I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I'd like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can't be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free.
Not really much I can say about this movie except that it's probably the closest thing to a perfect movie that exists. I, personally, don't find it very rewatchable because there is simply so much hardship to go through before the "redemption". Probably its most important contribution to cinema in general is the cementing of Morgan Freeman as the "go-to" guy for the role of the wise, sage-like, father/grandfather figure.
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