THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT

                         THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
                 Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: THURSDAY, June 16, 1994                    TAG: 9406160692 
SECTION: DAILY BREAK                     PAGE: E1    EDITION: FINAL  
SOURCE: Mal Vincent 
DATELINE: 940616                                 LENGTH: Medium 

COMPOSER MANCINI LEAVES BEHIND TUNES FOR ALL TO ENJOY

{LEAD} THE LYRICS OF ``Moon River'' were not as simple and cajoling as many of us thought at the time. At high school proms throughout the United States in the early '60s, there was more than met the ear when Audrey Hepburn (from the film) or Andy Williams (on the record) urged us to find a Huckleberry Friend and go ``off to see the world. . . there's such a lot of world to see.''

Mancini, who lost his battle with cancer this week, deserves to go down in pop music history with the likes of Cole Porter and Irving Berlin. Significantly, he is a composer who rose to fame, and the public's hummable consciousness, via TV and movies rather than the Broadway stage. In a way, Mancini is a link between the past and the technical-minded present of music - one of the first pop composers who had to worry about the split-second timing required for a movie soundtrack.

{REST} Last summer, I sat in the audience at the Hollywood Bowl where a tribute was being paid to Henry Mancini. It was one of those warm California nights that is so perfect for the outside venue of the Bowl. The stars are almost blotted out by the lights of the homes above the bowl. Mancini himself was conducting the orchestra which made it a bit strange - as if he were paying tribute to himself.

When you think about it, though, that's the way it should be. He was a composer whose sprightly, deceptively simple, style required his own presence. The hepped up, rap-style, version of his ``Pink Panther'' theme was a part of the repertoire. So, of course, was ``Moon River'' and a few sober comments about the late, great diva of all elegance, Audrey Hepburn. After all, it was Miss Hepburn, not Andy Williams, who introduced the song, on the soundtrack of ``Breakfast at Tiffany's.'' It was her character, Holly Golightly from the Truman Capote novella, who embodied the idea of the girl from rural background who wants to see the world. (A bit of miscasting there, because it would be difficult to think of Miss Hepburn as being rural).

From where I sat, I could see the director-producer Blake Edwards and his wife Julie Andrews. They both broke into uncontrollable tears while Mancini was speaking about ``Moon River.'' I found it curious. It was not a particularly melodramatic moment that seemed designed for such reaction. I thought, ``Does Julie really get this moved about Audrey?'' It had always been a running story that Julie Andrews always resented the fact that Hepburn, not she, got the title role for the movie version of ``My Fair Lady.''

What I realize now is that those tears were for the Edwards' good friend and collaborator Henry Mancini - not for Hepburn. Edwards, who produced 28 of the films in which Mancini's music was featured, knew what the rest of us didn't - that Mancini had incurable cancer. Mancini chose to accept his cancer verdict and not to fight it through preventive means. Jackie Kennedy Onassis apparently made the same choice recently. It is perhaps, then, incorrect to say that Mancini ``lost'' his battle. He would prefer us to say he quietly, and with courage, accepted his fate. This trend, amongst the famous, in relation to cancer is becoming increasingly noticeable.

Critics will say there is a certain sameness to Mancini's tunes. They

would be right. There is also a certain simplicity. Millions will be humming Mancini tunes for generations.

We all know the ``Pink Panther'' theme, but we should search vaults and take another listen to his dramatic score for the Orson Welles film ``Touch of Evil.'' His jazz phrasings for ``Peter Gunn'' and ``Mr. Lucky'' hold up remarkably and seem ``mod'' even now in a way that many jazz works don't. The ``Baby Elephant Walk'' from the John Wayne movie ``Hatari'' is a fine little novelty that deserves more than to just be heard when the circus comes to town. Then there is a romantic song like ``Moment to Moment,'' which never quite got its due because it was in a bad movie.

Mancini's death leaves in question the long-awaited and long-delayed musical stage version of ``Victor-Victoria.'' Edwards told me a few months ago that the project is now on and will go to Broadway later this year. This Broadway musical would be a fitting finale to a brilliant career. It would mean Mancini's last effort was a daring, and risky, one - braving new territory right to the last.

In a way, Mancini was a novelty rather than the main course. But what a fine and warming kind of novelty he was! by CNB