Frank

As someone who is a huge fan of the Beatles yet not a big fan of musicals, I wasn't quite sure what to expect going into Across the Universe.

I thought the musical, set in the 1960s to the Beatles songbook, could either be an unintentionally amusing flop—"genius" along the lines of R. Kelly's Trapped in the Closet series—or perhaps it would be the real thing, a rare and brilliant execution of the genre (something along the lines of the last musical I truly enjoyed, Moulin Rouge).

Sadly, it was neither. Instead, it was just another boring musical (or as the Beatles might chime in: "It can't get much worse…")

The problem with Across the Universe is the problem with the vast majority of musicals. That is, putting aside the obvious (acceptance of an alternate universe where random strangers spontaneously—and simultaneously—break out into well-choreographed routines in the middle of grocery stores, train stations, libraries, and barber shops, among other key locations), the major mistake of this—and most—musicals is that their totem pole of importance usually places plotline somewhere between on-set catering and folding chairs for the extras.

For a movie that details such a tumultuous period, one clouded with uncertainty and distorted with revolt, Across the Universe portrays a rather dull, sanitized version of those times. Assembled is the perfect cast of plucky young bohemians: the former homecoming queen turned student activist, the rebel without a cause who gets drafted to Vietnam, the tortured artist who mirrors the explosive times in his abstract artwork. With a gang like this how did The Man ever stand a chance!

What's more, you know each character will have that Zelig-like superpower, enabling them to be a part of every single important moment throughout the decade. (Think: The kids of Fame meet Forrest Gump…What's that you say, Lucy accidentally walked into the lead student protestors room and discovered he's really part of the Weathermen?!)

Nonetheless, at the heart of all of it is a love story—or several love stories, really. All you need is love, right? The main love story involves British immigrant artist Jude (Jim Sturgess) and his American sweetheart turned student activist Lucy (Evan Rachel Wood). And, yes, Jude and Lucy are just two of the familiar names you'll recognize…there's also Sadie (she of the sexy variety), Max (of silver hammer fame), Prudence (who came in through the bathroom window)…corny as hell, no? I half expected Polythene Pam to show up with her pet raccoon Rocky in their Yellow Submarine no less.

While it's obvious that a film like this would see the decade through the counterculture lens, it would have been all the more effective had it occasionally seen the sixties through the eyes of those who, as Bob Dylan sang, stood in the doorways and blocked up the halls. It would have been exponentially more powerful had we witnessed the generation gap by hearing "She's Leaving Home" through the parents, or maybe the imperialistic tension in "Bungalow Bill" through a dutiful soldier.

Where the movie succeeds from falling completely apart is in the singing performances of the lead actors. Wood, in particular, does an outstanding job singing, demonstrating a strong vocal range. In fact, the entire cast does a fine job of interpreting the songs while still staying true to the melodies and phrasing most of us hold sacred.

However, these fine singing performances are not supported by equally interesting musical tracks, and so it comes off as a form of karaoke—you quickly realize that the magic behind The Beatles was not just the composition of their songs, but also in their skill as musicians. Noticeably absent are the wandering McCartney bass lines, Ringo's drum flourishes, John's choppy rhythm, and George's meticulous leads. In their place are generic, watered-down versions played by what sounds like robots set to "groovy sixties jams."

The film also features several uninspired cameos. U2 frontman Bono pops up as the infamous "Dr. Robert," the psychedelic pill-pusher. The singer oddly chooses to portray his character by channeling Robin Williams channeling Leon Redbone channeling Timothy Leary. Even brilliant comedian Eddie Izzard's cameo as "Mr. Kite" is disappointing, coming across more like an outtake from "Beetlejuice." Of course, there's also the obligatory appearance by Joe Cocker. Good to see he's still getting paid to have seizures to our favorite Beatles classics.

Occasionally the film hits the right note and when it does so you see the potential within the entire musical that is not being met. One such example is the use of "She's So Heavy," an obscure tune from the Abbey Road medley. As the young men are sent down a conveyor-belt at the draft office, a poster of Uncle Sam decries: "I want you, I want you sooo baaaaad, it's driving me mad, it's driving me mad…." Totally creepy. Then, cut to the swamps of Vietnam where a group of soldiers, like pallbearers, are carrying the Statue of Liberty while singing the chorus: "She's so heavy…" You clearly see the powerful statement that resonates with our current attempts to export democracy abroad.

But aside from those few moments, the movie seems more like a pleasant flashback than a spaced-out magical mystery tour. It will appeal more to those who lived through the times and can look back on it as a matter of nostalgia (now that they're 64). And while it falls just short of an episode of "High School Musical" where the gang digs up a ‘60s time capsule, it probably will appeal to a younger generation yearning for something more than "American Idol" can ever hope to offer.

Ultimately, though, Across the Universe is not the powerful artistic statement it could have been—and that the Beatles' music deserves. Nope, instead it was just another boring musical. Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about…