Mary and I celebrated St. Patty’s day Monday by seeing the
U2 3D film at the IMAX.
Quite simply, it was mindblowing.
For one, the visual effects were stunning. This wasn’t the 3D cheese of Dr. Tongue’s Monster Chiller Horror Theater. We ducked the neck of Adam’s bass as he moved toward the camera. The flyovers of Larry’s drum kit were exhilarating. And as we were about to ask the people in front to sit down, we realized they were actual concertgoers – part of the film, not our IMAX audience.
Aurally, the film delivered the goods, too. The sounds – from the subtle piano to the primal percussive, from Bono’s glorious Pavarotti impersonation on “Miss Sarajevo” to the crowd’s thunderous approval – were pitch perfect. My only complaint was the volume, which should have matched the volume and intensity of the concert footage.
U2 3D challenged my notions of a filmgoing experience. I left the theater feeling emotions I’ve never had walking out of a film.
That’s because the third dimension served to break down the barriers typically established between you, the passive observer, and the characters you watch on screen.
In that way, the subject matter was perfect for this next generation of 3-D technology: For decades, U2 has transcended the vast spaces of arenas, stadiums and massive festivals to give performances that somehow feel intimate.
What a joy for this fan, who most recently paid hundreds of dollars for the privilege of standing 70 yards from the band when they played AAC, to be accorded unprecedented access to U2 (for eleven bucks, no less). All from the comfortable perspective of a plush cinema seat with plenty of leg room, cool 3D specs, and cupholders. A sharp contrast to the constant jostling with the hundreds of others who surround you on the arena floor, all vying for a good sightline and seizing any chance to inch closer to the band. For me, that experience ranges from a mere distraction to creating hostility.
Which is why I was struck by my reaction to the audience as I watched the concert on film. On one hand, I felt like I was part of them as I, too, was experiencing the electricity of a U2 show. But overwhelmingly, I felt like a detached observer watching their joy, their passion for the concert. This differs from previous concert films I’ve seen where my reaction would lean toward envy. As in, “I wish I was there. Those lucky so-and-sos, getting to see U2 . . .” Maybe because I had the best seat in the house and didn’t have to hassle with parking. Whatever. I shared their joy. Their unity in song, in dance, in reacting to the actions of the band, was a big smile.
In that way, the film was a celebration of humanity. Tens of thousands of people together, sharing a powerful experience and uniting for a moment.
That sounded a bit heavy. Sorry.
But it also served to make the band more human, too. At times, U2 3D makes you feel like a fifth member of the band who is just kind of exploring the stage. (Hey, what’s up, Edge?) Which makes the band feel lifelike, lifesize, real. If not short. As opposed to the glorification and magnification that comes with seeing them live. (At least from the seats I usually have.) With the proximity the film offered, I found myself focusing more on how well they work together to create affecting music and performances.
I highly recommend the U2 3D film. It was astonishingly real. I actually started to check the newspaper the following morning for a review of the concert. (Of course, it wasn’t particularly newsworthy, since it took place in South America about a year ago.)
