Broad Street

Paul McCartney's self-indulgent exercise in tolerance isn't much better today than it was at the time of its release. I'm a big Beatles/Solo Beatles fan and even I have never been able to warm up to this. It's gloomy, depressing, pointless and grim. The only reason to watch is for the McCartney tunes - ranging from updated renditions of old Beatles classics ("Yesterday," "Here, There and Everywhere") to some newer songs that range from the rockin' ("Not Such a Bad Boy," "No Values") to the soft and sweet ("So Bad," "No More Lonely Nights"). Most embarrassing moment is a rendition of "Silly Love Songs" with the band in ridiculous makeup as an absurd break dancer performs in the foreground; most excruciating sequence involves a never-ending dream which concludes "Eleanor Rigby". McCartney should have learned long ago with MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR that he is not a screenplay writer. It's also terribly directed and acted.