Bono: Stories of Surrender, on Apple TV+

If you are a celebrity, never let a good near-death experience go to waste. Much like Jamie Foxx did in his Netflix special, Paul David Hewson frankly discusses how his heart nearly did him in too. Of course, you probably know Hewson by his stage name, Bono. In 2022 (predating Foxx), he performed a run of sold-out one-man shows (with musical accompaniment) adapted from his memoir. The rest of U2 was not present, but their songs (mostly written by Bono/Hewson) form the meat of the Beacon Theatre show captured for posterity in Andrew Dominik’s Bono: Stories of Surender, which premieres today on Apple TV+.

Although absent, Bono pays tribute to his U2 bandmates, assuring the audience Larry Mullen, Adam Clayton, and The Edge, were, are, and always will be an important part of his life. In fact, he met them the same week he first became acquainted with his future wife, Ali. That was a good week, but the show devotes more time to difficult moments, such as his mother’s tragic early death, his own health scare, and his challenging relationship with his father, especially after Hewson pere’s cancer diagnosis. That is all heavy stuff, but Bono breaks up his confessional with about a dozen of U2’s biggest hits. There are no originals in Stories of Surrender, which is exactly what most fans would prefer.

Instead of The Edge’s guitar, Bono is backed by frequent U2 collaborator Jacknife Lee on keyboards, Kate Ellis on cello, and Gemma Doherty on harp. The instrumentation is unusual, but it really suits Lee’s arrangements of “Pride,” “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking for,” and “Beautiful Day.” Ironically, the tie-in EP tunes, “Desire” and “The Showman” are not as grabby, despite Doherty’s electric power-harp.

However, Erik Messerschmidt’s cinematography—in glorious black-and-white, just like Phil Joanou’s U2: Rattle & Hum (mostly)—always works. As Bono notes, the staging for his solo show is not as elaborately grandiose as recent U2 stadium concerts, but the lighting effects are quite dramatic, especially when creating halo effects and boom flares, which look cool in a rock & roll kind of way.

Unfortunately, Bono’s soul-searching analysis is only applied to his relationships and never to his activism. Instead, he clings to simplistic slogans, like African debt-forgiveness, even though any college econ major will understand the continent’s perverse adherence to command-and-control economic models inevitably prevents any possibility of prosperity. Frankly, Bono often sounds rather defensive when discussing his political advocacy, with good reason.

A Star is Not Born: Killing Bono

When they were first starting out, even U2 did not know they were U2. They thought they were The Hype. After a name change and few breaks, they had left their school mate Neil McCormick’s band behind in the dust. Having convinced his younger brother to stay in the family band rather than join with Paul Hewson, soon to be known as Bono, McCormick’s guilt demands his band eclipse U2, but his self-defeating impulses make that rather unlikely in Nick Hamm’s Killing Bono (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

One day, a teenaged Hewson joined the band Larry Mullin was forming. They are still together. They wanted McCormick’s brother Ivan as second guitarist, but McCormick vetoed the idea without passing along the invitation. He did not lack for confidence, but ability was another matter. Frankly, the McCormicks have decent pop-rock skills, particularly Ivan, but whenever they are poised on the brink of modest success, Neil’s monster inferiority complex scuttles their efforts.

Based on McCormick’s memoir, I was Bono’s Doppelganger, Killing can be downright uncomfortable to watch. Unfortunately, it is also all too believable. Considerably more talented musicians than McCormick have compulsively sabotaged their careers. However, the title and the allusions to John Lennon’s murder book-ending the flashback-narrative are somewhat deceptive. The film is not really that dark.

Serviceably helmed by Hamm, Killing nicely recreates the vibe of the 1980’s, providing some nostalgia for those who grew up when MTV played music videos. Despite the obvious pitfalls of the role, Martin McCann is surprisingly effective as Bono, humanizing the iconic celebrity in several telling scenes, while convincingly capturing his physical presence and mannerisms. However, the rest of the band (including The Edge) gets somewhat short shrift, appearing only briefly in subservient supporting roles.

It remains debatable whether Neil McCormick’s epic futility can really carry a picture, but Ben Barnes certainly tries his darnedest. He is quite credible both rocking-out on stage and angsting-out in private. Conversely, his attempts to develop romantic chemistry with Krysten Ritter (playing his manager Gloria) are rather weak and perfunctory. Sadly, Killing is also distinguished as the final film of the late great character actor Pete Postlethwaite. Alas, Karl the queenish landlord is largely written as an all too familiar stereotype, but the ailing Postlethwaite seems to enjoy portraying his flamboyant naughtiness as a change of pace from his heavier roles.

While a bit of the bickering McCormick brothers goes a long way, their story memorably conveys the tenor of the time. Playing with and against audience expectations, Killing is all about failure, consistently judging its protagonist in the harshest of terms. Despite the many outrageous situations McCormick finds himself in, it is more of a lament for a rock & roll purity that never was, than an outright comedy. Recommended to the 1980’s generation for its compelling wistfulness and McCann’s subtly turned work as Bono, Killing opens Friday (11/4) in New York at the AMC Village 7.