I'm pleased to report that "Across the Universe" isn't nearly as insufferable as I had expected it to be. As a die-hard Beatles fan, my initial trepidation was not entirely unwarranted, given that the one previous attempt at crafting a movie around the Fab Four's oeuvre was the kitschy, lamentable "Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," as bad a film as has ever stunk up the inside of a movie theater. Faced with such an appalling precedent, I certainly did not have high hopes for this latest endeavor, which, from its previews, looked to be another Beatles-inspired travesty in the making.
The good news is that "Across the Universe," written by Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais and directed by Julie Taymor ("Titus"), never sinks to the level of that earlier fiasco, although it does come perilously close a few times - mainly in the second half of the film when it lapses into pseudo-psychedelia of the worst kind. But, luckily, that doesn't happen very often, and much of the film is surprisingly sweet and charming in its intentions and approach.
It's the early 1960's, and a scruffy Paul McCartney look-alike named Jude (Jim Sturgess) leaves his home in Liverpool to find meaning, adventure and purpose in America. While there, he falls in love with Lucy (Evan Rachel Ward), a beautiful young blond who becomes actively involved in the antiwar movement when her fiancé is killed in battle and her brother is shipped off to fight in Vietnam. Their love story is played out against the backdrop of the turbulent '60's, a time of free love, flower-power fashions, peace demonstrations, drug use, and anti-establishment radicalism, all of which find their way into the fabric of the film.
The Beatles' canon, which served as the perfect soundtrack for that extraordinary era, is so uniquely rich in songwriting material that each fan is sure to find something to carp about regarding which songs the filmmakers have chosen to put into their film and which they've opted to leave out. I would have preferred more selections from the band's earlier period and slightly fewer from their later, even though I realize that the latter provide the kind of narrative richness and thematic depth around which a group of filmmakers can more easily construct a full-bodied story.
Most of the songs are seamlessly sewn into the narrative, although there are times when we can sense the scenarists stretching the material to make a certain song fit. For instance, there's a character named Prudence who serves no real function in the story other than to give the other characters a chance to sing "Dear Prudence" to her ("Jude" and "Lucy" are marginally more forgivable since they are at least the names of the main characters in the movie). "Across the Universe" works best when it keeps its vision simple and close to everyday life. Conversely, it runs into the most trouble when it edges towards surrealism and stylization, often slipping over into pretentiousness and self-indulgence when it does so. Taymor exploits her trademark fascination with puppetry and masks, but the visions she creates with them often feel outdated, cheesy and campy. Particularly egregious is an ill-conceived scene featuring Eddie Izzard as a Timothy Leary-inspired Mr. Kite, a sequence that has the "Sgt. Pepper" movie imprimatur stamped all over it. Bono doesn't fare much better as Dr. Robert, trapped as he is in one of the most poorly shot psychedelic nightmares since the Beatles' own "Magical Mystery Tour" movie from 1967.
Still, these are minor lapses in a movie that is often funny, touching and captivating in its own right. Most of the credit, of course, goes to the Beatles themselves whose songs are so musically rich and lyrically resonant that they can both define a specific era and literally reach out across the universe at one and the same time. With their film, Taymor and her crew have captured a good deal of that timelessness.
The good news is that "Across the Universe," written by Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais and directed by Julie Taymor ("Titus"), never sinks to the level of that earlier fiasco, although it does come perilously close a few times - mainly in the second half of the film when it lapses into pseudo-psychedelia of the worst kind. But, luckily, that doesn't happen very often, and much of the film is surprisingly sweet and charming in its intentions and approach.
It's the early 1960's, and a scruffy Paul McCartney look-alike named Jude (Jim Sturgess) leaves his home in Liverpool to find meaning, adventure and purpose in America. While there, he falls in love with Lucy (Evan Rachel Ward), a beautiful young blond who becomes actively involved in the antiwar movement when her fiancé is killed in battle and her brother is shipped off to fight in Vietnam. Their love story is played out against the backdrop of the turbulent '60's, a time of free love, flower-power fashions, peace demonstrations, drug use, and anti-establishment radicalism, all of which find their way into the fabric of the film.
The Beatles' canon, which served as the perfect soundtrack for that extraordinary era, is so uniquely rich in songwriting material that each fan is sure to find something to carp about regarding which songs the filmmakers have chosen to put into their film and which they've opted to leave out. I would have preferred more selections from the band's earlier period and slightly fewer from their later, even though I realize that the latter provide the kind of narrative richness and thematic depth around which a group of filmmakers can more easily construct a full-bodied story.
Most of the songs are seamlessly sewn into the narrative, although there are times when we can sense the scenarists stretching the material to make a certain song fit. For instance, there's a character named Prudence who serves no real function in the story other than to give the other characters a chance to sing "Dear Prudence" to her ("Jude" and "Lucy" are marginally more forgivable since they are at least the names of the main characters in the movie). "Across the Universe" works best when it keeps its vision simple and close to everyday life. Conversely, it runs into the most trouble when it edges towards surrealism and stylization, often slipping over into pretentiousness and self-indulgence when it does so. Taymor exploits her trademark fascination with puppetry and masks, but the visions she creates with them often feel outdated, cheesy and campy. Particularly egregious is an ill-conceived scene featuring Eddie Izzard as a Timothy Leary-inspired Mr. Kite, a sequence that has the "Sgt. Pepper" movie imprimatur stamped all over it. Bono doesn't fare much better as Dr. Robert, trapped as he is in one of the most poorly shot psychedelic nightmares since the Beatles' own "Magical Mystery Tour" movie from 1967.
Still, these are minor lapses in a movie that is often funny, touching and captivating in its own right. Most of the credit, of course, goes to the Beatles themselves whose songs are so musically rich and lyrically resonant that they can both define a specific era and literally reach out across the universe at one and the same time. With their film, Taymor and her crew have captured a good deal of that timelessness.