Review of Across the Universe (2007) by Cole M — 20 May 2012

When one explores the monochromatic records of the world's turbulent past and they stumble upon the groovy era of the sixties, they will soon construe that, basically, the most important things of the era were: student movements and The Beatles. For those of you that are uneducated and hence mentally defective, a resounding synonym for the student movement of the sixties is the peace movement. The soundtrack to that movement was Lennon and McCartney's The Beatles (and just by the way The Beatles changed everything; from genre to pop culture to band marketing. Everything changed). So, once you combine these two subject matters into a film that resonates a surrealist painting, you get one of films most far-out experiences to date.

Julie Taymor's pastiche exists as a work of art in itself. That is to say you either see it as red and green paint conjured by the drip and splash schema of expressionist Pollock, or, you see Jude's violent and desperate delineation of a strawberry. At times, Taymor's use of symbolism and motif can over exert itself to an uncomfortable and confusing extent. But that's only the visual. It that stands alone as something so avant-garde that it cannot be expected to fall easily into the hands of young (commercially-desensitized) and ignorant film-goers (and I don't think it did). But, once these images converge with the orgasmic re-arrangement of Beatles genius (and I mean orgasmic. Complete your life in an immense favour to yourself and get the OST), everything becomes cohesive. There's a sudden sense of sensory synergy - an unstoppable and impregnable force that mounts an attack on the mind. In that instant of epiphany, I escaped into utter abandon (I wanted to fully quote the term "gay abandon", but yeah, I wasn't frolicking on my couch) and I let Taymor's artwork take over. In that time, in the space of 2 hours, I felt like I knew was it was like to be alive in the 60's (which in itself seems to be an impossible venture. There's the appreciation of each movement, the essence in each sub-culture, the turbulent political and social problems that were sparked by an unending and unsuccessful war, etc.).

I have to make mention on the performance aspect: perfect. And that is essentially the only word that I feel like using because it says anything and everything. But then again, if I was doing this for some cash flow, I would be dropped like a hot potato. So I'll elaborate. Everyone does an outstanding job (and I'm probably saying that because I was focusing on the sheer elation I felt at each note that they sang). Jim Sturgess and Evan Rachel Wood lead with amazing charisma, chemistry, conflict (basically anything you would desire for a convincing, and heart-gripping, love story). Overall, Sturgess does deserve special mention in portraying the lost and rebellious artist from Liverpool. I felt like giving the casting director a slap on the back for doing such an admirable job. I practically sat in a state of complete rigormortis when Joe Cocker began signing 'Come Together'. And that was not because I hated it. It's the body's natural reaction when the supposedly impossible feat of creating a better version of a Beatles song actually becomes a reality. But I have to say, the man of the match (or, um, movie) award goes to Joe Anderson. Through one character, I was able to understand, nay, fully comprehend the inexplicable turmoil present the mind of the average college student in 60's America. History books fail to show the development that the Vietnam war imposed on these ill-equipped soldiers. Then, to win the audience over all you have to do is nestle the sweet melodies of "Hey Jude" in Anderson's pipes and we have a winner. Sheer bliss. That's all it was. And yes, we all loved T.V. Carpio's hauntingly melodic rendition of the classic "I Want To Hold Your Hand" in the midst of rampaging yet harmless Football jocks. It was such a beautiful contrast to behold. Taymor is a musical whisperer (or more accurately, The Beatles whisperer for the 21st century).

Anyways, all the above describes the way this film made me feel. It took me in and let me escape. I wasn't focused on what was wrong with it and I didn't obsessively observe for slack film-making. Not many films have this spellbinding quality to them and it's these kind of films that are too few are far between these days. We don't need something commercial, we need and want something sincere.

And just by the by, thankfully, the music is not arranged into some horrific commercial product like Fame (which I still have not seen after hearing the dreadful sodomy that is the remake of the 80's classic song).