I don’t normally write “reviews” of anything- I recommend music I like, utilize potent literature and films in my writing, and enjoy my fair share of television, but I don’t really esteem myself to have an expert opinion about anything when it comes to popular media. My cultural bankruptcy has been likened to the oft-utilized metaphor of the cave. Well then, I live in a cave. Wanna know why? Because so often when I emerge, I am bombarded by utter CRAP. The purpose of this post, therefore, is not to *review* the limp sentimental dishrag that is Across the Universe, but to warn you, fellow readers: this film is not the feel-good journey through the romanticized “hippie era” that you were expecting. My friends raved about it, the Internet gave me tantalizing treatises… but, sadly I will admit, I could not bring myself to even finish it.
The movie starts out cheesy, and for the first ten minutes my boyfriend and I wondered if the entire thing was to be composed solely of Beatle’s songs. At last, after a few random scenes meant to introduce us to the main character (through the lens of some of the early, simple romantic Beatle’s songs) we are granted some dialogue… it is disastrous. Much dancing ensues, the comparison that best comes to mind would be West Side Story, while we continue to wonder, “who are these people? who are we supposed to care about? what is he thinking?” Such questions would continue to arise throughout the movie, until we simply began to resort to pained grimaces and shared looks of horror.
Oh, there is one slightly redeeming scene that is salvaged only by the unique charisma of Eddie Izzard, but it too is laden with bizarre special effects (I suppose it is an attempt to create a more ‘psychedelic’ feel, but I’m not buyin’) that overwhelm the viewer in their complete noncomprehensiveness. In truth, each character is a flat icon of the Vietnam War period, obscured by a reliance on the sentimentality of the movie’s viewers meant to be evoked by the enormous popularity of the band that gave birth to pop culture as we know it today.
And the symbolism is horrid. Our hero, poor Liverpool boy Jude, expresses his angst about the war by tacking strawberries onto his wall. They bleed into a montage that reeks of stock footage as we’re launched into “Strawberry Fields Forever”. How poignant.
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