Ebony and Ivory Review

Anyone expecting a straight biopic of when Stevie Wonder and Paul McCartney collaborated on a song, God guide you. All this stoner comedy has in common with the true story is the name of the song. Not to be confused with a motor store of the same name in Scunthorpe, Ebony and Ivory gives audiences a fictional insight into the meeting of two musical legends. Those two words can be applied to both the Wings frontman and The Secret Life of Plants songwriter. Both were at a commercial peak in the 1980s, but the film doesn’t get bogged down in that. It doesn’t do much, either. It’s a painful viewing, though the case for stoner comedies is to watch, well, when stoned. A big glass of Bob Dylan’s Heaven’s Door will soothe the soul, but won’t stop this patience-testing comedy from trying to break you down and build you back up with some grim impressions and repetitive, taxing humour.  

Repetition is the sole key to unlock this Ebony and Ivory door. Cruel it is to make a film somehow worse than the song in its title, director Jim Hosking has been brave and bold. His adaptation of the overnight stay Wonder had at McCartney’s Kintyre farmhouse is not quite comedy gold, but it’s enough of a situation to muse on The Beatles, Songs in the Key of Life, and the commercial sound the pair were offering at the time. None of that comes to life, instead offering up cheap digs at the duo. These moments, be it McCartney’s thumbs up and open mouth, or a suggestion Wonder can see, are the usual run of cliche rumour expected of a film where the writing is not strong enough to feature naturally born repetition. All it can do is extend the cruelly unfunny jokes, be it the musical pair as sheep or feasting on Linda McCartney’s vegetarian ready meals.  

There comes a point where Ebony and Ivory will wear the weak of mind down. A moment that appears where it is easier to laugh along with the film than it is to sit in objection to it. Sky Elobar and Gil Gex as McCartney and Wonder are dreadful. Their performances play up not just the stereotypes of the two famed musicians but the expectations of a farcical, stoner comedy. Jokes which are not just easy to follow, but tailor-made to serve the trip, rather than the story. It’s got the childish spirit to it, where you can laugh openly at crass moments with no aim. A period of nudity here, a repetition of slow-speaking moments, and the pair come across with less warmth than a Spitting Image puppet. It’s an oddball comedy which tries to be weird without a point.  

Only the best can find a deeper meaning in the wilder side of life. So many great comedies do so, and yet Ebony and Ivory believes the surrealist expectations of its filmmaker are enough to get on by. It’s not. When the vision of a trippy weekend is pot, chicken substitute meals and cheap potshots about the location and language of the pair, it begins to wear thin. The sole working joke, a nice bit of camera work between Wonder arriving and McCartney seemingly too dozy to help, kicks the film off. From there, it’s a mess of meaningless, confused comments on music and creativity. Repetition is all well and good, but copying and pasting the same few recurring gags which never landed the first time doesn’t work. Not for Ebony and Ivory, a film with such promise as to what it could have riffed on. All of that squandered for some very lazy writing. Consistently unenjoyable. Another tall glass of 50% whisky may help it along.