I wasn’t sure what to expect after attending the premiere of Bono: Stories of Surrender at the Cannes Film Festival. Having grown up with Bono and U2 for what seems like my whole life, I thought the documentary would be overwhelmed by Bono’s oversized (and sometimes tiresome) personality.
I was expecting a lot of Bono, but to be honest I walked away with a much more serene aspect of the Bono-ness of it all. I also found myself moved by the quiet elegance of Stories of Surrender.
Directed by Andrew Dominik, the film captures Bono's unplugged-style 2023 performance at New York's Beacon Theatre, offering viewers a reflective journey of his songs—intimately performed—alongside introspective stories about his life growing up, important relationships and artistic evolution. Dominik’s choice to frame the narrative in black and white lends a timeless, arthouse quality, which at first I thought would come across as trying too hard, but ultimately offers a rawness that provides greater authenticity for the audience, at least it did for me.
The aesthetic selection strips away the distractions, with Bono and the musicians, especially, transitioning the songs into even more poignant versions. Beautifully accompanying Bono are Gemma Doherty (vocals, harp), Kate Ellis (vocals, cello) and Jacknife Lee (musical director, keyboardist).
Bono has always been a storyteller, whether you find him overrated, annoying, moving or captivating. And in Songs of Surrender, he manages to break down his emotional arc to match the intimate setting. We get just a table and a few chairs to represent his U2 bandmates. In this monochromatic palette, he gives us stories from his past, including how the two most serendipitous moments in his life coincided around the same time: meeting his wife and joining U2 with band members: the Edge, Adam Clayton, and Larry Mullen Jr.
Bono—born Paul Hewson—explores his complicated relationship with his father, Bob Hewson, who remains skeptical of Paul’s accomplishments. “Anything strange or startling?” That’s the common phrase employed by Bob and it signals the beats to the conversation points Bono explores through the lens of his father’s relationship. It’s a valuable way of working his way through these anecdotes and his persistent desire to find a greater understanding of Bob.
The reenactments of his barstool conversations with his father serve as the heart and soul of Stories of Surrender, with one account about Princess Diana being the most amusing and heartfelt. The poignant monologue and reenactment moments with his father segway into another musical milestone for Bono, his collaboration with famed tenor, Luciano Pavarotti, for their rock opera song, “Miss Sarajevo.”
The relationship with the Italian tenor provides a bridge for the Hewsons—father and son—with the unexpected collaboration eliciting respect from his seemingly stoic, but opera-loving father. The segment also provides some of the most profound, but amusing moments in the documentary, including stories of Clayton and Mullen, Jr. hiding from Pavarotti.
The documentary soars during the exploration of Pararotti’s influence into the Hewsons’ relationship, in many ways offering a posthumous reconciliation facilitated through this musical collaboration, touchingly reflected upon in the film. For me, Bono’s rendition of one of Pavarotti’s often-sung arias cuts the deepest, sung more for his father’s memory than anything else, performed in loving crescendo. It left a lingering impression for me as I walked out of the film at Cannes.
There are other moments of honest introspection, including Bono calling himself a “hypocrite,” embracing it during a moment of self-reflection while also saying that the good he’s done has been worth earning the label. I appreciated this kind of self-reflection. I came to the film not enamored with the artist, per say (I like his music, but have grown wary of his self-righteous personality occasionally, to be honest), but I think his memoir (Surrender: 40 Songs, One Story, which inspired the one-man show and subsequent film) and this humble documentary serve as a moving way to tell his story.
Bono: Stories of Surrender is available on Apple TV.
4/5 stars for its vulnerable telling and the melodic charm with which its filmed and delivered. It’s so well executed that no matter how you feel about Bono himself, that you can’t help enjoying the telling of his story.