Food For Worms x Chimes At Midnight Commentary

I've been wanting to do a battle scene for one of these and this clip from Orson Welles' "Chimes At Midnight" was perfect. I think the fast paced camera work and abundant violence pair symbiotically with both the softer and heavily distorted music to amplify both mediums. At first, I hated the ending dialog- Hotspur's grinning face as he delivers his last words is unconvincing and even cringy. But something in that grew on me. It feels like a misinterpretation of Shakespeare's intent at a "valiant" death but perhaps Welles wanted it to match something of Falstaff's absurdity? And perhaps the absurdity of war itself peaks through the pitiful presentation of Hotspur's death when he announces he is "Food for worms..."

I enjoyed utilizing the dualist approach of Bell Witch for this clip- sections of contrasting clean keys and distorted bass. I've also been enjoying mixing piano and synthesizers together, which this particular video allowed plenty of space for. I experimented mastering this with a magnetic tape simulator, which I think gave it an interesting sheen. The piano riff from the beginning, which fits well with the beautiful cinematography and vast expanse of spears, also fit well at the end once the major fighting had subsided and the knights begin their duel. While composing this I was torn between where it fit better and decided it was perfect for both spots, giving the song a sort of bookend structure. We're doing something of that same sort with Bell Witch's next three albums, but more on that later!

Here is the dialogue at the end of the clip:

Hotspur

O Harry, thou hast robbed me of my youth.

I better brook the loss of brittle life

Than those proud titles thou hast won of me.

They wound my thoughts worse than thy sword my flesh.

But thoughts, the slaves of life, and life, time's fool,

And time, that takes survey of all the world,

Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy,

But that the earthy and cold hand of death

Lies on my tongue. No, Percy, thou art dust,

And food for— He dies.

Prince Hal

For worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well, great heart.

Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk!

When that this body did contain a spirit,

A kingdom for it was too small a bound,

But now two paces of the vilest earth

Is room enough. This earth that bears thee dead

Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.

If thou wert sensible of courtesy,

I should not make so dear a show of zeal.

But let my favors hide thy mangled face;

And even in thy behalf I'll thank myself

For doing these fair rites of tenderness.

Adieu