Across The Universe: Long-awaited '60s musical as stormy as the decade it celebrates

James Sanford By James Sanford
on October 11, 2007 at 10:50 AM, updated October 12, 2007 at 6:20 PM

"Across the Universe" opens with a young man kneeling on a beach, looking straight into the camera. He sings: "Is there anybody going to listen to my story, all about the girl who came to stay?" A few seconds later, the ghostly image of that girl is thrashing about in the waves, as riot police seem to rise up from the sea to subdue her.

Immediately, director Julie Taymor has given us a hint of what we're in for: a phantasmagorical flashback to the 1960s, fueled by the music of the Beatles. Taymor uses 33 songs written by the Fab Four -- some are heard in their entirety; others, like "Girl," are abbreviated -- to compose a head-spinning celebration of the era, peppered with allusions to other films, caricatures of celebrities and acid-washed sequences that do their darndest to blow your mind.

It sounds like a truly awful idea -- didn't Taymor ever see the 1978 fiasco "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band"? -- but when "Universe" works (about two-thirds of the time) it's an intoxicating concoction that gets the toes tapping and the imagination bubbling. Is it like "Forrest Gump" or "Hair"? "Grease" or "Tommy"? "Yellow Submarine" or "Moulin Rouge"? The answer in all cases is "yes."

Taymor and screenwriters Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais wisely ground the music in the decade in which it originated, unlike "Sgt. Pepper," which unsuccessfully tried to connect it to the disco dizziness of the late 1970s. By focusing the story on young people trying to figure out their place in the world, "Universe" also points out something that was true long before the Beatles arrived: In the music they love, teenagers often find the words to express the ideas and emotions they're struggling to understand.

The movie begins with all-American suburbanite Lucy (an effervescent Evan Rachel Wood) crooning "Hold Me Tight" at a prom that looks like the Enchantment Under the Sea dance in "Back to the Future." On the other side of the Atlantic, working-class Jude (Jim Sturgess) and his date are hearing a grittier version of the same song in what might be the Cavern Club, the nightspot where the Beatles once played. The environments may be different but, as Led Zeppelin would one day say, the song remains the same.

Circumstances will eventually bring Lucy and Jude together, first on her home turf in Connecticut and then in New York City, where they will be immersed in both the psychedelic bohemian counter-culture and the protest movement.

Surrounding the lovers are characters who represent familiar figures from the time period. Lucy's high-minded brother, Max (Joe Anderson), epitomizes the type of guy who dropped out of society because his parents' money allowed him to, while Jojo (Martin Luther McCoy) is a guitarist whose Jimi Hendrix-style licks are fueled by fury about social injustice. "Music's the only thing that makes sense anymore," he declares.

There's also the Janis Joplinesque Sadie (Dana Fuchs) and the warped self-help guru Dr. Robert (U2's Bono), who's equal parts Timothy Leary and Ken Kesey. As if that weren't enough, viewers who are well-versed in Beatles' lyrics and imagery will pick up on a number of in-jokes tucked into the script, including one of the still-life paintings Jude has in his studio.

Portions of "Universe" are brilliantly executed, such as the pastoral daydream built around a shimmering version of "Because," and Wood's rollicking rendition of "It Won't Be Long," in which Lucy fantasizes about her boyfriend during a slumber party, a basketball game and a math class. Taymor boldly recasts "I Want to Hold Your Hand" as a stripped-down ballad, which lonely high school cheerleader Prudence (T.V. Carpio) sings to her secret crush in a strikingly lovely scene.

Other episodes are more awkward: When Jude bursts into the office of a bunch of would-be student radicals and belts out, "You say you want a revolution..." or Prudence locks herself in a closet so that her friends can plead, "Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?" Taymor seems to be pushing her luck.

Still, in a time when Hollywood seems obsessed with rehashes of old hits or cranking out sequels to anything that brings in a couple of dollars at the box office, Taymor deserves considerable credit for taking risks and challenging her audience. The singing is generally superb, the performers radiate charm and spirit, and any movie that can incorporate everything from dancing Madison Avenue executives straight out of "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying" to a shower of flaming strawberries certainly has chutzpah to spare.

Call "Universe" self-indulgent or erratic if you like, but it isn't afraid to do its own thing -- just like the four men whose music inspired it.