understand exactly why, though. Is it the filmmaker’s expertise? Or style? Or passion? Sometimes you either like a movie or you don’t. That’s all there is to it. People spend a lot of time studying film criticism so they can cleverly analyze and review movies to help audiences understand why this one works and that one doesn’t. But who really knows? Despite the time, money, and energy that goes into this analysis, the “thumbs-up” or “thumbs down” usually turns out to be arbitrary, anyway.

Come to think of it, this film’s synopsis doesn’t seem that exciting. No car chases. No shoot-outs. No special effects. Just an unusual but engaging love story.

After his Rare Bookstore goes out of business, owner Murray (Woody Allen) talks his good-looking but shy associate Floravante (John Turturro) into working as a “male escort,” AKA, gigolo. Floravante reluctantly agrees because they both need the money, not because he wants to bed women he doesn’t know.

His innocence — his lack of business savvy with no jaded attitudes or expectations — works well for him. (And makes him and his “broker” money.) Nice guy Floravante soon becomes a reluctant yet accommodating studmuffin. He’s still shy but interested in helping his clients. He’s willing to tango with them, listen to their problems, or simply pay attention to them. It’s not just about sex.

Then again, he does and will have sex to make his clients happy. He even promises to engage in a 3-way with affluent hotties Dr Parker and Selima (Sharon Stone and Sofia Vergara).

Meanwhile, the kids of Murray’s girlfriend get head lice. So he takes them to Orthodox-Jewish widow Avital (Vanessa Paradis) for discreet treatments. Then he talks Avital into becoming a new client so Floravante can help her overcome her grief.

She meets with Floravante, he gives her a massage, and — well, you’re just going to have to see the movie, I don’t want to ruin it for you.

Of course, the film’s subject matter, language, and brief nudity did earn it an R rating. Of course. After all, it IS an adult romance about a gigolo. The Disney Studios could have produced it and cast Dean Jones as Floravante, and it still would have gotten an R rating. But there’s no creepy sex or gratuitous sexual situations in Turturro’s film, either. That’s a credit to his thoughtful, caring treatment of this subject matter.

Actually, a similar caring thoughtfulness also pervades the linear notes on the CD of the movie soundtrack.

“In a film that has sex and romance, like Fading Gigolo, he writes, “you want to find music that’s evocative, but stays away from the saccharine.” Mission accomplished. He not only knew which music to include in his film, he understood why he included it. And he explains it so well in his linear notes, too!

The soul of the movie, Turturro reveals, is Gene Ammons’s sax. As he was writing the script, Turturro put on the album “Boss Tenor” and knew Ammons’s version of “Canadian Sunset” would be the theme song.

“It’s playful and mischievous, and puts you in a certain kind of good mood, without telling you exactly where you’re going.”

That’s his movie, in a nutshell: playful yet surprising. Just like singer Dalida’s renditions of “La Violetera” and “Le Torrent.” You’d swear you’d heard her singing before, although that’s highly unlikely. To most Americans, her voice is not familiar, but she was big in Europe during the 50’s and 60’s. As Turturro notes, “She was an Italian girl who grew up in Egypt, and wound up singing mostly in French.” His decision to make Dalida’s haunting “Le Torrent” into Avital’s musical theme not only made artistic sense, it added that indefinable something to the story.

So did his decision to have actress Vanessa Paradis sing “Tu Si Na Cosa Grande,” a Neapolitan song written by Domenico Modugno. You’d never guess “she initially recorded it after finishing filming, in her backyard on her iPhone,” either.

And who could resist the crooning of Dean Martin in the Latin number “Sway”?

My personal favorite, though, out of the 12 tracks featured, has to be “Luna Rossa” — a Neapolitan song sung in French — by M’Barka Ben Taleb. (She was featured, by the way, in Passione, Turturro’s musical documentary about Naples.

All in all, this soundtrack album features an eclectic blend of music and vocals that I never get tired of hearing. Maybe that’s the real reason this movie holds together so well: the music. In the background, this music acts as mysterious, ethereal glue, deftly bonding sight and sound into a lovely, yet never mawkish, bittersweet romance. Not an easy assignment for any composer, but filmmaker Turturro was able to assemble the perfect soundtrack for his story.

So if you can’t see Fading Gigolo, be sure to listen to it.