In an age of movies where sports cars transform into world-traveling killing machines, teenage nerds swing from New York skyscrapers in blue and red spandex and pirates sail the Caribbean searching for an octopus-bearded villain’s bloody heart, it is still the musical that is ridiculed for being the most unrealistic of all the cinematic genres. Nothing more than a dream-like trance in the mind of Hollywood’s cold and cruel reality.
"That’s stupid," I heard a teenage boy shout halfway through Hairspray. "People don’t just start singing for no reason!"
Maybe he wasn’t seeing what I was seeing. Or what millions of people around the world have seen for nearly 90 years, from 1929’s Best Picture-winning The Broadway Melody to The American Film Institute’s fifth greatest film of all time, Singin’ in the Rain or even to the massively successful High School Musical franchise: musicals express every human emotion in every way that we’re too afraid to show them.
They prove to audiences that there are still reasons in life worth singing about; true love really is out there, whether it comes from a leather-jacket-clad T-Bird or a masked phantom. They prove that anything is possible, whether you’re a poverty stricken bohemian struggling to pay rent in New York or an overweight teenage girl with a can full of hairspray in Baltimore.
Perhaps one of musicals’ greatest strengths is working as a masterstroke, using songs as colors to paint a work of art that represents a period that is best understood through musical lyrics rather than numbing dialogue. Most recently, director Julie Taymor (the woman responsible for bringing The Lion King to the Broadway stage) has used some of The Beatles’ greatest classics to paint a portrait of one of the most important periods of the 20th century.
Across the Universe, Hollywood’s most recent musical offering, covers everything from the Vietnam War (in which a talking Uncle Sam poster sings "I Want You," to a heartbreaking sequence featuring a brutal civil rights movement (expressed in a fantastic rendition of "Let it Be") to the common war protest (expressed using a Janis Joplin-like cover of "Helter Skelter").
It’s fantastic to see physical representations of Beatles’ lyrical characters such as Jude, Lucy, Max, Mr. Kite and Prudence. Other well known artists often find their way in the mix, as Jimmy Hendrix- and Janis Joplin-like characterizations blend well with the Beatles’ tunes, creating some of the best songs in the film.
Beatles’ fanatics will also catch inside references to their favorite songs, such as when a shipyard worker mentions where he thought he would be at the age of 64 (a reference to "When I’m Sixty Four") or when Prudence enters the scene through the bathroom window ("She Came in Through the Bathroom Window").
Still, one of Across the Universe’s greatest strengths is often its most crippling weakness. While its musical sequences are inspired and sometimes even fantastically breathtaking, Taymor has a hard time blending the sequences together to make a film instead of a string of well made music videos. The songs are too independent and lack any kind of formal transition, making the film identify moments by song and location. It will be easy for one to identify their favorite part in the movie, only because each song is so individualized that it refuses to work as a whole rather than a two-hour MTV segment.
Sequences in the bowling alley and in a frat-filled dorm room are all fantastic, but it seems that they don’t belong in the same film. Taymor is so worried about the interpretation of the Beatles’ lyrics that she focuses on each moment instead of stepping back and taking the film as a complete work of art. She simply misses the forest for the trees. It takes a good hour before the film really irons itself out and begins to tell a story that balances lyrical-based musical segments and a coherent story, which is a shame since a majority of the film’s best songs arrive within the first hour.
Taymor’s obviously unique style (conspicuously hinted at in the final seconds of the film’s trailer) is just as inspired as it is detracting. While one may be in awe at the site of young Vietnam soldiers literally carrying the Statue of Liberty while singing "I Want You (She’s So Heavy)" or even the dreamlike trip into Mr. Kite’s fantastic sideshow, there are a handful of moments of such obscure artistic reach that it detracts from the moment, taking the audience out of the movie.
In the end, the film manages to leave you with a sense of magic. While it may not have accomplished quite what it set out to, it definitely did something right, even if you’re not quite sure what that was. The young actors all give praise-worthy performances, with cameos by Eddie Izzard and Bono stealing the show. The visuals are generally breathtaking and, occasionally, jaw-dropping. It is sincere and openhearted while still managing to be colorful and chaotic.
Most importantly, the music did exactly what it was supposed to do. It expresses every human emotion in every way we’re too afraid to show them. It reminds us that there are moments in life worth singing about.
If that isn’t real, I’d rather keep dreaming.
