What do James Stewart, Billy Wilder, and Connie Francis Have in Common?

The answer is the melodic strains of the of the song "Senza Fine."

Italian composer Gino Paoli wrote "Senza Fine" in 1961. Although a popular success, it was not his biggest hit in his native country. That would be "Sapore Di Sale" or "Il Cielo in una Stanza." While those songs still have their ardent fans (Martin Scorsese used the latter in Goodfellas), it's "Senza Fine" that would be immortalized in two English-language films.

It first appeared in Robert Aldrich's gripping The Flight of the Phoenix. The song is playing on the radio as James Stewart and Ernest Borgnine watch over a fellow airplane crash survivor destined to die from his injuries. As Connie Francis croons "Senza Fine" in both English and Italian, the dying young man (Gabriele Tinti) finds solace in its lyrics. It's a poignant scene--a moment of tranquility--in a film filled with conflict, hardship, and suspense. You can view the scene below.

Alec Wilder wrote the English lyrics for "Senza Fine," since Paoli's original was in Italian only. When The Flight of Phoenix was released in Italy, though, the song was sung by Ornella Vanoni completely in Italian.

Although Connie Francis was near the height of her popularity in the mid-1960s, her recording of "Senza Fine" was never released as a single in the U.S. (although it was in Great Britain). Francis' version did appear on her 1966 album Movie Greats of the 1960s, where it was billed as "The Phoenix Love Theme (Senza fine)."

Thus, it was left to an instrumental group called The Brass Ring to record the only version of "Senza Fine" to chart in the U.S. Punctuated by Phil Bodner's saxophone solo, it's an upbeat interpretation which is pleasant enough, but without the poignancy of Francis' rendition. Still, it reached #21 on Billboard's Adult Contemporary chart as part of a two-sided single that also included "Lara's Theme (from Dr. Zhivago"). 

Despite its fame (and having watching The Flight of the Phoenix multiple times), I never took note of "Senza Fine" until I saw Billy Wilder's Avanti! (1972). Charming and under-appreciated, the film is about a reserved businessman (Jack Lemmon) who travels to an island near Naples to bury his father. He meets the daughter (Juliet Mills) of his father's mistress and, though married, finds himself falling in love. Wilder incorporates "Senza Fine" throughout the film, giving this scenic romance an effervescent charm. It's a lovely arrangement by Carlo Rustichelli (who also composed the original music for Avanti!).

And, of course, there have been numerous other version of "Senza Fine." It has been covered by recording artists as diverse as Andrea Bocelli, Boz Scaggs, and Dean Martin. Interestingly, it's rarely listed by its English-language title: "Without End."

Love in the 1970s: Avanti, The Goodbye Girl, and Harold and Maude

Lemmon and Mills = great chemistry.

Avanti! (1972)
Director: Billy Wilder   
Cast: Jack Lemmon, Juliet Mills, and Clive Revill.
One of Wilder’s last films stars Lemmon as an uptight American businessman who journeys to a small Italian town to retrieve the body of his father, who died in a car accident. To his surprise, Lemmon learns that his father was having an affair—secretly meeting his lover in the same hotel every August for the past ten years. Furthermore, Dad’s mistress died in the same accident and her daughter (Mills) shows up for the funeral. After a very leisurely opening, this quirky love story turns on the charm…helped immeasurably by the scenic setting, memorable music, the two leads, and Clive Revill’s delightful performance as a hotel manager who can solve any problem. Juliet Mills—Hayley's sister and John's daughter—also shines in a rare lead role (although it's a bit jarring to see the former star of TV's "Nanny and the Professor" go for a swim in the buff). The instantly hummable song “Sensa Fine” (translated as “Never Ending”) has been played in numerous films before and since, but it’s hard to imagine it being put to better use. The film’s title is Italian for “proceed,” the response given when someone requests to enter one’s room. It’s the same response you should offer if given an opportunity to see this delicious postcard from one of the cinema’s most versatile filmmakers. 

Dreyfus (and the back of Mason's head).

The Goodbye Girl (1977)
Director: Herbert Ross
Cast: Richard Dreyfuss, Marsha Mason, and Quinn Cummings.
Playwright Neil Simon penned this winning romantic comedy as a vehicle for his then-wife Marsha Mason. She plays the title character, a single mother recently jilted by her latest lover. To make matters worse, she learns that her NYC apartment has been subleased to Dreyfuss, a struggling actor. Once they reluctantly agree to share the flat, it’s only a matter of time before love blossoms. Simon wisely keeps sentiment to a minimum, while allowing his outwardly brash characters to reveal their inner insecurities. Mason is good, if a bit too theatrical, but Dreyfuss hits all the right notes in his Oscar-winning performance. Quinn Cummings, as Mason’s wise-beyond-her-years daughter, delivers most of Simon’s trademark zingers. She, Mason, Simon, and the film all earned Oscar nominations. David Gates, formerly of the rock group Bread, wrote and performed the memorable title tune, which peaked at #15 on the Billboard chart.

Harold and Maude (1971) 

Director: Hal Ashby

Cast: Ruth Gordon, Bud Cort, Vivian Pickles, and Charles Tyner.

Harold, a 20-year-old man obsessed with death, befriends and eventually falls in love with Maude, a 79-year-old woman with a zest for life. This offbeat blend of dark comedy and romance tries much hard to be quirky, which may account for its commercial failure when originally released. But it became a midnight movie favorite with college crowds by the late 1970s and has subsequently enjoyed status as a classic cult film. Ironically, the movie’s funniest scenes—Harold’s fake suicides and the blind dates arranged by his mother—don’t even involve Maude. Cort, looking as pale as humanly possible, and Gordon give likable performances, but director Ashby drags the film down with too many montages set to Cat Stevens songs. Harold’s Jaguar hearse rates among the cinema’s most memorable automobiles. Gordon essentially reprised her character in Clint Eastwood’s Every Which Way But Loose. A year earlier, Cort starred in the genuinely bizarre Brewster McCloud as a young man obsessed with building wings and taking flight in Houston's Astrodome—a plot with cult film potential written all over it, though the picture sank into obscurity.