Bono: Stories of Surrender
The iconic rock star takes to the stage, on his own, in a theatre in New York.
Stories to tell: Bono
Image courtesy of Apple TV+.
A small man stands alone on the stage of the 2,894-seat Beacon Theater in New York. There are four chairs, a table and three musicians. The man, recalling a cross between Ben Kingsley and Willie Nelson, is telling his life story. Stories of Surrender is the film of the show of the memoir of one of the most iconic rock stars in the known world. Essentially a one-man performance, Bono – born Paul Hewson – holds the audience rapt as he relates tales of his life growing up in Dublin, of the death of his mother and of his difficult relationship with his ‘Da,’ a man who invariably began a conversation with the enquiry, “anything strange or startling?”
Bono is a natural raconteur and has the confidence of decades in the spotlight to know that his audience will hang on to his every breath. He’s also a remarkable poet, mimic and, as lead vocalist of U2, no mean singer. This is his night and he’s going to take you down his memory lane with all the pain and humour that he has felt throughout his 65 years.
Behind the camera is the New Zealand director Andrew Dominik (Chopper, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, Blonde), who has the good sense to trust his leading man to hold court with aplomb. The show, dubbed ‘Stories of Surrender: An Evening of Words, Music and Some Mischief...’, is at once a brazen act of self-promotion and a great night of theatre. Punctuating the anecdotage with a hit number from the U2 back catalogue, Bono defuses any sense of grandiosity with the opening words, “It is preposterous to think that others might be as interested in your own story as you are. Writing a memoir is a whole other level of navel-gazing. But here we are. You see, I was born with an eccentric heart.” He has us hooked.
Moving his own theatrical props – arranging chairs to represent his U2 band members Larry Mullen Jr, David Evans (aka The Edge) and Adam Clayton, Bono goes on to belittle his own talents, admitting that at first he couldn’t even sing. His father called him a baritone parading as a tenor, and then Bono regales us with a sketch featuring none other than Luciano Pavarotti (“the greatest voice in the history of the world”). However, it’s Bono’s turn of phrase that is just as enrapturing as the absurdity of his remarkable life and career, such as when he introduces Princess Di to his anti-monarchist father: “Eight centuries of oppression, one princess and we’re even.” And talking of women, Bono’s enduring love of his wife, the activist Alison Stewart, is heartwarming (“Alison Stewart saw two mes by seeing through me”).
It might help if one is as much a fan of Bono and U2 as, evidently, are the attendant onlookers, but the man’s easy charm, self-deprecation and talent is unquestionable. And Andrew Dominik has done him proud by letting him get on with the job with as little interference as possible.
JAMES CAMERON-WILSON
Featuring Bono, Jacknife Lee, Kate Ellis and Gemma Doherty.
Dir Andrew Dominik, Pro Brad Pitt, Meredith Bennett, Dede Gardner, Jon Kamen, Jeremy Kleiner, Alec Sash and Dave Sirulnick, Ex Pro Bono and Lasse Järvi, Ph Erik Messerschmidt, Ed Lasse Järvi, Music Jacknife Lee, Sound Robert Stambler.
Apple Original Films/Plan B Entertainment/RadicalMedia-Apple TV+.
87 mins. USA. 2025. US Rel: 30 May 2025. UK Rel: 31 May 2025. Cert. 15.
