First, let's blow the whistle on an Internet "conspiracy."
If any 'Net friends have pointed you via e-mail to a grainy YouTube video, a few seconds long, of a still-living, sixtysomething John Lennon strumming away at what appears to be a kids' party -- no, it's not really him.
It's a Blair Witch-style wannabe-viral tease for a Canadian indie feature called Let Him Be.
The film itself is a clever little what-if exercise that also shares Blair Witch's central conceit -- a couple of young people with video cameras seek to solve a mystery in the boonies.
The mystery hypothesis: John Lennon survived his shooting and arranged to hide from the CIA/FBI or other shadowy murderous parties by adopting a new life as a recluse in a tiny Northern Ontario town.
With the aforementioned grainy video to go on, live-in couple and aspiring filmmakers Tim Bennett (Sean Clement) and Kathleen Joyce (Kathleen Munroe) head north from Toronto and seek the Walrus.
The good news for those still suffering Blair Witch migraines is that Tim and Kathleen are ostensibly young pros, so deliberate shaky-camera amateurism isn't a big part of the mix.
There is a certain amount of actual amateurism, mostly in the writing and plotting, but this is a first-time feature by veteran music producer Peter McNamee. And what he -- and a veteran John Lennon tribute artist named Mark Staycer -- bring to the movie musically makes all its other warts forgivable.
Yes, Lennon, or a maybe-doppelganger named "Noel Snow," is the movie's endgame. Drop the ball there, and Let Him Be would be like Geraldo at Al Capone's vault -- a whole lot of nothing.
Instead, after abiding almost an hour of interesting, but unremarkable filmmaking, Let Him Be treats viewers to a jaw-dropping mini-concert of songs Lennon might have written had he lived (including a terrific rant-tune about George W. Bush), performed "in-studio" by a band of "locals," fronted by someone who looks and sounds uncannily like an elder Lennon. (It makes me wonder what happens to the career of someone like Staycer, as they get older and their "muse" stays the same age).
Away from the music, Let Him Be has flashes of profundity mixed with some ham-handedness -- including a romantic triangle built into the plot that is, I guess, supposed to be a plaid-flannel hoser version of John/Yoko/Cynthia).
But a secluded town hiding a secret makes for a resonant and almost sinister backdrop that almost begs for a skilled dramatic touch (think of the original, classic version of The Wicker Man).
The moral question of what to do if you do find, say, Elvis at a Kalamazoo Krispy Kreme, also looms throughout the movie.
Would it be right to blow Lennon's cover? (And what kind of cover is it, anyway, when you go around looking like John Lennon and performing?)
There are a few acting performances that transcend the film, notably Graham Wignall as Noel/John's "scouse" buddy Stanley, who acts as the recluse's Liverpudlian pitbull.
But I'm here to tell you the music -- most of it written by McNamee -- is far and away the main reason to recommend Let Him Be.
Suspend your disbelief and enjoy the last act.
(This film is rated 14-A)
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