Bono and his humanitarian friends may campaign for debt relief and global peace on a world stage, but are they just self-indulgent performers looking to validate their enormous fame? And, more importantly, do their actions actually ignite change?
Noble intentions don't always return results, but in the case of trailblazing musician and activist John Lennon, a noticeable grassroots rumble did in fact emerge from the ideas of a cultural icon. Lennon's crusade for peace is the subject of the appealing but ultimately uninspired new documentary "The U.S. vs. John Lennon."
It's no surprise, really, that once Lennon met future wife Yoko Ono he grew unhappy with his other job -- the one where he had terrific fame and wealth playing for the Beatles. Ono was a creative artist who apparently stoked Lennon's inner revolutionary fire. After years of touring before screaming fans and singing about wanting to hold hands, Lennon began to drift from his bandmates and speak to the media about making love, not war.
For most, this isn't anything new. We know Lennon grew out his famous bowl cut in the name of antiwar protest. He mobilized a huge segment of his young fan base with his defiant behavior on camera. Later, President Nixon marshaled a paranoid battle to decrease Lennon's influence. All the requisite moments in Lennon's wacky transformation into peacenik are covered in the film: the penning of the singsong anthem "all we are saying/is give peace a chance," the honeymoon spent protesting by sitting in bed, and the murder that prematurely ended his life.
It's all a playful, harmless tribute set to a post-Beatles Lennon soundtrack. Directors David Leaf and John Scheinfeld digitally insert cut-out photograph figures and flash negatives of still shots to a cheesy but nonetheless amusing effect.
Frequently, the technical effects reach made-for-TV standards, which, given the film's production connections to VH1, is predictable.
Overall, it's bound to be either a nostalgic trip for Baby Boomers, or a pleasant history lesson for young people who want to learn more about the topic beyond flower power and yellow submarines.
Leaf and Scheinfeld often lapse into simplicity when providing contextual information. In order to demonstrate the rebellious sentiment of the day, we see footage of Martin Luther King, Jr. and Abbie Hoffman blasting the Establishment. It's obvious, dumb and cheapens the idiosyncrasy of the story.
Any contemporary film with Vietnam references is topical, considering the conflict's similarities to the current situation in Iraq. But in "The U.S. vs. John Lennon," parallels to today's political climate come abruptly and are frankly unwelcome. Historian Gore Vidal even dares to comment that while Lennon represented love, Presidents Nixon and Bush represented (and, in Bush's case, still represent) death. Allusions to existing liberal talking points, as with the mention of Nixon's alleged wiretaps of Lennon, are clumsy and not coherent enough to deliver a commanding message.
Apart from its flaws, "The U.S. vs. John Lennon" does provide a window into the real impact of Lennon and Ono's whimsical publicity stunts. It's compelling to see their "War is Over! (If You Want It)" posters, which became ubiquitous symbols of the counterculture.
Significantly, Lennon headlined a Michigan benefit concert in 1971 to protest the conviction of marijuana activist John Sinclair. Three days later, the Michigan Supreme Court released Sinclair. Certainly J. Edgar Hoover and Nixon were afraid of Lennon, and much of the film follows their earnest three-year attempt to deport the singer/activist.
So can musicians and artists change the world? It's a question that, beyond its immediate subject, "The U.S. vs. John Lennon" fails to approach. Even so, there is enough charm in Lennon and Nixon's cat-and-mouse game to sustain a 99-minute documentary. It may not be nearly as revolutionary as the subject it covers, but "The U.S. vs. John Lennon" is pleasant enough.
