David Byrne's American Utopia. (15.)
Directed by Spike Lee.
Starring David Byrne, Jacqueline Acevedo, Chris Giarmo, Daniel Freedman, Tendayi Kuumba and Angie Swan. Available on Blu-ray and DVD. 105 mins
If white supremacists were serious about that contention, rather than just picking a side and supporting the same team that their father does, wouldn't they try and style themselves on someone like David Byrne? Not because he's so very superior, but because during his many years in music, fronting the Talking Heads and performing solo, he has set himself up as the whitest of rocknrollers. His music has taken in African rhythm and funky beats but he has managed to encompass all that while maintaining a stiff, formal, dry, intellectual air. Remaining aloof from the excitable elements, he has bent them to his will. Surely these attributes make a more compelling case for Caucasian dominance than beer bellies, tattoos and shaven heads?
Of course, David Byrne is an unswerving progressive liberal, so much so that we find him here in a Spike Lee Joint, an adaptation of his Broadway show. Apart from contributions to soundtracks, Byrne has given two great gifts to cinema. In the mid-80s, there was Stop Making Sense, directed by the late Jonathan Demme, which skillfully re-imagined the concert movie. And in the 90s he directed the indie gem, True Stories, which was unique and charming and a film only he could make.
American Utopia is much more like the former than the latter, and that's a disappointment, at least initially. Because it's on Broadway, I was expecting a bit of a show, possibly with a narrative. Or at least some kind of avant-garde production. But, no, this is not that different from what Bruce Springsteen was doing with his Broadway show that was playing at the same time just up the road. It's less autobiographical but there is a theme to it, the idea of America as a work in progress and, at points, Byrne delivers some surprisingly simplistic homilies about racism, tolerance and the importance of voting.
Therefore the crux of the film is the songs and the performance of them. The setlist is taken up with tracks from his 2018 album of the same name, plus all your Talking Heads favourites. Yes, he does Road to Nowhere and Once In A Lifetime, though the new stuff that you may well be unfamiliar with is quite impressive: it isn't just filler while you wait for the classics.
The staging is a bold piece of decluttering. The stage is stripped of all cables and equipment. Byrne and his eleven person band perform barefoot in matching grey suits and everybody plays instruments that they can carry. There's a lot of percussion, going on. The dress code is uniform but the personnel are a wide mix; they are like a completely inclusive college marching band. The result is a vivid, exuberant performance that is so tightly choreographed I doubt there's a single moment of spontaneity in the whole evening. It celebrates diversity, freedom and democracy, while following Byrne's direction to a tee.
Directed by Spike Lee.
Starring David Byrne, Jacqueline Acevedo, Chris Giarmo, Daniel Freedman, Tendayi Kuumba and Angie Swan. Available on Blu-ray and DVD. 105 mins
If white supremacists were serious about that contention, rather than just picking a side and supporting the same team that their father does, wouldn't they try and style themselves on someone like David Byrne? Not because he's so very superior, but because during his many years in music, fronting the Talking Heads and performing solo, he has set himself up as the whitest of rocknrollers. His music has taken in African rhythm and funky beats but he has managed to encompass all that while maintaining a stiff, formal, dry, intellectual air. Remaining aloof from the excitable elements, he has bent them to his will. Surely these attributes make a more compelling case for Caucasian dominance than beer bellies, tattoos and shaven heads?
Of course, David Byrne is an unswerving progressive liberal, so much so that we find him here in a Spike Lee Joint, an adaptation of his Broadway show. Apart from contributions to soundtracks, Byrne has given two great gifts to cinema. In the mid-80s, there was Stop Making Sense, directed by the late Jonathan Demme, which skillfully re-imagined the concert movie. And in the 90s he directed the indie gem, True Stories, which was unique and charming and a film only he could make.
American Utopia is much more like the former than the latter, and that's a disappointment, at least initially. Because it's on Broadway, I was expecting a bit of a show, possibly with a narrative. Or at least some kind of avant-garde production. But, no, this is not that different from what Bruce Springsteen was doing with his Broadway show that was playing at the same time just up the road. It's less autobiographical but there is a theme to it, the idea of America as a work in progress and, at points, Byrne delivers some surprisingly simplistic homilies about racism, tolerance and the importance of voting.
Therefore the crux of the film is the songs and the performance of them. The setlist is taken up with tracks from his 2018 album of the same name, plus all your Talking Heads favourites. Yes, he does Road to Nowhere and Once In A Lifetime, though the new stuff that you may well be unfamiliar with is quite impressive: it isn't just filler while you wait for the classics.
The staging is a bold piece of decluttering. The stage is stripped of all cables and equipment. Byrne and his eleven person band perform barefoot in matching grey suits and everybody plays instruments that they can carry. There's a lot of percussion, going on. The dress code is uniform but the personnel are a wide mix; they are like a completely inclusive college marching band. The result is a vivid, exuberant performance that is so tightly choreographed I doubt there's a single moment of spontaneity in the whole evening. It celebrates diversity, freedom and democracy, while following Byrne's direction to a tee.
