Review: Spike Lee, David Byrne take us on a hypnotic journey

Ever since the pandemic darkened theaters earlier this year, sending the entireperforming artsworld into a catastrophic state of limbo, we’ve seen all manner of creative virtual substitutes: Digital dance seasons, clever musical mashups, a live-capturedversionof “Hamilton.”

Many of these have been good, some great. Yet none have truly matched the visceral experience many of us crave so profoundly: live performance, in a theater. And honestly, how could anything come close?

Well, now we have Spike Lee’s mesmerizing film version of David Byrne’s terrific Broadway concert “AmericanUtopia,” which feels so thrillingly alive, you may actuallyforgetyou’renot inatheater. Or perhapsyou’ll feel like thestagehas somehowbeen lifted fromitsmoorings and delivered straight to your living room— or, as Byrne might prefer, right into your brain. In any case, this hypnotic filmexperience is a badlyneeded shot in the armfor all of us— music lovers, theater lovers, dance lovers, culture lovers, life lovers. It’s also one of the best concert films in recentmemory.

Of course, “DavidByrne’sAmericanUtopia,” amajorBroadwayhappening thatwasdue to returnto the Hudson Theatre this fall, feels like far more than a concert. It’s based onByrne’smusic, yes, fromhis2018 album of the same name but also other solo work and some iconic Talking Heads tracks. But that’s just the launching point.

The show, which one could broadly describe as a reflection on community and connectedness, is filledwith pungent Byrne-ian commentary, on everything frombrain function to Dadaism to climate change. “Meeting people is hard,” hemuses at one point. But he can also get more political, as when he chides Americans for low voter turnout, especially inlocal elections.

A crucial element of the show’s success is its enormously talented multicultural supporting cast of 11 musicians and dancers, who hail from Brooklyn to Brazil. Dressed just like Byrne in silver-gray suits and bare feet, they play fascinating percussion instruments, and also sing and dance; everyone here does double or triple duty. Standouts include the exuberant BobbyWooten III on bass and the elegant Angie Swan on guitar.

Then there’s the endlessly inventive choreography by Annie-B Parson, not so much dancing as a holistic system of movement performed joyfully by lead dancers Chris Giarmo and Tendayi

Kuumba. “I dance like this because it feels so damn good,” goes the Byrne song “IDance Like This,” and yes, it does feel damn good, both to watch and to emulate. By theway, go ahead and try to get through this film without dancing yourself.

Lee’s cameras constantly find new and exciting angles on the action (the cinematography is byEllen Kuras)— overhead, underneath, behindtheperformers orhalf an inch from their faces. And yet we never glimpse a camera, even though 11 operators were involved.

The set is spare and stylish, surrounded by shimmering metallic curtains in the same silvergray as the suits. “I thought, what if we could eliminate everything fromthe stage, except the stuffwe cared about the most?” Byrne explains. “Whatwould be left? ... Us, and you.”